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Or he’d just start taking after the big asshole that was standing on our front stoop after a long absence.
“Don’t make me count to five,” I said voice tight.
Nathan stared at me and didn’t move.
I gritted my teeth, both annoyed and impressed.
“One.”
He blinked, his resolve starting to fail, but he held fast.
“Two.”
Nathan’s bottom lip began to wiggle.
“Three,” I ground out, making sure that my voice was threatening, even though I had no clue about what I was supposed to do after five, it was just something I’d saw other parents have success with.
I was doubting my technique when I had to say, “Four.”
But then Nathan relented.
He did that by stomping his foot, scowling at me.
“You suck,” he said.
I blinked at the little human who had never said two words with that much anger directed at me—or anyone—ever. My own lip threatened to wobble, but I swallowed my hurt. I’d have to have a lot thicker skin if I was going to bring up a well-mannered kid, and I needed that thick skin in about thirty seconds when I faced Lance.
“Well, you’re not being that great right now at not sucking either,” I told the light of my life. I then pointed down the street at the figure who I knew was Karen walking toward us. “Go,” I ordered. “Before I text Karen and tell her that naughty boys don’t get any cookies.”
Nathan glared at me for a second longer, until I raised my brow at him and he let out an exaggerated sigh and stomped off.
I watched him storm all the way down the street until he made it to Karen, who waved. I waved back, thinking I needed to stop by Alice’s and get them a thank you for putting up with the no doubt surly five-year-old walking back to their place with her. I stared longer than I needed to, telling myself in the current circumstances, it made sense to make sure that Nathan got in the house safely.
That was lying to myself. I watched them for longer than I should have because I was a coward and I didn’t feel strong enough to face Lance.
Not that it mattered whether I was strong enough. Life happened no matter how weak you felt. I knew that better than anyone.
Plus, I couldn’t very well stand on my new—and hopefully temporary—driveway forever. Lance wouldn’t wait patiently on the doorstep forever. He was here for a reason, and Lance wasn’t really a man to be kept waiting.
Apparently I was a woman to be kept waiting though. Without a call. Text. Smoke signal.
His gaze was on me the second I turned around and started walking toward him. I guessed it had been on me the entire time, but I had made a point to focus on my unruly child and not the unruly alpha male.
My heart was in my throat as I made it up the walk. Lance didn’t move from his position, blocking the door. I couldn’t run into the house and lock him out, even if I wanted to, which I really did.
But he was Lance, he would have just picked the locks. Wait, he didn’t even need to. He had a key.
“Hi,” he said, the very first time I’d heard him utter the greeting. Which was insane, for as many interactions we’d had and I’d seen him have with people, there should have been dozens of instances when he said the universally accepted word when first encountering someone. But he hadn’t.
Until now.
He was saying hi to me. For the first time ever. After he’d saved my son. After he’d pulled me out of a burning building. After he’d been inside me. After he’d made me fall in love with him.
After he left me, when he came back, the first word he had for me was ‘hi.’
Rage curled at the bottom of my stomach, coaxing itself upward. I was so freaking tempted to let it out. To scream at him for saying such a bland and mundane thing to me after he’d tortured me first with his presence, then with his absence.
I clutched my purse so hard I bet I scratched the fake leather. What I didn’t do was lose my temper and blast all the ugly things at Lance that baser parts of me wanted to. Because that wasn’t me. People hurt me, I didn’t make it my mission to hurt them back. Maybe that made me a pushover. Whatever. I couldn’t hold onto anger for things other people did to me. That just meant they got to hurt me twice.
“Hi,” I replied, no way I was going to be able to make my voice sound happy, but I was going for neutral.
My eyes ran over his body without my control. He looked good. Obviously. He was Lance, in all forms I’d seen him, he always looked good. His crisp white tee was without a wrinkle or sweat stain, despite the temperature in the middle of the afternoon was climbing toward the hundreds.
