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I was darkly jealous that only Nathan got that. But that was insane and terrible, being jealous of the way a hot guy looked at my child.

“Pancakes are pretty good,” he conceded.

Nathan’s eyes lit up and his grin spread across his face, across the room. My kid’s smile always had a way of leaking into the air around him. “So you’ll come?”

There was no way to say no to that, to him. I wasn’t sure about going to church with Lance, about having to share an enclosed space with him, having eyes stare at us, assume things. I’d been going to the same church since we moved here and it was well known I was the ‘single mother.’ I wasn’t treated differently because of that in this church, which was why I picked it. They were good people. The priest was younger, his sermons a little more interesting and new age than others I’d experienced.

But without fail, I was always approached by older ladies, trying to match me up with their sons, nephews, grandsons.

They all meant well, of course, but no matter how many times I told them I wasn’t interested in dating and only wanted to focus on my son, the matchmaking continued.

Lance being with us would provide them with month’s worth of gossip. And having to explain what he was, or more precisely, what he wasn’t, would not be a fun time.

Especially because the thought of vocalizing such things filled me with an inexplicable sadness, hurt.

So, no, I did not want Lance to come with us. But I would not be the one to burst my son’s bubble. Not with that smile. No one with a heart could do that.

“I think I’d burst into flames if I walked into a church, buddy,” Lance said as response in his attempt to burst Nathan’s bubble.

I wouldn’t be convinced the man didn’t have a heart.

Nathan’s bubble would not burst that easily. His brows furrowed. “Burst into flames?” he repeated. “Why would you do that? It’s not that hot outside.”

I smirked.

Lance stared at Nathan, probably trying to figure out how to respond. “I don’t really go to church, kid.”

“Yes, but it’s not about church, it’s about pancakes,” Nathan said as if such a thing should have been glaringly obvious.

I rolled my eyes. There went my attempt to teach my son about a higher power. To him, a higher power was IHOP.

“Kid, we’re gonna be late,” I cut in, saving Lance. “You know how I explained how everyone in this world is so beautifully different and that means all their versions of church are different?”

Nathan nodded dutifully.

I ruffled his hair, pointedly not looking upward to the man I was talking about. “Well, Lance doesn’t have the same version of church as us. And that’s okay. Remember that?”

Nathan nodded again, though he was frowning still. He moved to look at Lance. “What’s your version of church?”

Oh shit.

I didn’t know Lance’s version of church, or even if he had one, but if he did, it would not be appropriate for five-year-olds.

Something moved in Lance’s face.

Please let him not say tying up his enemies and waterboarding them.

“Fishing,” he said, eyes not leaving Nathan’s.

My own eyes widened, not that Lance noticed, his focus was on my son.

“A calm lake, a cold beer, radio on,” Lance continued, expanding when I knew he didn’t need to. When I didn’t expect him to.

“Fishing?” Nathan replied on a low whisper.

Lance nodded once, jerky, almost dismissive, but there was a slight softness to his face that I was coming to understand he only had with Nathan.

I liked it.

I was also jealous as all hell I didn’t get my own soft look.

Good thing I was going to church, coveting the look my security guard gave my son was definitely some kind of sin.

“Will you take me with you?” Nathan asked. He looked over to me before Lance could answer. “Mom, can we go fishing today instead of church?”

“No, sweetie, we can’t. We’re dressed for church, we’re already late and I think the whole point of Lance going fishing is for solitude,” I said. I cupped his face. “You, my darling boy, are a lot of wonderful and amazing things. And you can give people many wonderful and amazing things just by being you. But you cannot give Lance solitude. Sometimes people just have to do things on their own, ‘kay?”

Nathan frowned at me, I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t understand what the heck I was saying, or if it was because, despite my best efforts, I’d hurt his feelings.

“Like go potty on their own?” he asked after a beat.

Okay, so the frown was not due to either of those things.

I sighed. “We’ve got to go, dude.”

“But you’ll come for pancakes after?” Nathan asked Lance, his face all cute and eyes all wide in the expression that got him pretty much anything he wanted with me.


Tags: Anne Malcom Greenstone Security Romance