Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(28)
She tsked, and watched with amusement as he blushed. “I’m kidding, Graham. I get it. When Zach’s gone, and I can just get away with eating a bowl of cereal for dinner, I totally do. It’s the perk of being an adult.”
“Yeah.” Nodding in agreement, he twirled some pasta over his fork. “Good point. It’s an adult perk. How’s Zach today?”
“You ask about him,” she said suddenly, leaning an elbow on the table. “It’s so new to me that anyone does.”
He blinked, letting his fork drop to the plate. “I . . . what?”
“I’ve dated,” she said, deciding to forge on. “I’m not a nun. Well, obviously,” she added with a little laugh. “I’ve tried very hard to not use being a single mother as a reason to push men away. I caught myself trying at the start, but that was more logistical than emotional, because I was just too tired to date. For the simple purpose of survival, men were not on my radar for the first few years.”
One had been, and look where that had gotten her . . .
“You don’t have to tell me all this.” Graham laid a hand on her forearm, thumb rubbing a circle under her wrist, where her pulse beat. “I didn’t ask to pry your life story out of you.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She picked up her fork—which forced him to let go—and speared a bite of broccoli. “I’m telling you, so you understand where we stand.”
His eyes turned stormy, but he retracted his own hand and nodded. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this, but go ahead.”
Like it or not, here it comes.
*
GRAHAM listened while Kara explained that dating hadn’t been a priority, but she’d tried it on occasion. And how the men she’d dated basically ignored Zach’s existence.
Idiots, he thought, but said nothing. When he stabbed a piece of meatball a bit too hard, sending his fork tines screeching against the plate beneath, he winced and looked over at her. Kara’s mouth was a little open, garlic bread halfway there, frozen, as she watched him.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, popping the bite into his mouth. “Keep going.”
“I made the choice to not let Zach meet any of them, at least not at first. My thought was I’d be sure the guy was important before we went there. But they didn’t seem to care if it ever happened. It was as if they only wanted me. I never got far enough with any of them to see how they reacted to Zach. Eventually it stopped being an issue.”
Because she’d stopped putting herself out there. He could see it.
She set her fork down and leaned back a little, her plate barely half finished. “That was amazing. The sauce . . . you made that from scratch?”
“Cheat-scratch. I didn’t have time to start from fresh tomatoes, so I used canned ones. Not as good as from the garden, but it works in a pinch.”
She grinned at that. “You’re a man of surprising talents, Graham Sweeney.”
He took the risk of reaching for her hand and lacing fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away, which he took as a good sign. “You’ve got some surprises, too. But keep going.”
The idea that she might be a mystery seemed to faze her, and it took a moment before she could snap out of it. “Uh, where . . .”
“None of the guys took an interest in Zach.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat, and squeezed his hand. He knew she meant it as a sign to let go. Perversely, he squeezed back and kept on eating with his other hand. She might be finished, but he wasn’t nearly done. Not with his food, and sure as hell not with her.
“Henry—that’s Zach’s father—is not a great guy. He’s no evil cartoon villain, or a criminal or anything. Just not a great dad, or that nice of a human. Not someone I should have procreated with. But hey, when you’re eighteen . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “He had a cute butt.”
That made him smile. “I’m sure a cute butt is very important.”
“Of course.” Her eyes drifted down to the seat of his chair, and he had a feeling it wasn’t meant to be ironic. Did he pass the Cute Butt test?
“He’s around just enough to make things miserable when he wants to. It’s his favorite card to play. He knows I love Zach, and worry about his allergies. He knows he can use that to his advantage. He plays with people, manipulating them like Claymation to get what he wants with the minimum effort required. It’s just what he does. And that’s why there can’t be anything between us.”
Graham played gently with the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse skip and flutter. “I don’t plan on living with the guy, so I don’t know what he has to do with this.”
“Everything. And nothing. But mostly, everything.” She sighed. “It’s hard to think when you do that.”
“Stop thinking then.” His fingers trailed up to the inside of her elbow and back down again. Had he ever felt something as soft as Kara’s skin? “For tonight, could you do that?”
Her eyes widened, and he waited for the refusal. The denial. The put-off.
And waited.
*
“KARA.”
Her brain had all but turned off. The way he stroked her arm—just her arm—had her entire body almost shivering in anticipation. Anticipation of what, she couldn’t really say. Physical intimacy was—despite having a son for proof—really not something she had much experience in. Sex, maybe. But intimacy . . . that was a whole different story.