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Cyril resumed his path to the exit without comment, and Cash’s irritation flared again. Did anyone in Penta’s family treat her with respect? He blocked the boy’s escape with an outstretched arm. “Apologize to your mother. It’s the least you can do for letting her make a trip for no reason.”
“Fine. Sorry.” Cyril slung his backpack over his shoulder and circled past the adults. “I’ll be in the car.”
Chapter Five
Penta watched Cyril leave, emotions tumbling like bricks from a badly built wall.
She hated that Mark had the power to make her feel like a poor mother, especially since he blamed their divorce on her parenting. Maybe she had let her confrontation-avoiding tendencies take the lead since then. Maybe she was a little lenient. Who cared? She had to make up for the cataclysm to her children’s lives somehow.
“Guess that’s my cue.” Mark ambled after Cyril. “I’ll get him to school on Monday. Then he’s back with you.”
She nodded mechanically, aware of Cash standing just behind her shoulder like a menacing sentinel. The door closed and they were alone.
Which was just a different kind of awkward. The look of derision in his eyes when Mark and then Cyril had dismissed her was branded on her retinas and his defense had only made her feel pitiful and angry. She should be able to stand up for herself. She certainly didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. She wanted him to see her as—
—nope, not going there. Mark had been right about that, too, which was even more annoying. Cash wasn’t her type. Her least favourite romances were the ones that paired the bad boy with the good girl. To Penta, that was simply a recipe for disaster.
“You okay?”
She turned, her arm brushing his as she did so. Even through the thick fabric of her sweatshirt, she could feel the heat of his skin and she shuffled backward quickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? It was just a silly miscommunication.” She was babbling again. Clamping her teeth together, she grinned at him, hoping it didn’t look as insane as it felt.
His dark red eyebrows lowered. “I don’t like your husband.”
“Ex-husband.” It was important Cash knew Mark meant nothing to her, though she didn’t stop to examine why. “As ex as you can get.”
“Right. You told me before. Twice, actually.” His expression relaxed and a tiny twinkle shone in the steel of his irises.
That twinkle lit sparks low in her belly. Sparks she hadn’t felt in a long time. In a desperate attempt to ignore them, she said the first thing that came to mind. “Why don’t you like him? He was perfectly polite to you.”
“Yes. To me.”
The weight he put on the final word spoke volumes. Her cheeks flared with embarrassed heat.
He tilted his head to one side and studied her as if she were a creature he’d never seen before. “Do you want to get a coffee?”
She gawked. “A coffee? Me? With you?”
His lips pressed together and his expression shuttered. “Never mind.”
She thought back to her first sight of him—when she’d only known him as Big, Red, and Scary. The first two still applied, but she realized it wasn’t fear that caused her skin to tingle when he was around. It was arousal. She might be a forty-four-year-old mother of four, but she wasn’t dead.
However, there were a couple things she needed to clear up.
“Who was the blond woman? The one who came here and yelled at you.”
Muscles in his jaw flexed. “Linda. We were together years ago. We broke up before our daughter was born.”
She’d suspected something of the sort, but it was good to have confirmation. Now it was time for the biggie.
“What did you go to jail for?” The question had gnawed at her ever since the uncomfortable altercation she’d witnessed.
“Assault causing bodily harm.” He met her stare directly. “It was a fight in a bar. The other guy started it, but I finished it. I’ve been out for twelve years.”
She swallowed. How could she even contemplate going out for coffee with him? Mind you, she was probably reading more into a simple invitation than he intended. He couldn’t be interested in her as a woman. He just felt sorry for her.
He was also the first person to ask her out for any reason at all since her divorce. She met plenty of single men—several of the fathers of her children’s friends were also divorced—but none of them ever looked her way.
“Where should we go?” she asked.
