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I don't recognize her, but that's not saying much.
“Hunter, it's me,” she sing-songs, leaning around me.
I mirror her movements, curving my jam-free hand behind me to hover over Hunter's shoulder. “Can I help you?”
The woman sneers at me, her upper lip curling in a way that reminds me of a snarling dog. “Who areyou?”
I arch a brow, my irritation spiking at her disrespect. “And who are you exactly?”
She props a hand on her hip, looking down her nose at me. “Hunter knows who I am. I'm going to be his new mommy. Ain't that right, Hunter?” she coos, bending at the knees and tilting sideways in a strange move. It kind of reminds me of one of those prehistoric birds—some kind of crane.
I scoff. Or at least, I meant to, but it comes out as more of a mocking laugh. “I'm sorry, it's just . . . come on.” I grab her by the bicep, not unkindly, and tug her up. “Don't embarrass yourself.”
She jerks her arm out of my grip and snarls at me, “You're going to pay for that when I'm Silas's old lady.”
I tsk and shake my head. “I seriously doubt that.”
I might've believed her for half a second if she'd picked one of the other two St. James men. But it'll be a cold day in hell before Silas picks someone like that to mother his child. I don't know much about him, but of that, I'm sure.
“Whatever, bitch. We'll see,” she snaps, jerking forward a little like she's trying to intimidate me. I hold my ground, and look at her.
“Get lost, Cath,” Dixie says from somewhere close by.
I don't take my eyes off of the woman in front of me—Cath. She feels unpredictable in the worst way, and I don't like those kinds of surprises. I watch the change ripple over her almost instantly. Her glare cuts to Dixie, and she visibly wilts in front of me.
My mouth parts in shock as her face transforms from indignation to chagrin.
“Whatever, Dixie. I'm already gone,” Cath says, holding her hands up, palms toward me, and walking backward a few steps.
I turn around and immediately bend down, my ass hitting my heel as I look into his eyes. They never lie and they can't deceive. Not easily at least.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yep. And I decided on the apple cinnamon flavor,” he says with a nod and some hiccups.
I look from the little pile of plastic spoons to his adorable little face. His eyes twinkle from all the sugar, I'm sure, but I find myself nodding anyway.
“Apple it is, bud. Great choice,” I tell him.
Once I pay and tuck our new jam into the cooler, we continue down the path. Thankfully, it's a loop so it'll bring us back to the car soon.
We pass a custard truck on the way, and I stop to get Hunter a mini cone. It's one of those bite-sized ones for adults, so it's just about the perfect amount for a kid.
“Your kindness, while admirable, won't win you the respect you'll need, honey,” Dixie murmurs as we meander down the pathway.
I look at her, my lips twisting to the side. “What do you mean?”
She tips her head behind us. “With the girls.”
I shake my head, trying and failing to follow what she's saying. “I don't understand.”
She nods, slowing her pace and lowering her voice. “There will be girls. Lots of girls. Some of them become bunnies and some of them just normal girls. All of them will act stupid. Most of them kick that act like the bad habit it is, and those who don't get kicked to the curb.”
“Okay,” I say, dragging the word out slowly, finally understanding what she's saying. Kind of.
“My boys need someone in their corner, someone who won't fold at the first lie from a random woman's lips,” Dixie explains, her tone serious. “Someone who can weather the bunnies and the girls. And still go home to them every night.”
My head spins at the implication. My face feels hot and the back of my neck pricks with awareness. “Oh, it's not like that. I—”
