A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“Yes!”

Jen’s heart fluttered as she heard the word. She stepped into the room.

“Hi, sweetie.”

Jack grinned and waved, but didn’t speak.

By eight that night, she had to accept the truth. Her son would talk—just not around her. With her he used their special physical communication.

“I don’t get it,” she told Kirk when they’d retreated to their bedroom. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not doing anything wrong. He doesn’t need to talk to you, Jen. You know exactly what he wants. But at least we know he can talk.”

How could he not see that wasn’t good enough? “So you think I hover. That I’m keeping him from talking.”

“I don’t mean it like that. You’re a great mom.”

“No, I’m not. A great mom wouldn’t have a son who won’t talk to her. A great mom would have figured this out weeks ago. I’m terrible and useless. Everything is awful.”

She knew she was saying everything wrong and that she would regret saying all this later, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

“I’ve made this happen,” she continued. “I’m the problem. You and Lucas have him for fifteen minutes and suddenly he’s fine. I’m with him all day long and I couldn’t fix anything. I hate this. It’s not fair. It’s not right. What’s wrong with me?”

She hurried out of the room. But there was nowhere to go, she thought grimly as she brushed away tears. She wasn’t about to run out on her family. She had her husband and her son. Her son, whom she loved more than anything on earth. Her son, who would talk to anyone but her.





Chapter Eighteen

Zoe told herself to live in the moment. To not ask questions when she was hopeful but also terrified of the answer. Still, when a handsome man showed up with a bottle of sparkling cider, the nonalcoholic kind, and settled in as if he planned to spend the evening, it was hard not to hope.

They were out on the small patio, sitting in lounge chairs next to each other. It was about an hour until sunset and the sky was that perfect blue right before the orange color. Mason lay in a patch of sun, his tail flicking every now and then, as if he, too, wanted to know.

Zoe glanced at Steven. “Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but why are you here?”

He chuckled, then drank some of his cider. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask.”

“Still waiting.”

He reached for her hand. “I heard you talked to my mom.”

She grimaced. “I’m not sure I would call it a conversation.” The memory still hurt. She’d honest to God thought that she and Pam were friends. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“I’m trying to see her side,” she said with a sigh. “You’re her son and she loves you. She’s looking out for you. But wow, was she very clear on her thoughts. She really doesn’t like me.”

He squeezed her fingers before releasing her hand. “She likes you fine, but she’s worried about me.”

“That woman has some serious Mama Bear in her. I would not want to get between her and one of you ever.”

“Does that mean you’re going to do what she says? You’re going to break up with me?”

She put down her drink and turned until she was facing him. She put her feet firmly on the ground. Mostly to steady herself but also to be able to flee if necessary. Because sometimes a girl had to bolt. What with being pregnant and all, she could pretend she was going to throw up, and wasn’t that convenient?

“It’s not my decision to make,” she said carefully. “You said you needed time. That’s about you, not me.”

“And if I still want to see you?”

Her heart gave a little thud. “That would be nice.”

He smiled. “I was hoping for more than nice.” The smile faded as he turned toward her. “Zoe, I do want to keep seeing you. I’ve thought about what you told me. I know it’s not going to be easy. You’re dealing with a lot. The pregnancy is complicated but not a deal breaker. I like you. I think we have something special and I don’t want to lose that.”

What on earth had she done to deserve a guy this great? she wondered. Maybe she’d saved kittens in a previous life.

“Are you sure? Because I don’t know what’s going to happen with Chad and everyone else. Your mom is going to be really mad. I don’t want her hating me. Or you, although I guess she really wouldn’t hate you for long. You’re her son. But I’m pregnant. You have to get that, Steven. I’m going to get fat and my ankles are going to swell and we won’t be able to have sex for a long time and when all that is done, there will be a baby and while I’d love for you to be involved, I don’t know how much you want and you’re not the biological father and I don’t know if that matters.”

She paused for breath. While she was inhaling, he leaned in and kissed her.

“That’s a lot,” he whispered.

“It is. I want you to be prepared.”

“There’s no preparing for that.” He kissed her again. “I’m going to have to wing it.”

He leaned back in his chaise. “What about those raised plant beds you were talking about? We should get on that. You’ll want fresh, organic fruits and vegetables for yourself and later for the baby. Do you have a tape measure? I need you to show me where you want them. I need to do some research to be sure, but I’m guessing the supplies are easy enough to get at the hardware store. The local nursery should have organic soil, but we’ll have to make sure we get the right kind for growing food.” He looked at her. “Unless you’re going to use it for flowers?”

She blinked. “No. I was thinking vegetables and maybe some berries.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She shifted until she was stretched out again and did her best not to ask yet again if he was sure. Steven had decided. For reasons not the least bit clear to her, he wanted to stay involved. She told herself to simply accept him at his word and be happy.

Still, she couldn’t help asking, “What are you going to tell your mom?”

“I don’t think she has an opinion on your plant beds.”