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What an achievement that is for a father. Damn, I wish Loki was here.
“Good,” I say, knowing that isn’t any sort of achievement at all. Maybe I should throw a party for my son to presume to kiss a woman, notpreyon her. Anyway, I’m a hypocrite. She’s making me feel like a predator, a wild jungle cat eager to find his mate.
I haven’t even thought about dating since James’ mom passed. I’ve focused on Loki, the gym, and trying my best with my son.
“What’s your name?” I ask, trying to mask the huskiness in my voice, the need that won’t stop pumping. Just being this close to her is a risk. I’ll push her against the car and press forward. Maybe she’ll shove her hand against my chest. I’ll keep pushing and claim those slightly parted lips.
“Samantha,” she says in a soft voice. I immediately imagine her sayingI door whispering something steamy in my ear. My manhood aches as I glance down at the curve of her hips in the dress, almost feeling her fullness in my hands, feeling her lust. I want to hold her so damn bad. “You?”
“Fletcher. It’s nice to meet you,” I say lamely. I’m stalling for time. I want to be with her longer, but I don’t have any reasonable excuse for that.
“And you,” she replies.
“Will you be seeing James again?”
I have to ask this part. If there’s a chance they’re going to become boyfriend and girlfriend, will I be able to handle it? I just saw themalmostkiss, and I was ready to throw my own son across the parking lot. I’d never hurt him, obviously, but the impulse was there.
“I don’t think so,” she says, telling me everything I need to know.
He must’ve shown the douchey, slightly condescending part of himself. It’s the part of him that disappears when we’re together. Then, he can be curious, interested, even self-deprecating. It’s as if he has to put a shield up with the rest of the world, but what if it’s worse than that? What if he’s outright cruel?
“Ah,” I say,stillstanding here with absolutely no excuse.
“I’m sorry about your dog,” she says after a moment, almost as thoughshe’slooking for a reason to hang around too. “James told me what happened.”
“I’m sorry too,” I say. “Wherever he is, he doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him.”
“Have you reported…” she trails off, gesturing behind me. I turn to find James standing outside the car, waving at me. If I had an excuse to be standing here, talking with Samantha, I’d tell him to wait patiently, but what possible reason could I have?
She’s around James’ age, so half mine. She’s so, so young. Her youth bursts through her features in that nervous blush. She’s got her hands clasped in front of her, giving her a withdrawn, shy look that makes me want to draw her out.
And that dress… My balls swell when I think about pulling it over her head, revealing her curvy body. I’d squeeze her hips with enough force so she’d know that she belongs to me. Only me. Not my son and nobody else.
“It was nice meeting you,” I tell her honestly.
It’s insanely difficult to turn away from her, walk across the lot, and climb into the driver’s seat. There’s this new urgency inside me, roaring to grab and claim her. For life. Forever. I’m panting when I start the engine, gripping the wheel hard like I’m getting ready to snap it off.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Why are you sorry?” I ask.
“Back there, I just wanted to kiss her. I wasn’t…”
“Wasn’t what?” I growl, knowing I should try to be more like his mom, softer, more understanding, but that’s never me. If he were anybody else, he’d be picking his teeth up off the ground for approaching her like that.
“Going to kiss her if she didn’t want me to.”
“Learn to read people,” I say fiercely, pulling out of the lot before I lose my resolve and speed back to her. “Too many people are too shy, nervous, or accommodating to sayno. They’ll go along with whatever you want, even if unsure. Learn to read them.”
“How?” he asks quietly.
“Watch them. Think aboutthem, not yourself.”
He turns to the window. He can probably sense us getting closer to the old argument about selfishness. I left the military just before his mom passed away from cancer. He was seventeen, already himself, but I’ve done my best to correct some of the mistakes his mom made. It’s not that simple. They weremymistakes, too. I should’ve been there, but when I was an operator, it was all I could afford to think about. I’d be dead otherwise. Or is that just more of an excuse?
“She didn’t like me, anyway,” James says.
I almost breathe a sigh of relief. Not that it means much. What am I going to do? Find her, grab her, kiss her? She’s so much younger than me, with so much less life experience. She wants somebody young and exciting, somebody to start her life with. She won’t want a man with gray in his hair and agony in his eyes.
