Heartless: A Small Town Single Dad Romance(45)

They stay away, looking at me like I’m an escaped convict, which works just fine for me.

I even spend time together with a couple of moms that I actually like. Ones with nice kids and

good senses of humor. I feel relieved that not all the moms in this town are Bunnies.

But I’m not feeling relieved anymore.

Because Luke just sprayed vomit all over the back of my passenger’s side seat.

I pull over on the country road. We’re only five minutes from the ranch. So close, and yet so far away. After running around the front of the Jeep, I whip the back passenger’s side door open and take in the barf-covered boy before me.

“You okay, little man?”

His eyes are wide and watery. “I’m so sorry, Willa.”

“Oh, sweet boy. Don’t be sorry.”

“I barfed in your car.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I reach forward and run a hand through his wet hair.

“It’s a mess!” He’s crying now and I want to hug him, but we all have our limits. I’ve handled my fair share of vomit as a bartender, but hugging a barf-covered child is where I draw the line.

Instead, I unbuckle him, whip his shirt off, and then squeeze him to me. Sobs rack his little body.

“I-I’m s-s-so sorry!” He’s wailing now.

“Shh. Luke. Luke. It’s just a car. It doesn’t matter. You’re what matters. I don’t care about the car, babe. I’m more worried about you.” I pull away, looking at him, trying hard not to glance down.

Because I know there is barf on me. The last thing I need to do is start heaving too.

He nods tearfully at me. “Willa?”

“Yeah?”

“You have throw up on you. I can still see a strawberry.”

I pop my lips open and opt to mouth breathe so I stop smelling it, focusing on his wide blue eyes.

I’m an adult, I’m an adult, I’m an adult. “That’s okay. Everything can be washed. I’m going to buckle you in and drive the rest of the way. If you feel like you need to barf again, just tell me and I’ll pull over for you. Got it?”

He nods, looking determined.

And God bless his determination because we stop twice more on the way back to the ranch.

The first thing we do is strip down outside. At least all pieces of barfy clothes. Which for him is everything, and for me is just my tank top over my bikini.

The shower proves a challenge because he can’t stop retching.

I’ve never felt more helpless. I’ve never felt teary watching someone get sick—usually I’m just annoyed—but watching his little body heave so violently has the back of my throat aching and my eyes watering.

He’s finally clean, seems relatively empty, and just looks totally exhausted standing in the middle of his room.

“When will my dad be home?”

I check my watch. “In about an hour. I’m going to call him and get our clothes in the wash. Take a quick shower. How about you lie down?”

He nods, standing in front of me, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. “I want to sleep in my dad’s bed.”

“Yeah, of course.” I know he often sleeps there on the weekends, but weekdays are tough because Cade wakes up so early. We’ll figure it out later. “Let’s go.” I hold my hand out to Luke, but he just nods again, clearly out of it.

I touch his forehead and it feels hot. But maybe that’s from the shower? Fuck, I don’t know. I’d ask Harvey for help, but he isn’t back yet. Rhett is on the road. Summer is at work.

I opt to scoop Luke up, propping his chin on my shoulder. His little arms wrap around my neck and my arms fold under his legs so that I’m carrying him like a koala.

He sighs when I press a kiss to his hair without even thinking. I don’t know what’s appropriate anymore. I know he’s not my kid, but he feels like mine in some little way. He feels like mine enough to comfort him when he’s sick.

I carry him down the hall, trying not to stress at how heavy he feels in my arms. He’s just tired. He has a tummy bug. Kids get sick. He’s not on his deathbed—or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

I nudge Cade’s door open with my foot and take in his room. The door is always closed, and I feel like I’m invading his privacy, but I’m also insanely curious. Like the rest of the house, his room is warm and airy, a total contrast to the main house where his dad lives. The walls are a creamy yellow, framed by big crown moldings painted a high-gloss white. The oak bed frame is stained a yellowish tone, and in most cases I would say it’s dated—but something about it works in here. Topped with a cream and navy plaid duvet set, the space is still masculine without being dark.

It’s honestly not what I was expecting.

Once I gently slide Luke onto the king-sized bed, I peel back the duvet and tuck him in. He’s already half-asleep, but he groans when I fold the blanket in tight around him.

Peeking over my shoulder, I see the door to a small en suite bathroom. With a few steps over, I push it open, deciding this setup is ideal.

The bathroom is tight quarters, just a toilet and a sink and vanity. It’s clean, and it smells like Cade’s signature pine smell mixed with something spicy and sweet.

I momentarily wonder if it would be weird to just hang out in here for a few minutes.