Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(15)

“What’s a bubble thought?”

I feel like he’s missing my point here.

“Ever read a comic? Or see one in the newspaper? Your dad seems like the type of person who reads the newspaper.”

“Only on the weekends,” Luke supplies as I back out.

Figures.

“Okay, so comic book characters sometimes think things that they don’t say out loud. And that’s drawn as those little bubbles coming out of their head. So sometimes—bubble thoughts. That way, you don’t hurt anyone’s feelings when you say it out loud. Got it?”

“When you called my dad a woman hater, was that a bubble thought?”

Shiiiiittttttt.

Called out by a five-year-old.

I’m teaching a kid about bubble thoughts when I haven’t mastered the concept myself.

I swallow and peer back at him in the rearview mirror. “Yeah. It was a bubble thought.

Sometimes they slip out on the best of us.”

“What do you do when that happens?”

I groan and stare hard at the road in front of me as we cruise down the main street toward the empty fields that head back to Wishing Well Ranch.

“You apologize,” I say, feeling like a heaping pile of trash for saying what I said. Made even worse by the knowledge that his son heard me.

“My dad will accept your apology. He likes you.”

“How do you know he likes me?” He’s mentioned this twice now, and honestly, I’m downright confused.

“Because he hasn’t said a thing about rolling around in the manure pile.”

I snort. Because that’s the bar. If Cade Eaton “likes” you, you’ll know because he won’t mention his preference for rolling around in horse shit.

Within minutes we’re on a back country road and our serious conversation turns to squeals of joy as the wise-beyond-his-years kid in the back seat tosses heads of fucking lettuce out the window and laughs hysterically.

I laugh too.





7


Cade


Willa: I’m sorry I called you a woman hater.

Cade: It’s fine.

Willa: Do you know what the first thing I did this morning was?

Cade: Willa, I’m working. If everything is okay, we don’t need to chat.

Willa: I put my panties on.

Willa: Are you ignoring me?

Willa: I figured you’d be proud. Day one and I’m knocking all the rules right out of the park.

Cade: If I pay you more, will you stop texting me about this?

Willa: Probably not. I don’t need the money. I’m just easily bored, and poking the bear is fun.

“H ow was your first day?” I ask as Willa cuts into one of the chicken breasts I whipped up for us the minute I got in the door.

It was a strange transition. It’s like she didn’t realize she was off the clock as soon as I walked in the house. She offered to cook dinner, and I shot her a death glare. I love cooking dinner; it’s how I unwind at the end of the day. It’s when I get to spend time with Luke.

I think I expected the glare to send her scurrying to her room, but all she did was roll her eyes at me.

Offering to help with dinner isn’t a crime, and I need to get over this idea that I’ll just be able to snap my fingers and have her disappear when I walk in the door.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling walking into a house in full swing. One where I can hear my son’s giggles and Willa’s soft, raspy tones.

“We had a great day, didn’t we, Luke?” She grins over at him, and he grins back.

He’s smitten.

When I got home, they were playing dinosaurs outside. I can honestly say I’ve never heard a woman make the noises that Willa was making. Some combination of a goose honking and a donkey braying, intermingled with that light, charm-like laughter.

She was stomping around with her hands folded up in front of her like those tiny T. rex arms.

She looked insane and carefree.

And fucking beautiful.

“Other than playing Dinosaur Ranch, what did the two of you get up to?”

“Nothing,” Luke says altogether too quickly, and I see a flash of shiny copper hair as Willa’s head flips in his direction. One perfectly manicured eyebrow arching at him.

Her bullshit detection is well-honed. I suppose that comes with working with children.

Mine is just from wading through bullshit every damn day. Those goddamn cowboys in the bunkhouse. My brothers. Town drama. My ex.

The only person who doesn’t exhaust me is my little sister Violet. But that could be just because she moved away to the coast.

“We didn’t do nothing, Luke.” Willa spears a green bean, and I try not to get distracted by the way she slides it into her mouth.

“We . . .” My son flips his gaze between us. Guilty as all get-out. “Made pancakes! With chocolate chips! Lots and lots of chocolate chips.”

Willa winces as she glances back down at her plate. When she peeks up and catches me staring at her, she says, “What? You said no sugar after dinner.”

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back on Luke. “What else?”

“Nothing—” he starts, right as Willa says, “We bought heads of lettuce and then threw them out the window of my Jeep.”

My lips roll together as I cast a quick glance in her direction, seeing that she looks entertained and fucking clueless.