Ready or Not (Ready #4)(5)

Maybe this fresh start in a new city would be exactly what I needed.

As I set the car in park in front of a small office building and killed the engine, I looked up at the sign that read Family and Child Connections and hoped it would be exactly what we both needed.

“This place looks kinda hippieish,” Noah stated in displeasure as we made our way to the front entrance.

“What do you know about hippies?” I asked, taking in the wooden wind chimes and pewter fountain tucked away in a neatly kept small garden. It was the cheeriest office front I’d ever seen. I’d give him that.

“I don’t know, but Jake’s mom always said their next door neighbors were hippies, and they had those weird wooden things on their porch.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re just wind chimes. Stop listening to your friends’ narrow-minded parents.”

“You dated her,” he reminded me as we stepped up to the door.

“Don’t remind me.” I shuddered. “Come on, let’s go in.”

Those two weeks were the worst of my life, and that was saying something.

Jake was a baseball player and a good one, too. His mom, Helen, was one proud Southern mama. There had seemed to be only two subjects Helen understood—well, three maybe—Jake, baseball, and Jake and baseball together.

Like most men, I’d watched my fair share of sports, including baseball. Since those two weeks, I hadn’t been able to see a game without dry-heaving.

It was a damn shame, too, because she had been mighty good in the sack—once she’d stopped talking. Hearing her scream my name had been the only time I actually enjoyed the sound of that woman’s voice.

After several hellish dates, I’d finally come to the conclusion that no amount of sex was worth that. Her tear-stained eyes, full of disappointment and hurt, had also led me to further realize that I shouldn’t date the mothers of my kid’s friends.

It was too messy.

That had been over two years ago.

Besides the random bar hookups here or there, my dating life had become a little dry. Sahara Desert dry, in fact.

Perhaps here in this new place, I’d finally find someone who wasn’t crazy or heartless, someone who didn’t care about baseball, and someone who would love Noah like I did.

Hell, I’d settle for someone normal right about now.

It was the exact opposite of what I saw when I turned my head and came face to face with Miss Prescott. She was wearing a long flowing dress that looked like an Indian sari, and her dark hair tumbled down her back in a loose braid. Noah’s words from earlier came to me, and I couldn’t help but grin as the word hippie flashed across my mind.

“Hi, you must be—”

“Jackson,” I said as an introduction, holding out my hand.

She stepped forward, her multicolored skirt swishing as she moved. The many bangles around her tiny wrist jingled as her hand met mine. Her chocolate brown eyes looked directly into me, warm and inviting, as she smiled.

She is breathtaking.

“I apologize. My secretary had to leave suddenly—food poisoning. It wasn’t pretty. So, I have absolutely no idea what is going on or who is coming in. I have a friend coming in to help, but it will be a few minutes. Please bear with me through all the confusion.”

Her gaze drifted over to Noah, who had taken a seat on the plush green sofa. His phone was laying on his lap, but his attention was focused on the woman in front of us.

“And who might you be?” she asked, walking forward to sit next to him.

“Noah,” he said.

“I like your haircut, Noah. It’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks,” he replied. His cheeks reddened slightly as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“So, do you want to hang out for a little bit?” she asked.

“Uh…” His eyes roamed around, and he hesitantly looked at me.

“Don’t worry. We’re just hanging out today. We can do whatever you want—just you and me. I’ve got a sweet Xbox in my office. Wanna see?”

“Really?” His expression shifted to pure adoration.

Hippie girl had all sorts of surprises up her sleeve.

~Liv~

Xbox worked every time.

I looked down at my new young client and smiled. He was cute with sandy-blond hair and light-blue eyes that lit up when he spoke. His dad wasn’t bad-looking either.

“Yep. Why don’t you go in there and set everything up for us? I’ll be along in just a second,” I suggested.

Noah jumped off the couch in search of the video games, relief clearly written all over his boyish face. He’d probably been afraid that I was going to drill him for an hour straight.

That was not my style, especially with kids.

I liked to get down to their level and hang out with them. Once they felt comfortable, really comfortable with the environment I’d created for them, they would open up naturally. Nothing closed people off and clamped down their walls faster than forcing information out of them.

“So, Xbox, huh?” Jackson said, as he rocked back on his heels in front of me.

His accent was thicker than what was considered typical for Virginia. It was full and rich, and the words Southern charm came to mind when I heard him speak.

“Yeah, it seems to help—the boys at least,” I said. “I have half a dozen dolls and other things in there, too, if the Xbox fails, but it’s usually quite the crowd-pleaser.”