“I hope I’m faster than Ethan.”
Amanda smiled and tapped his nose. “Ooh, I just thought of something. How about after this we go out for a special brunch? My treat.”
Holt was staring at her. Uh-oh. She’d gotten so caught up with Robby that she wasn’t thinking about the fact that Holt didn’t want her in his orbit for some reason. But then his expression softened. “French toast sound good to me.”
“Pancakes,” Robby said. “Chocolate chip ones. And bacon.”
“That’s what I’m having too,” Amanda said.
Robby was smiling and excited again.
“You know, Robby,” Holt said, kneeling down in front of his son again, “I like the way you handled that conversation with Ethan. Except I got the feeling you were about to push him. You might have thought he deserved it because he wasn’t being kind, but pushing someone is wrong. Same with hitting. Right?”
“Yeah. But I did want to push him and hit him. Teachers always say ‘use your words,’ but sometimes I don’t know what to say.”
“I completely understand,” Holt said. “When you feel that way, just walk away. You can find me and we can talk it over, or if you’re at school, you can tell your teacher.”
“’Kay, Daddy.”
“Family hug?” Holt said, holding out his arms.
Robby flung himself at his father, and Amanda realized just how much she wished she could be part of that family hug—and how attached she was to both Daltons.
A whistle blew and then a man’s voice could be heard over a megaphone. “Time to line up, moms and sons!”
“That’s us!” Amanda said, taking Robby’s hand. “Ready?”
The smile on Robby’s face almost made Amanda cry. “Ready!”
Amanda glanced at Holt, but again, he seemed...distant. Something was bothering him. Something that might have been exacerbated by what had just happened.
“See you two at the finish line,” Holt said. “I’ll be cheering you on.”
The whistle blew again and the runners were off. Amanda felt like part of her heart was right beside her and the other part waiting at the finish line.
* * *
Holt had been prepared for his son to want to talk about his mother during brunch, but Robby hadn’t brought up Sally Anne once, and now the three of them—Holt, Robby and Amanda—were just about finished with brunch. On one hand, Holt was relieved the subject hadn’t come up; on the other, maybe he himself should have asked Robby outright if he had questions or wanted to talk about his mother. Waiting for cues from Robby had always been the way Holt had handled the topic, but maybe that was wrong. Maybe Holt should ask. He wished he had all the answers, all the right answers—to his own questions and to Robby’s—but he didn’t.
And maybe talking in front of Amanda wouldn’t have been a good idea, anyway, though she seemed comfortable with the conversation in the park. She’d let him handle it, which he appreciated, and when she had joined in, it had been to back him up that Robby was a great kid, which he’d also appreciated.
During brunch, his son had been focused on talking about the run—that he’d finished without stopping, that he passed by that “mean Ethan Snowling” and that it was one of his favorite days of his entire life, maybe only after adopting Bentley and Oliver.
Because he’d had a “mom” for the morning? Because he’d simply had a fun time with his tutor, who he liked very much, his dad cheering them on?
Holt had thought he should distance himself from Amanda, that he should put any notion of a second chance out of his head, but maybe he had it wrong again. As he’d watched the mile-long race, Amanda and Robby running their hearts out, Robby smiling, focused, happy, Amanda so damned beautiful without a shred of makeup, her hair in a ponytail, wearing the bright blue race T-shirt, a thought had hit him. Hard. Their wants and needs were in perfect alignment.
Amanda wanted a child. He wanted a mother for Robby. Maybe the two of them finding what they needed in each other was the answer. Amanda had said she was done with love. And hell, maybe he was too. He didn’t want to be, but after his marriage fiasco and trying to date to find Robby a good mom, he’d backed way off from trying to find a life partner.
They could both get they wanted. What they needed.
He’d just have to show her that she could trust him, that he was the guy she’d always thought he was.
The race had ended in a snap, so he’d had to put his thoughts out of his head so he could drive them all to the café without crashing into a pole. He’d done a good job of focusing on his breakfast companions, but now he was back to wondering. Was it possible—
“Earth to Holt, earth to Holt.”
He started, realizing Amanda was talking to him.
Robby giggled and put down his little glass of orange juice. “Daddy, Amanda was saying your name but you were in another world like people say about me when I’m not paying attention to them. You were probably thinking of something really good, right?”
He smiled—and wanted to reach over and hug his son hard. “Yeah, I was thinking of something good.” He turned to Amanda. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Hey, aren’t those your brothers? See—by the painting of the dog with the cowboy hat on?”
Holt looked over and squinted. Huh. Dale and Shep were just getting up from their table. “Yup, you’re right. Hey, Robby. I see your uncles over there. Wanna go say hi?”
Robby leaped up and raced over before Holt could remind him to walk. Luckily, a waitress with a tray of full plates wasn’t anywhere in his path.
Holt tried to put cash on the table but Amanda reminded him this was her idea and her treat, and he relented. When the group met up at the door, Shep and Dale said they were headed to watch a rodeo competition a few towns over and invited Robby, who practically catapulted onto the ceiling in excitement—an opportunity to see Daring Drake. Holt took off Robby’s race bib, and off the boy went with his uncles. Again, Holt was grateful that he’d moved to Bronco so that his son would have a big family who loved spending time with him.
Now he was also grateful he’d moved here because of Amanda.
“Take a walk?” he asked her. He bit his lip, wondering if he should come right out with his idea about them. It was a big deal, though, and something he should think over. He held open the door and out they went into the warm, bright sunshine.
“You’re cutting me out, aren’t you,” she said, a statement, not a question. She stood stock-still, staring at him. “You canceled yesterday and you seemed conflicted this morning—before the conversation with Robby, I mean.”
Since they were smack in the middle of town, he kept seeing people he knew and so did Amanda, so they decided to talk in his truck. Once they were both settled, he said, “I’m going to be honest with what’s on my mind.”
“Good,” she said.
“You said you were done with love and romance, but I kept thinking maybe I could have a second chance here. But then I realized that I don’t deserve it. I was selfish ten years ago—walking away from our relationship to protect myself. Not you, myself. I didn’t want to get found out for the imposter I was.”
She seemed to be taking that in. “Okay, I get that. But that was a decade ago. Now is another story. You’re distancing yourself because...?”
He stared out the windshield, then turned to her. “I was thinking I should because nothing in my life is working out right now, Amanda. Relationships haven’t worked out—from my marriage to the women I’ve dated the past year. I need to focus on Robby—get him more settled before school starts. I need to be more present for him, too, as evidenced by this morning and the conversation before the race about his mother. I need to focus on him. And I need to fix my problems with my dad—somehow.”
“So, canceling a tutoring and babysitting session with me is helping Robby? I’m part of t
hat ‘get him settled’ before school starts.”
“Well, thinking I should back off from you was before I realized the opposite is true.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about exactly?”
Just come out with it, he told himself. You don’t risk, you don’t get. That was the damned truth. He looked at her, bracing himself. “I’m just saying let’s give this a real shot, Amanda.”
“Give what a shot—a relationship?”
He nodded. “You want a child. And you adore Robby. I need a wonderful, loving mother for him. Someone I trust. Neither of us is looking for...someone else to give us what we need. So...why not give us a chance?”
She was staring at him as though he’d grown an extra head. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Very. I want to do what’s right and best for Robby. That seems to perfectly align with what you want, Amanda.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. Oh hell. Did he mess this up?
“What are you thinking?” he asked gently.
“I’m thinking I don’t know. That I just need to go think—alone.”
“I understand.” He didn’t want her to get out of the truck. He just wanted her close.
“So, basically, Holt, you’re asking me out. On a date. I mean, if we’re gonna start something, it’s gotta start with that first date.”
A date. Yes. “We can see how it feels to be together on a date. And that date can be anything you want it to be, Amanda. We can take Bentley for a long walk and just talk and hang out. We can go out to dinner and share a bottle of wine. We can sit on the sofa and watch Marvel movies.”
“You mean rom-coms,” she said, sending him a half smile.
There was hope here. He could tell. “I’ll watch any lovey-dovey movie you want.”
She glanced out the window, then turned to him. “I’m not saying no. Or yes. I need to think about this, Holt.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll take the weekend to think about it. I’ll be over Monday to tutor Robby and babysit. We can talk afterward, okay?”
How would he get through the weekend not knowing if she’d say yes?
“I’m just asking for a chance, Amanda. To show you who I am now.”
She looked at him and he knew by her expression, by her eyes that she was halfway to yes already. She wanted a second chance just like he did, but after how he’d treated her, after getting left at the altar in her wedding dress, she was afraid to try again, afraid to even believe in love. She might say no, that dating—even one date—was out of the question.
“See you Monday,” she said, getting out of the truck.
He wished she was still beside him.
Chapter Twelve
“Of course you’re going on a date!” Brittany said. “And please, I’m not talking a dog walk in the woods in your unsexy hiking sandals. I’m talking Dinner. Candles. Wine. A good-night kiss...”
Amanda and her roommate were sitting on the balcony of their building, Amanda staring off at the mountains in the distance. She’d told Brittany every detail of the morning and conversation with Holt after brunch. When Amanda had gotten home, she’d tried to do some work but couldn’t concentrate, and was grateful when her wise and insightful roommate had come in.
Amanda took a sip of her iced tea and stared out at the view, hoping the beautiful vistas would provide all the answers. No such luck. “I don’t know how to just let go of everything I’ve been through, though. I don’t trust anymore, Brittany. And I don’t believe love even exists.”
“I know it’s not easy to put yourself out there. Especially with a guy who broke your heart. But love definitely exists. Case in point, our neighbor Mel, who’s rarely home these days because she’s with Gabe—and those two are big time in love. Ferociously so.”
That was true. The early days of Mel’s relationship with Gabriel Abernathy had been anything but “love at first sight” and happy-ever-after. They’d fought hard for how strongly they felt for each other, despite their issues. And love won.
Her roommate sipped her own drink, then pushed her long curls behind her shoulders. “Holt Dalton is asking you for a chance. And one date to see. A baby step. If you’re at the restaurant and looking at him across the candlelit table with some soft music playing and you feel like throwing up, fine—then you’re not meant to be dating him or anyone. But at least see.”
Amanda knew she wouldn’t feel remotely nauseated or the slightest bit of dread if she were sitting across from Holt, both of them dressed up for a date. Butterflies, sure. But in a good way. Because Holt was so good-looking, so sexy, and he was part of her past and a big part of her present; she was already wrapped up in his life. So much so that she’d run a mother-son race with his son.
That was the problem, though. Being so invested in his life. The good butterflies. The real date. Everything that would be between them in that restaurant and hovering in the air. She’d have a taste of romance with Holt and be drawn right back in. Then down the line, whether two dates later or a few months, she’d be dumped again. It’s not you, it’s me. This just isn’t working out. I thought we could be what we each needed, but I was wrong...
That was what she was afraid of. So why try at all? Why go on that one date when she’d end up with a broken heart, ugly-crying for days and eating Ben & Jerry’s out of the container in bed with Poindexter?
She said exactly that to Brittany.
“And here I thought I was stubborn,” her roommate said. “Honey, I don’t get serious about the men I date because I’m not looking to be a wife and mama. You are. Everything you want, deep in your heart—which includes love and romance and happily-ever-after and a child—is possible with Holt Dalton. And I’ll just come right out with this—the man you never stopped loving.”
That was definitely true. “And if he hurts me again?” Amanda asked, biting her lip. She pictured herself waiting in a hotel room in Las Vegas, the veil she’d splurged on with the delicate beading that had reminded her of something Audrey Hepburn would have worn, her groom never appearing. Holt—never appearing.
She’d be knocked to her knees.
“Then, Amanda Jenkins,” Brittany said, sitting up very straight and looking at her pointedly, “I’ll be there to see you through the heartache, and in time, you’ll open yourself up to going through it all over again because that’s life. Love is everything.”
“But not for you?” Amanda asked.
“Hey, I’ve got nothing against love. I just don’t want marriage and kids. Right now. Maybe not ever. I don’t know.”
“Why is the subject of love so damned complicated?” Amanda asked with a sigh.
“Right?” Brittany said.
They clinked their iced tea glasses and sat in silence, looking out at the breathtaking view.
Amanda heard a sexy giggle, then a male voice say, “C’mere you.” She turned to see that her next-door neighbor, Mel, and her fiancé had come out onto the adjacent balcony, locked in a very passionate kiss, eyes closed, arms wrapped around each other as they edged toward the railing.
“Um, don’t fall over,” Brittany called over, shooting Amanda a grin.
Mel opened an eye, her mouth forming an O at being caught in a hot PDA, before Gabe reclaimed her lips, taking off his cowboy hat and holding it to the side to shield the lovebirds from view.
Amanda and Brittany both laughed, but inside, Amanda was deep-sighing wistfully. That sure did bring back memories—of her two big romances and some littler ones. Love, desire, romance.
Dammit, she wanted in.
* * *
“I know what you need, Holt.”
He glanced toward the voice—his dad’s. Why did he doubt that Neal Dalton thought he knew what he needed?
Holt looked back down at the new-hire checklist on his iPad and clicked the first two boxes as the cowboy-trainee they’d h
ired mucked out the big pen at the far end of the barn. The guy was doing a great job so far. The worst duties on the ranch always fell to the new hire, and so far, the short, wiry cowboy was working hard, humming a country tune Holt recognized. Holt was trying to pretend he was doing something else besides assessing the guy, so it was a good thing his father had come along.
“And what’s that?” Holt asked his dad.
“What you need,” Neal said, pointing a finger at him, “is a wife. And not just any wife. One who’ll make a good mother for Robby. Someone like the librarian with the curly red hair. Every time your mother and I take Robby to the library and anyone is noisy, she cuts them a look with a serious shush and then there’s blessed quiet.”
Holt knew the shusher. There was a reason she didn’t often work the children’s section. Holt once overheard her nastily chastising a woman for putting a book back in the wrong place, and Holt walked up to the mean shusher and pointed at the large framed sign on the wall that read Choose Kindness. The shusher turned red, and the chastised woman grinned. “Robby needs a loving mother above all. Someone who can be firm when need be, yes. But loving is number one.”
“Well, Charlotte—that’s her name—seems like a perfectly good candidate, and I took the liberty of telling her that I have a son who has a young child and maybe she’d like to join us for dinner some time.”
Oh God. “Dad, tell me you didn’t try to set me up on a date, especially with that woman.”
“I sure as hell did. And guess what she said. She said, ‘Oh, do you mean Holt? I know him and Robby. They come in every week. I’d love to get to know Holt better.’ That means she can handle a boy like Robby.”
A boy like Robby. And “direction” from someone like the redhead meant punishment not guidance.
Holt barely held his tongue. He wasn’t interested in rehashing Robby’s needs with his father. Besides, they’d had this conversation countless times over the past year. “Dad, there’s one thing I agree with you on—I do need a good mother for Robby. But she’ll be of my choosing. I don’t need help in that department.”
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