When I Need You (Need You #4)

“Wait—”

He said, “Nope,” over his shoulder. “I got this.”

While he paid, I set out paper plates, napkins, cups and a jug of milk on the dining room table.

When Jensen returned with the pizzas, he pulled out the chair next to Calder.

“That’s where Mommy sits.” Calder pointed to the chair across from him. “You can sit over there.”

I mouthed “Sorry” at him. Calder was set in his ways about a few things.

“No worries.”

We helped ourselves to pizza. I said, “Thanks for buying us dinner. My turn next time.”

Wait. Would he think that was presumptive?

“Sounds fair.” He looked at Calder. “So that’s your spot at the table.”

He nodded.

“Since I live by myself, I can sit anywhere I want at my table. So I never sit in the same place two days in a row.”

“How come?”

“From the time I was in a high chair until I graduated from high school, I had no choice but to sit at the same place at our family table. And since I’m the youngest, it seemed like I was the last one to get food.”

“Do you sit in the same place at home now?” Calder asked.

“Nope. But I am bigger than both of my brothers so now I get the food first.”

Calder took a huge bite of his cheese pizza and said, “You are a giant.”

“Calder. Do not talk with your mouth full.”

He mumbled, “Sorry.”

“And when you’re done chewing, apologize to Mr. Lund. You are aware of the no-name-calling rule in our house.” I glanced at Jensen, wondering if he’d jump in and assure me that Calder didn’t have to apologize. My biggest pet peeve when attempting to teach my son to mind his manners was when people—even my brother—tried to let it slide. Might be a small thing to them, but as a single parent, I needed Calder to listen to me and obey the rules I set for him.

Jensen said nothing as he helped himself to two more slices of pizza.

Calder took a big swig of milk before he said, “Sorry, Mr. Lund.”

“I’m cool with you calling me Jensen, or Jens.”

“Pop-pop said they call you The Rocket ’cause you run so fast.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jensen tense up.

But Calder, being a six-year-old in his own little world, didn’t notice. He continued on. “I could call you that.”

“Nah. Jensen is my grandpa’s last name and I was named after him, so stick with that, ’kay?”

“Okay.”

Calder didn’t chatter like he usually did. He kept sneaking looks at Jensen, as if trying to figure out why Jensen was here.

We were on the same page there.

After helping clean up, Jensen said, “I’ll leave you guys to enjoy the rest of your night.” He smirked at me. “If you decide to go out again, maybe carry an umbrella.”

“Hilarious.” I handed him a box with the leftovers. “Here.”

“Did you keep some?”

I shook my head. Evidently he hadn’t noticed that only three slices remained from two large pizzas. “You paid. I’ve got plenty of food. I forgot to say thank you for putting the groceries away.”

“No problem.” He studied me. “You sure you’re okay?”

Apparently I hadn’t hidden my mood very well. I forced a smile. “I’m good.”

“All right.” He said, “Later, little dude.”

Calder stood on the couch and said, “Later, Rocketman.”

Jensen laughed. “He’s determined to call me that.”

I poked Jensen in the chest. “You have the word rocket as a nickname. That is the coolest thing to a little boy. You would’ve done the same thing at his age.”

“True.”

“Good night, Lund.”

“Later, sunshine.”

Sunshine? When I’d been moody from the moment I saw him?

He’d probably meant that sarcastically.

After I’d tucked Calder in bed, I was half-tempted to call it a day and crawl between the sheets myself. But I knew I’d just stare at the ceiling and fret.

I poured another mug of wine and crossed to the patio door, watching rain slide down the glass like tears and pool on the concrete balcony. The dreary weather perfectly fit my mood.

Not only would the cancellation of the camp be devastating to my son, I’d already arranged my summer work schedule around the day camp hours. Finding a replacement camp at this late date would be nearly impossible. But I’d have to start looking right away.

Four soft knocks on the door pulled me out of my brooding.

I had no idea how long I’d been staring aimlessly into the night, but I knew who I’d find standing in the hallway.

And I was really glad he’d come back.





Nine


JENSEN




Maybe I was an idiot, but I knocked on Rowan’s door two and a half hours after I’d left.

I wasn’t sure if she’d answer. Part of me wasn’t sure why I was even there.

Except another part of me recognized I found it too hard to stay away from her.

Rowan opened the door and blocked it, her arms crossed over her chest. “Did you forget something?”

I stared at her lips. The cocky side of me almost responded, Yeah, baby, I forgot to kiss the hell out of you before I left. I tamped that idea down. “I thought you might want to talk about whatever is bothering you tonight.”

“What makes you think anything is wrong?”

My eyes searched hers but I didn’t say anything.

“Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I was about to go to bed when you came a-knocking.”

Such a little liar you are. But I’d learned that if I didn’t respond, she’d find the silence uncomfortable and tell me everything I wanted to know.

Three . . . two . . . one . . .

“Fine. Come in. But I finished off the wine.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for a drinking buddy.”

She harrumphed behind me after I walked past her into the living room.

I took the chair opposite the couch.

Rowan plopped in the middle of the sofa and eyed me suspiciously. “What’s really going on?”

“You tell me. I’ve hung out with you every night this week. That means, like it or not, I can tell when something is wrong.” I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “So talk to me. Maybe it’ll help.”

She sighed. Blinked. Fidgeted. Sighed again.

I lifted an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

Then she bit her lip as she focused on my mouth.

“Damn. Now I get it. You can’t talk to me because your issues are about me, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“Admit it: You want me.” I grinned at her. “You aren’t the first woman who finds me irresistible after agreeing to the just-friends parameters. As much as I’d love to take you for an all-night ride on the magic rocket—”

“Omigod. You are unbelievable!”

“That’s what I’ve heard—firsthand with the screams, moans and praising my name as a sex god—so there’s no use denying it or you pretending—”

“For your information, egomaniac, my mood has nothing to do with you and your big rocket and supposed ability to induce screaming orgasms. I’m upset and distracted because the dance camp that I signed Calder up for months ago, the camp he loved so much last year, got canceled today. I have no idea what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to break it to him because it will break his little heart.”