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“Jake. Like he wants to eat you and not the lasagne you just cooked.”
I try to turn, but she stops me. “Don’t look. It will make it obvious.”
I think she’s making it pretty obvious already.
Eyes wide, she rears back. “You had—” She stops, glancing around at the children sitting at the table before choosing her words. “You played on his swing set, didn’t you?”
I hate that she reads every situation so well.
“I did no such thing,” I answer honestly.
I’ve never played on a swing set with Jake.
Has he fucked me within an inch of my life?
Absolutely.
But I’ve never played with him.
“Then why are you flushed like you’ve just been on a swing set?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a swing set whore.”
I gasp, trying not to attract other attention. “It was more like a merry-go-round.”
She chokes on her pasta. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. How many times did you ride the merry-go-round?”
We’ve hardly slept.
“Too many,” I answer honestly, feeling his eyes on me as I speak.
I say a silent prayer of thanks when Mia stands and interrupts us. “I’m not one for speeches, so bear with me. I’m leaving tomorrow, and it doesn’t seem real. This place has been my life for nine months and you’ve become my family.” She takes a deep breath to stop her emotions from bubbling over. “I was here the day this shelter opened. I’ve seen women come and go to better and worse places. But I never thought I would be one of them. If you asked me a year ago where I would be, I never would have said I was going to be a woman working toward a degree, and about to move into my own home.” She squeezes her teenage son’s shoulder. “That my son would be safe every night.” She points her glass toward me, and tears fill my eyes. “Claire, you arrived only four months ago, but you’ve made the world of difference to our children. We come here for their protection. And then we meet someone like you. You want to protect them, but I see how hard you work every day to make sure they succeed. Last year, I lost sleep because I wondered what road my son would take. Do you know what his ambitions are now?” She looks around the table and nods to Amy. “He wants to teach guitar.” Amy squeezes my hand, and our tears are shed at the same time. “To you, Claire, it might have been a music room. Something to fill their time. But right here, in this shelter, you’ve provided a world of opportunity.”
I scrub the tears from my face as she turns to Jake. I immediately see his discomfort.
She laughs through a sob. “Thank you,” she whispers. He nods, offering her a warm smile. “Jake, you were the first man I encountered when I came here. Thank you for teaching me you’re not all the same. Thank you for bringing your son up with your morals. I can stand here all night, and I’m sure I speak for all these women here when I say, we all hold a torch for you because when the day finally comes—when we can move past this—we know where the bar is set.”
He stands, still uncomfortable with the compliment, but he holds Mia in an embrace, whispering in her ear.
“Ah, shit,” Amy says quietly, wiping tears from her eyes. “I thinkIjust fell in love with your merry-go-round. You’re so fucked.”
Yeah.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As I finish the afternoon emails, a light tap sounds at my office door.
With the sight of Amelia’s face, my legs go to lead, and I shoot up from my chair.
She holds out a hand and smiles. “Nothing’s wrong.”
I blow out a long breath.
“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a lot of people waiting out here. They said they’re here for the party?”
