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greyson
“Ican’t believe she talked me into it,” I grumble at my reflection, pulling at my shirt collar, the tight material choking the life out of me. Possibly my soul.
ThisisSavy we’re talking about here—she meddles more than Scarlett’s kooky neighbor and her interest in my love life is comical. As if she doesn’t have enough work to keep her busy, never mind her being a mom to three kiddos and a wife to my surly twin brother. I threatened to add more archery training to her workload, and she just laughed and told me to try it and see what happens. She has us all by the balls with that country charm of hers.
My fingers run through my unruly dark hair to tame it, although I often like to rock the rolled-out-of-bed-look—I’ve heard it’s sexy. In reality, it’s pure laziness—or busyness. I’m too distracted by work to note the status of my appearance.
The buzz of my phone on the nightstand alerts me to a text. My mom, Grace, reminding Theo and me to video call her tomorrow, puts a genuine smile on my face. The matriarch who raised Preston and me with firm but gentle hands, turns to butter for her grandchildren. As tempting as it is to cancel this ‘exciting’ event and chat with her instead about life as the CEO of Lee Corp back in Manhattan or how Aunt Trudy still hasn’t forgiven Uncle Carl for that incident in 1985, I promise to call her later when I’m free.
“Theo! Hurry, bud, we gotta get you over to Uncle P’s in ten minutes,” I yell out my bedroom doorway to the living room where he’s lounging and pigging out onmybox of Tagalongs. How he sniffed them out, I’ll never know. I have to find a new hiding place for my junk food ASAP.
“Where are you going again?” he asks before stuffing another cookie in his mouth, eyes glued to some weird video on YouTube.
I turn from him to cringe at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t want to lie to him, but admitting this… feels odd and slightly emasculating, like I can’t get a date on my merit alone—I have to chat up a bunch of strangers to do it.
“Uh, I’m going to Java Drip in Bozeman.” I roll up my sleeves and stride out into the open concept living room, stepping in front of the TV on the wall.
“You’re dressed up to get coffee?” He snorts and takes a swig of his milk, filled to the brim of our largest cup.
I brace my hands on my hips, forcing out, “I’m going to speed date.” The concept baffles me—small talk with strangers? I’d rather muck out the horses’ stalls with my bare hands.
Theo’s eyes bug out, and he dribbles milk, catching it with his hand. “For real? Dad… no way. What? Why?”
“I asked myself the same question. One word, son. Aunt Savy.”
He slumps back onto the couch, a toothy grin adhered to his face. “That’s two words.”
“Whatever, kid. She thought I needed to get out there and find a lady. What do you think about the idea? Me, finding someone.” I move to sit next to him on the couch, tossing the throw pillow behind it.
I haven’t approached him with the topic yet. I purposely said nothing to Scarlett, and I’m still embarrassed I let Sav talk me into it. If I’m honest, it’s also because talking about dating of any sort with Scar cuts me. I don’t want to know about her and any other guy. We’ve talked in the past about how we’d handle it if we met someone and how that would affect Theo, but over the years it’s never come up again. I date little and anyone I might have a fling with doesn’t stick around long enough to know I have a kid. Besides, this is just speed dating and I have no expectations of getting my dick wet tonight. I’m hoping to leave unscathed and traumaless.
“Dad,” he sighs, handing me a cookie as if he knows I need the sugar to ease the stress, “I just want you happy. If you pick up a chick tonight, then awesome. If not, oh well. We’ve been good on our own. And we still got Mom.”
Pick up a chick?God, what’s he learning in school from his friends? I hold my fingers up to air quote him. “‘Pick up chicks’ is not something I do, and neither should you be thinking about that. You’re twelve.”
“You have before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I watched you one day at the stables. You picked up a chick named Heather.” His attention momentarily drawn to the TV while my brows curl up in confusion.
“I literally helped her up. She’d fallen off the damn horse.”
“Is that what it’s called when you end up kissing her later in the barn? What, were you fixing her boo boos?” His lip twitches with a devious smirk.
My mouth drops. “You were spying on me?” I reach over and pull him into my side, giving his head a good rub with my knuckles and tickling his underarm.
Gasping for breath in between the laughs, he says, “No! Shelby asked me to get him more feed for the horses and I walked in and saw you. Trust me, I high-tailed it in the other direction.”
Settling him down on the couch, I scratch the back of my neck, not sure how to proceed here.
“Look, Theo—,” I start, but he interrupts me.
“No need to explain. I get it. You and Mom aren’t together, so you’re lonely.”
My jaw clenches at the mention of me and Scar and at the sudden mature nature of this kid in front of me. When did he grow up?
