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You’d think, as a mother, I’d have something prepared for this, knowing that the question would arise. But I didn’t. Because I’d been putting my head in the sand for most things, like paying the bills on the table along with the hefty one from Greenstone I was expecting any day now, and almost anything pertaining to Lance and thoughts about him that were not professional.

That was all of my thoughts, since nothing I thought about him was professional.

I focused on Nathan’s wide, expectant and patient eyes. “Yeah, Mr. Lance and his friends are all around to make sure you stay here with your momma where you belong,” I said. “They’re really nice people who think you’re awesome and want you to be happy always.”

Nathan reached up to play with a strand of my hair. It was a punch to my heart. He’d done that with his chubby baby fists ever since he was born, and he still did it now.

I hoped with all my soul that my little boy would still look at me exactly like he was now—like I had all the answers in the world—and grab a hold of my hair like this.

I knew my time was very limited, as gazing up in wonder at your mom and touching her was not something boys did for very long.

“I am happy though, Momma,” he said, smiling to prove his point. “And I’m really happy that Captain is here to come to school with me and have pancakes on Sundays.”

Fuck. Another thing that I hadn’t prepared for. How in the heck I was going to tell my son that his favorite superhero wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life?

“I’m so glad that you’re happy, baby,” I told him, trying to make sure my voice didn’t break or my own smile didn’t crack. “But Captain is a superhero, right?”

He nodded seriously.

“Well, you know that superheroes don’t just help one family. They’ve got a whole world of people to look after.”

Another serious nod.

If there was anything my five-year-old didn’t fuck around with, it was superheroes.

“So that means, at some point soon, Mr. Lance is going to have to go off and help other people. He won’t be able to come to school with you and have pancakes,” I said gently.

Nathan’s smile disappeared.

My own wavered but I made an effort to keep it firmly in place. Nathan didn’t need to get more upset by seeing his mother’s sadness at the prospect of his hero leaving. My little boy was an empath. He felt deep, he felt for himself, and for me, if I let any kind of sadness show. Which was why I perfected the ‘mom smile’ the smile a parent gave their child when they didn’t want them to know their suffering and take it on as their own.

“But I like Captain,” he said, his voice as close to a whine as it ever had been before. As almost perfect as my boy was, he was still a kid. “He likes us.”

“I know, sweet boy,” I said, brushing his hair from his face. “He isn’t a dummy, so of course he likes the most awesome kid on the planet.”I tried to keep my tone light and teasing, so my son’s developing little brain didn’t hear the tightness in it. The fear.

“But you’re the most awesome mom on the planet,” he countered.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Well, of course I am.”

“And he likes you.”

Wow. No way did I see that observation coming from Nathan’s mouth sounding far too wise and knowing for my liking. And my son noticing the fact that the robot badass had any feelings toward me was way too perceptive for my liking. Maybe I needed to have him exorcised. Maybe had the spirit of some old monk rattling around amongst action heroes and dreams about sugar.

I recovered quickly. “Of course he does,” I said with a grin. “But just because he likes us, that doesn’t mean he can stop being a superhero, do you understand that.”

Nathan’s bottom lip jerked out and he nodded slowly, defeated.

“Hey, honeybear,” I said. “You want people to be helped, happy, right?”

Another sad nod.

“So it would be pretty unfair of us to want Lance to stay and not help other people, right?”

Nathan’s brows furrowed. “I guess.”

“My honeybun, he’s not gonna forget about you, promise.”

I knew he wouldn’t. My kid was unforgettable.

Me, on the other hand, I thought Lance was using all his energy to forget before he even left.

I was doing the same.

Or trying to.

Chapter Twelve

I spooned the peanut butter into my mouth, staring aimlessly into our back yard. I loved this time of day, that last glow of light bathing the garden in just enough darkness so I couldn’t see our crappy fence that I kept meaning to get around to repairing. I couldn’t see the trash heap that our back yard neighbors continued to add to as if they were trying to make a record for height width and stench. I could almost pretend that it stretched farther than it did, that there was nothing but nature beyond our home.


Tags: Anne Malcom Greenstone Security Romance