Текст книги "Hold On"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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I spasmed in his arms.

He felt my reaction, and I knew this when he drew my finger out and his lips curved up in a sexy, cocky grin. He retraced his path between us with his hand, then obliterated any space by wrapping his arm around me, drawing me tight to him with both arms and turning his head.

I lifted mine marginally, catching his eyes, which didn’t have even a hint of ice, before my eyes closed when his mouth took mine and he kissed me.

There was a vague taste of me on his lips, but the rest of it was Merry and I knew instantly, with a heady feeling, he would not give even a little control of that kiss to me.

It was wet, long, thorough, soft, and sweet.

He gave what he just gave, so that was all for Merry.

And it was a beginning that even me, who’d managed to read a lot of important things wrong in my life, couldn’t miss.

When he released my lips, he stayed close, drawing his nose along the side of mine, our positions meaning our eyes had difficulty meeting.

But we managed it.

“How you doin’?” he asked quietly.

That made me want to laugh, the question was so damned crazy.

I was limp in his arms.

Hell, I was in his arms.

How did he think I was doing?

“I’m hangin’ in there.”

He found humor in my response too; I saw it light his gaze.

It sobered as he murmured, “My brown-eyed girl.”

I sobered too, that feeling hitting my eyes again as I whispered, “Merry.”

If I meant to say more (which I didn’t know if I did or didn’t), I couldn’t when he gave me a fierce squeeze.

“Means a lot, you takin’ a shot at this with me.”

Oh God.

I had to give it to him.

I had to.

I couldn’t fuck this up again. Not for him. Not for me.

“Means a lot to me too.”

His sober eyes warmed.

“Like your boy, Cherie. Wanna get a chance to get to know him better when the time is right for you. But that’s gonna wait. Right now, wanna know when you’re next day off is ’cause just you and me are goin’ to Swank’s.”

And it came again. Something I’d never had. Something I’d never felt. Something incredible given to me by Merry.

This time it was him asking me on our first date and telling me that date would be at Swank’s, a fashionable, expensive restaurant in Indy.

This meant not a bullshit date.

This was a big-time, whole hog, in your face, this means something to me, we’re gonna ride it out but we’re gonna start that ride right date.

“Swank’s?” I whispered.

“You got a nice dress?”

I didn’t have one good enough for Swank’s. But I’d steal one if I had to.

“Yes,” I lied.

He smiled.

Oh God.

“Night off, babe,” he prompted.

“Feb doubled me up. This week, Thursday and Friday.”

“I’ll get us in Swank’s tomorrow.”

Oh God.

He wasn’t messing around.

“I’m scared.”

There I was again with the blurting.

His smile died, but his arms got tighter. “I know.”

We stared at each other without either of us saying more.

This lasted a long time and it was time I didn’t want to end, standing in my living room in Garrett Merrick’s arms.

It seemed, since he didn’t move, he agreed with me.

But life was life, so eventually we’d have to let go of that moment.

And, not surprisingly, it was Merry who was the one who had the strength to do it.

“Wish we had time to talk shit out right now, but I gotta get back to work.”

“Right,” I said, making a move to pull away.

He didn’t let me go, so I stopped and focused on him.

He lifted his head and I straightened mine but neither of us went far.

“For planning, you gotta know, Cherie, that you owe me.”

I felt my eyes narrow in confusion. “I what?”

“Owe me, baby, and when we work out that debt, I’ll want more than your hand down my pants.”

My legs got wobbly.

“Right,” I said again, this time breathy.

One side of his lips curled up and it was again cocky. “I’ll get you home to your boy after Swank’s, but just sayin’, whoever’s lookin’ after him’s gotta know you’re gonna have a late night.”

My still-sensitive clit gave a throb that was of a strength and enjoyableness I preferred to focus on, so I just nodded.

He kept the cocky grin as he watched me do it.

He apparently had enough time to continue looking smug and not let me go and go to work, which I started to find annoying.

“Would you like me to send a thank you note for my orgasm, or would me providing that gratitude verbally right now suffice?” I asked touchily.

“Prefer your gratitude to come in a different form than both, so I’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes.

He gave me another squeeze, and when my eyes got back to him, I saw he was out-and-out smiling.

“Call you to let you know when I’m picking you up,” he told me.

“Okay, Merry.”

He bent, touched his mouth to mine, gave me another squeeze, and then, to my despair that I hid totally, he let me go.

I stood where I was and watched him go.

He unlocked the front door, opened it, unlocked the storm door and had his hand on the handle before he looked back at me.

“We got a lot to talk about, Cher. We’ll get that shit outta the way tomorrow at Swank’s. But I don’t want you dreading it, because, honest as fuck, we’re gonna get through it and we’re gonna get past it. I won’t make you promises again that I can’t keep. Swear that, babe. So when I promise right now that I know where my head is at with you and I want us both to give this the best shot we can give it, you can believe that.”

God, Merry.

“You gonna give this the best shot you can give, sweetheart?” he asked when I said nothing.

I nodded.

He took in my nod, smiled a small smile, but pushed, “Promise me.”

I wanted to hesitate. I wanted to think about it. I was scared out of my mind.

But in that moment, I did not want to give any of that to Merry.

I wanted to give him nothing but what he needed.

So I gave it to him immediately.

“I promise, honey.”

His small smile got bigger before he said, “Later, Cher.”

“Later,” I replied.

His eyes drifted over me, his smile quirked, then he walked out the door.

I watched him do it.

Then I went to it and stood in it as I watched him walk to his Excursion at the curb.

This time, as he drove away, he looked to me and flicked out a hand.

I lifted mine and returned the gesture.

When he was gone, I closed and locked both doors. Then, before I allowed myself to have a nervous breakdown or to act all stupid and girlie and shout with glee while twirling or something (I hadn’t been girlie in so long, I wasn’t sure how to do it), I went to my purse and pulled out my phone.

I maneuvered right to my text string with Merry and stared at the last two texts.

I fucked us up, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry.

Don’t text. If you forgive me, come see me.

The first one I typed in and left unsent.

Now it was sent.

The second one didn’t even sound like me.

I closed my eyes slowly as it came to me.

Ethan.

My little man, he so wanted his momma happy.

I opened my eyes and looked at the texts again, not having that first clue what to do.

Ethan should not have done that.

And Merry needed to know it wasn’t me who’d had the courage to take the next step.

But I didn’t know how to handle either.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, tossing the phone on my purse. I went back to my vacuuming, doing it with Celine, losing myself in rivers deep and mountains high, knowing when the time came to deal, if I did it right or I did it wrong, I’d still do it.

Because that was what I did.

It had always been what I did no matter what messes I got myself into.

I dealt.

For me.

For Ethan.

And now I’d do it for Merry.

Chapter Ten

The Score

Garrett

After leaving Cher, Garrett walked up the back steps of the station into the bullpen, carrying two Mimi’s coffees.

When he hit the top, he did an automatic scan of the space, seeing Drew and Sean in the office with the cap. Adam and Ellen, in uniform, were walking down the front steps.

And Garrett’s partner, Mike Haines, was sitting at his desk, a desk that was butted front-to-front with Garrett’s.

Mike had his eyes on him and Garrett moved that way, hitting Mike’s desk at the side to put his coffee down before walking to his own desk.

“Get your business sorted?” Mike asked as Garrett set his coffee down and took his seat.

He looked to Mike. “Yep.”

Mike eyed him, hand wrapped around his coffee still resting on his desk.

“Can’t get a read on you,” he noted after a few beats. “You either just got a late life offer from the Colts to be their starting tight end or you’re planning to kidnap someone to torture them.”

Garrett was not surprised Mike got this read. They’d been partners for a while.

“Accurate on both, seein’ as things are good, as in real good, and I’m still pissed.”

Mike took a sip of his coffee before suggesting, “Maybe we should start with the good shit.”

“Takin’ Cher Rivers to dinner at Swank’s tomorrow.”

Disappointment slid through Mike’s features, his mouth went hard, and he sat back in his chair.

Mike could read Garrett, Garrett could read Mike. And his read was that this wasn’t about Garrett not sharing with Mike how things were the last week and a half with Cher. Even if he hadn’t said a word, Mike had definitely heard because everyone in town was talking about Garrett, Cher, and Mia.

But Mike knew him well enough to know that if Garrett wanted to talk it out, he’d do that. So Mike had let it go, waiting for Garrett to come to him if he needed him, or not.

No, his reaction was Mike knowing Garrett liked to get laid and him thinking that was what was happening here.

Garrett figured disappointment didn’t slide through his own features, considering he didn’t feel disappointed.

He felt pissed.

“You heard talk,” he remarked.

“Impossible not to hear it unless I locked Dusty and me in a soundproofed panic room the last two weeks,” Mike returned.

“Well, I can confirm Cher and me hooked up.”

Mike leaned toward Garrett’s desk, starting, “Man—”

Garrett leaned forward too.

“It was that. Then it was not that,” he bit out. “You know me, brother. I’m dumb enough to get drunk with a good woman who’s a friend who means somethin’ to me and fuck that shit up. I’m not that man who would do what you’re thinkin’ to Cher.”

“You and Mia are—”

“There is no me and Mia.”

At the strength of Garrett’s tone, Mike did a slow blink.

“Straight up, Cher and me hooked up,” Garrett carried on. “That’s what I thought it was. Wasn’t so drunk I didn’t think she knew the score. She did. Problem was, I didn’t.”

“And what’s the score?” Mike asked.

“The score is, when I went to J&J’s after we’d had our thing to get us back on track, some trouble Cher was having walked into the bar with bad timing. I saw that shit go down, I asked her about it. But she’s Cher. She’s been fucked over so bad, she doesn’t want anyone to think they can get at her just the same as she doesn’t want anyone to think she needs them. She tried to shut me down.” Garrett shook his head. “When she did that, what we had before and then what happened between us—havin’ her, wakin’ up to her—something in me, brother, it just clicked.”

“It just clicked,” Mike muttered, still studying him.

“Near on two weeks, can’t get the woman off my mind.”

Mike’s eyes grew intent. “What’d you and Cher have before?”

“You ever known me to get to know a woman before I took her to bed?” Garrett asked. “I’m not talkin’ dating. I’m talkin’ spendin’ years building a friendship with a woman and then takin’ that further.”

Understanding hit his eyes as he shook his head. “No, man.”

“No,” Garrett confirmed. “I know her, Mike. I know how she is with her kid. I know how she is with her friends. I can read her voice. Her eyes. Her movements. I know the depths of her loyalty. I know she’d take a bullet for her son. I know she’s got a smart mouth because she’s just fuckin’ smart. She can hang with the guys. She’s about givin’ it all to her girls. She’s funny as fuck. And now I know she has an unbelievable body, though I do not know how because I’ve seen the woman eat and that’s impossible. I also know she’s an outstanding lay. And I know she looks so pretty first thing in the morning, it’s like a goddamned miracle.”

“Jesus, Merry,” Mike murmured.

“And I know when I found out she had trouble, that shit started eating at me instantly. Eating at me like shit would eat at me if I knew my sister had trouble. My dad. You. I wasn’t concerned about a friend. I was all in instantly.”

Mike sat there, mouth shut, continuing to study him.

So Garrett gave him more.

“I also know shit is done with Mia, not just because she’s engaged to another man but also because I’ve had time to think on things and I know now she was not the woman I needed in my life—not back then, not in the years we’ve been divorced, not now. She’s not strong enough to handle my shit. She doesn’t have the tools and she doesn’t have it in her to find them. Might be wrong, but my take is Cher was born with those tools. But now, Mia wants to dump her man and try it again with me. I shut that down.”

Mike’s eyes slightly widened.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s over with her because I got nothin’ left for her, man. I dug deep, but it’s just not there. And now I’m starting something with Cher and that’s all that’s in my head. Doin’ that right. The way it started officially was fucked up, me gettin’ hammered because of Mia. But the way we really started was totally fuckin’ right, bein’ friends and layin’ that foundation so now we’ll have a mind to each other as we take this shot.”

Mike gave it a beat before he remarked, “This gets to Colt, you better have this speech down, Merry, because if he thinks you’re not in this for the reasons you just gave me, then he’s gonna lose his mind.”

“Colt knows about the hookup and I’ll explain shit now. I’ll do it once, Mike. He doesn’t know the man I am or the feelings I had for Cher even before this happened and know I’ll have a care, then we got problems.”

Mike nodded, muttering, “I’ll take your back on that, brother.”

Garrett didn’t reply. He grabbed his coffee and took a sip.

“Now, the good stuff done, what’s got you pissed?” Mike asked.

“You know if Colt gets any assholes up in his shit, writin’ books or anything else to do with Denny Lowe?” Garrett asked back.

Mike straightened. “He and Feb used to. Think that’s died down.” His head tipped to the side. “Cher still got issues with that?”

“Former FBI profiler walked right up to her door an hour ago, offerin’ her a grand to have a chat so he can write a book.”

Mike’s mouth went hard again.

“What a fuckin’ dick,” he clipped.

“It happens to her, Mike. Not frequent, according to her, not anymore. But it still happens. Phone calls and visits.”

“She shut him down?” Mike asked.

“She started, I finished. But she’s open to that. Wide open. She refused this guy’s calls and he still showed. That ain’t right for her, but she’s got Ethan. She said he doesn’t open the door to that, but it could happen. And that really isn’t right.”

“Agreed, but I’m not sure what can be done about it. It isn’t a crime, and I don’t wanna piss you off, Merry, but Cher’s a single mom bartender and ex-stripper. Assholes like that’d think she’s open season, not only because she believed Lowe’s shit but because they think she needs the money. Colt probably doesn’t get this ’cause, one, he’s a cop, and two, he looks like he can break a man in half and would, they brought that shit into his life again.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why she gets it and that’s exactly why a statement needs to be made she’s off-limits,” Garrett stated, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone.

That was when Mike went alert.

“Brother…” he trailed off, but that one word was cautionary.

Yeah, he knew his partner.

“You can either take a walk so you don’t hear this call or I can. Which one’s it gonna be?” Garrett asked.

Mike studied him again.

Then he grabbed his coffee, nabbed a file, and took off.

Garrett engaged his phone.

He made his call and put it to his ear.

“Talk to me,” Ryker said in greeting.

Garrett kept his eyes on the room as he replied, “There’s a man in town, name’s Walter Jones. Ex-FBI profiler who’s writin’ a book on Denny Lowe. He came at Cher. He was shut down. But he’s here ’cause he needs shit. Thinkin’ he knows not to go at Cher again, but she’s got a mom and a kid. They also aren’t the only ones in this ’burg who he could hit to talk about Lowe. Some might not mind talkin’. Most won’t wanna be bothered. He needs incentive to get his ass gone.”

“You know where he’s stayin’?” Ryker asked.

“No clue,” Garrett told him.

“A challenge,” Ryker muttered.

Not a surprise, Ryker was on board.

“Can give you this clue—the make, model, and plate number for his vehicle,” Merry told him.

“Text it to me,” Ryker ordered.

“For this, you hold a marker or I give you cash. Think on it and tell me which way you wanna go. We’ll talk after you get this done.”

“Cher’s a sister. This assclown came at her, not down with that. This is a freebie. But, bro, just sayin’, don’t get used to that.”

Before Garrett could extend gratitude, Ryker disconnected.

When he did, Garrett typed out the car’s details and a description of Jones, and he sent it to Ryker.

He didn’t like doing it like that.

Not the part about setting Ryker on it. He didn’t mind that.

The part that it wasn’t him taking care of this business.

But he liked his job and he needed it to keep eating and to get out of his shitty-ass condo, because the time was ripe.

After the divorce, he’d left the house they’d lived in to Mia and he understood now a part of him was staying in his current place because he expected he’d be going back.

He also understood now why he’d saved up for a down payment on a place but then he bought a Harley. Same shit happened and he bought a speed boat. Same shit and he got a timeshare in Florida.

He’d never quit living his life for the now.

And he packed as much in as he could, eating what he wanted, drinking all he wanted, taking off when he wanted, fucking who he wanted, living how he wanted.

Just like his sister after their dad got drilled with five rounds from his partner’s gun, the same night their mother was tortured and murdered by that partner when Rocky was hiding upstairs, Garrett lived with the poison in his mind that life would eventually turn. The happy family they had—their mom a beautiful, vibrant woman, their dad a good man in love with his wife and always showing it, Christmases, birthdays, some part of every day filled with all that was right about family—all in one night…gone.

So he’d lived in the now. He’d gotten rid of the only person in his life who wouldn’t get it like his dad did, like Rocky did, but she was the person who would feel it the worst if something happened to him. After Vegas, he’d made it so Mia would never feel it when that day happened like the poison in his mind told him it was sure to.

He had no idea how he’d get past that with Cher and her son. If the worst happened to him on the job or just because life sucked, she deserved it even less if she got in deep with him and shit went down.

He just knew now that poison was in his system, and the woman Mia was, she didn’t have it in her to help him work it out.

The woman Cher was, she did.

He’d sorted that in his mind, but that was the least of his baggage.

He not only needed to start conversations with Cher about what was happening, he needed to have a conversation with Mia.

She’d fucked things up since he left.

But he’d fucked things up, leaving her. She’d loved him. It was clear she still felt that. And bottom line, back then, he’d hurt her and he’d played his own part in continuing to do it.

He had to explain and apologize so they could both move on.

Mike came back, they went through their cases, decided where they were going to start their work that day, and they were getting ready to head out the door when Sully and Colt hit the top of the back stairs.

“Merry,” Colt bit out the minute he made the room. “Interrogation.”

Without another word, Colt stalked toward the side hall where the interrogation rooms were.

Garrett felt his jaw set and looked to his partner.

Mike’s eyes were aimed at where Colt was disappearing. He felt Garrett’s gaze and looked to him.

“Think he’s heard about Swank’s,” Mike noted, mouth twitching.

“I see that didn’t sit real good with you,” Sully called to Merry. “But my advice, get in there or you’re both gonna get suspended for brawling in the bullpen.”

Not happy about it but knowing Sully wasn’t wrong, Garrett got up and walked to the hall.

He found the door open to interrogation room one, Colt waiting inside, ass leaned to the table, palms pressed to the top beside his hips. Garrett made his statement by not entering the room but instead stopping in the doorway and leaning a shoulder against the jamb.

He further made his statement verbally.

“Not a big fan of being summoned, brother,” he said quietly.

“Cher’s made the calls,” Colt clipped. “All hands on deck with her girls bringin’ dresses to J&J’s she can look over tonight and pick one for her date with you tomorrow at Swank’s.”

Fuck, he needed to call to get a reservation.

He made note of that even as he felt his lips curve at Cher doing what Cher did.

“I see that pleases you,” Colt remarked, not sounding pleased, and Garrett focused on him again. “Probably please you more she made a date for a weekday sleepover for her boy at Meems’s. So rest up ’cause you got all night to tap that real good, brother.”

His tone was cutting.

His words were incendiary.

Garrett battled the burn as he pushed away from the door. “Watch yourself, Colt.”

Colt’s brows went up. “You’re playin’ with my girl and you’re tellin’ me to watch myself?”

“No, I’m takin’ my girl out to dinner and I’m tellin’ you, even though I know you’re makin’ a point, you need to watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ about her.”

Colt’s eyes went intense.

“Your girl?” he asked.

“Learned from her, not your business until she makes it. You two are tight. You and me are tight. For her, what she’s got with you, that wins out. So she makes this your business, that’s hers. What you need from me, respect to you as my brother, respect to you as the man who gives a shit about her, I’m havin’ a care. You got my promise on that, Colt. Now, the rest of it, you need to have a care.”

“I told you—”

“Her son’s daddy and his bitch are thinkin’ of makin’ a play for her boy,” Garrett cut him off to say. “I found that shit out for her so she could shut it down.”

“She told me that, but—”

“This mornin’, a man walked up to her door and offered her a thousand dollars to talk about Lowe.”

That made Colt push up from the table.

“I shut that down too,” Garrett told him. “This is not play. This is not a hookup. This is not about Mia. This is not dick but me and a woman I have feelin’s for, explorin’ what’s goin’ on between us. It’s time she started her life again after Lowe interrupted it. She’s doin’ that with me.”

He crossed his arms on his chest, held Colt’s gaze, and kept going.

“I have no clue how this is gonna roll. I got shit I gotta deal with. She does too. But right now, we’re lookin’ at doin’ it together. We can tough it out, I see good things. We can’t, we can’t. But that’s ours. Not yours because you want to cushion her from any hits life might land. Not anyone’s. I gave it time because I needed that time to know exactly where I was before I took it further. I gave it time because she needed to know I gave it that time for her and her kid. I’m all about doin’ this right and that’s also for Cher and for Ethan. That’s said, so now you need to stand down, Colt. If not for me, wantin’ me to have good in my life, then for her.”

“You better—” Colt kept trying.

But Garrett was done with this shit.

“Don’t say more. Don’t threaten me. Don’t warn me. Don’t do shit, Colt,” Garrett interrupted him again. “Not shit you can’t come back from. You know I’m only givin’ you what I just gave you because of what she means to you. You don’t cut me some slack, we got problems, and straight up, man, I do not want problems with you when my attention needs to be on sortin’ my shit so I can bust my ass to make a good woman happy.”

Garrett knew he finally got to Colt before he watched his friend’s eyes narrow as he asked, “Some asshole walked right up to her door to get to her about Lowe?”

Garrett nodded. “She says it doesn’t happen much anymore, but it happens.”

“He didn’t call first?”

“He called. Cher didn’t take his calls, so he decided on a face-to-face.”

“Fuck,” Colt hissed.

“Rumor’s spreadin’, seein’ as this guy probably has a hit list and Cher was just his first, and Ryker’s heard.” Colt’s face froze, but Garrett kept talking. “You know how protective Ryker is about the citizens of this ’burg, so I think Walter Jones might soon feel induced to find his way to the town limits.”

“Shit, Cher’s never learned, you got a problem, you court it gettin’ bigger if you don’t tell somebody. She could have told me about the calls and I could have had a chat with this moron over the phone and convinced him a trip to the ’burg would be a waste of his time. Instead, she didn’t take his calls, you were there when he made his play, and now I don’t know what’s worse, whatever Ryker’s gonna do to ‘induce’ this guy to take a hike or you bein’ a bigger lunatic than Ryker because you know he’s a lunatic and you set him on this guy.”

“And you would have played it how?” Garrett prompted.

“My play would have been personal,” Colt returned.

And that was why Colt and February didn’t catch this shit.

“Yeah, and that gets messy. The cap, every one of your brothers, every man and woman in this county, and every judge at the courthouse would see your play because they’d play it the same way. Lowe spent decades where he existed only to destroy your life. He nearly succeeded in that. They’d get that. Me actin’ for a woman I haven’t even taken on our first date? Not so much.”

Colt said nothing for a beat before he sighed.

That meant he saw Garrett’s play.

“We done with our brief?” Garrett asked. “I got cases to close.”

“We’re done, brother,” Colt muttered.

That also meant they were good.

Garrett nodded and started to turn away when Colt called his name.

He gave the man his attention.

“Would be good, you got some happy. Would be good, Cher did too. But you couldn’t have picked a bigger challenge, Merry. I hope you know the work you got cut out for you, man.”

“It’s taken me nearly two weeks to get her to a place where I could even talk to her about a date, Colt. I think I know that.”

Colt grinned.

Garrett shook his head. They were done. They were good. Time to get to work.

So he left Colt to do that.

But before he took off with Mike, he called Swank’s, got the only reservation they had left, and texted the time to Cher.

He knew she was still on a course to surfacing, not retreating, when he and Mike didn’t even make it to the bottom of the back stairs before his phone sounded with a return text.

Got it. And just so you know, I’m only going because I know you put out on the first date.

This meant Garrett Merrick walked out of the station laughing.

* * * * *

Cher

I walked down the hall into my living room.

My son, on the couch, eyes to the TV, looked at me.

“Whoa,” he said. “You’re ready way early.”

I was.

This was due to the fact that I’d called Mom to ask her to come early because we had to chat. And because I’d called Feb and Vi to tell them I needed a dress for a date with Merry at Swank’s. Since I didn’t need to be spending two hundred dollars on a dress when my ex was threatening attorneys, I needed to borrow one, so I was hitting the bar early to do some dress borrowing in the office.

And last, because I needed to have a sit-down with my boy.

“Hit mute, kid, would you?” I asked.

He looked at me, then he lifted the remote from his thigh and hit mute.

I curled my leg under me as I sat on it on the couch, turned toward him.

“What’s up, Mom?” he asked.

“Merry came to visit me today.”

I’d practiced this. I didn’t know how to begin, but I thought sharing that information and waiting to see how he’d react would guide my way.

How he reacted was how I figured he’d react with one addition I didn’t expect.

That being his very first reaction was such extreme excitement, it was a wonder he didn’t burst from the couch, propelled by its power.

Damn.

It hit him what I was saying and how Merry’s visit came to be, so his first reaction was quickly dampened by panic mixed with guilt.

“Yeah, kid, I know you sent my text along with your own,” I said quietly.

“Mom—” he whispered.

“Not good,” I cut him off to whisper back.

His face was pale but his cheeks were red, and I knew when his eyes started shining that he was close to crying.

That was not what I wanted to do to my kid, ever, so I moved things along.

“First, I’ll tell you that, with your invitation, Merry showed. We talked. Since you read my texts with him, you probably got the impression that something was goin’ on between him and me. It wasn’t, but it was. I didn’t think either of us were ready to tackle that. Today, Merry convinced me differently.”

The color came back to his face as the excitement came back to his eyes, but I had to keep going.

“We’re goin’ out on a date tomorrow. You’re stayin’ the night with Mimi and Al.”

“Cool,” Ethan said softly, clearly not sure how to play this because my tone was crisp and informative and not much else.

“I’ll tell you that I’m glad me and Merry got the chance to talk, because I like him. I like that you like him. He’s a good guy, and if things go okay, he’d be good for us. I’m a little bit scared of that, but I’m gonna give it a shot.”

“I’m glad, Mom.”

“What I don’t like,” I kept talking like he didn’t, “is my son invading my privacy.”

He leaned slightly toward me and started, “Mom—”

“No, son, listen. Don’t talk,” I said gently, but the tone was a mom tone that I didn’t pull out very often because I didn’t have to. I didn’t think I’d used it in the last year. It could even be two.

He was getting it now.

“What you need to get from this discussion is that what you did might have led to good things, but it also might have led to bad things. It might have put your mom in a super uncomfortable situation with someone who means a lot to her. You had no idea what was goin’ on. Merry and me are friends, and part of me bein’ scared about startin’ somethin’ with him is because that friendship means a lot to me. That gets messed up, it’s gonna hurt. You coulda messed that up at the get-go, not knowin’ what was happening and doing what you did.”