“Yeah,” he mumbles to the top of the table¸ making me smile.
“You should have slept in, honey.”
“I don’t like sleeping in.” He yawns, sitting up, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know he enjoys his sleep just as much as me, but his dad has pounded it into his head since he was little that sleeping in is something lazy people do.
When I first got together with Max, he used to laugh about how much I enjoyed sleeping. After awhile, though, my sleeping habits, as well as a lot of other things, became one more of the little things that annoyed him about me. Something he no longer thought was cute or endearing, and believe me, by the end, there was a long list of things Max no longer liked about me.
“Do you want me to make you something for breakfast?”
“I’m just going to have cereal,” he says, standing from the table and going to the fridge, grabbing the gallon of milk.
“When you’re done, we’ll head into town and get our fishing licenses and a couple of poles, and then we can pick up lunch somewhere. We’ll take it with us to a place Gramps used to take me fishing.”
“Really?” he asks, and his whole face lights up as he pours an absurd amount of sugary cereal into his bowl on top of his milk.
“Definitely.” I smile then cringe as the doorbell rings, making a horrendous sound chime through the house. “I think we need to get that fixed,” I say under my breath, and he laughs, stunning me with the carefree sound. Instead of doing what I want to do, which is lean over and hug him or touch him in some way, I give him a small smile and head for the door with a smile on my face.
Things between us have been getting better by the day. I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t feel like he has to choose between his father and me, or if it’s because he feels more relaxed here. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.
Swinging the door open, my heart speeds up when my eyes meet Zach’s. Since that night out on my balcony, I’ve caught glimpses of him coming or going from his house and around town, but I haven’t talked to him again.
“Hey.” I rest against the doorframe, wondering what he’s doing here so early. Looking like he just got out of the shower, his dark hair is still wet. The stubble that was on his jaw days ago is gone, leaving me wondering if I like him more with the facial hair or without. Instead of a plaid shirt today, he has on a long-sleeved Henley that is the same green as his eyes.
“Corneal left this with Aubrey yesterday.” He dips his chin to a large box in his hands then steps forward, forcing me back into the house. I watch him head for the living room, just off the front door, and set the box down on the coffee table, causing it to shake with the weight.
“Thanks for dropping it off.” I feel my skin heat as he turns to face me, and his eyes trek slowly down my body, making me realize I only have on a thin tank top and a pair of very short sleep shorts.
“Hey, Mr. Watters.”
Zach’s eyes go to Hunter, and the intensity that had been in his eyes moments ago disappears as he smiles. “Hey, kid. Just call me Zach. How are you settling in?”
“Good, I have the coolest room, and Mom and I are going fishing today.”
“Oh yeah?” Zach asks, looking at me with a raised brow, probably remembering that I use to hate fishing.
“I’m going to take him out to the road where Gramps used to take me,” I admit softly, feeling my cheeks heat. That spot is the same one Zach and I used to spend hours during the summer, sitting on the tailgate of his old pickup with our fishing poles in the water and our faces glued together.
“I know Pat took his poles with him when he left, but I have a few if you want to borrow them.”
“That’s not necessary.” I shake my head, knowing if we borrow them from him today, I’ll have to see him again when we return them, and there is only so much of being around him that I can take. And I think I’ve reached my limit.
“It’s not a big deal, Shel.”
“Yeah, Mom, it’s not a big deal,” Hunter agrees from my side, but my mind is totally focused on Zach and the fact he called me Shel. “Mom.” Hunter nudges my shoulder, and my eyes swing toward him.
“Um…” I bite my lip, wondering how to get out of this without sounding rude.
“Do you want to come with us?” Hunter asks, looking at Zach, and my eyes widen.
“I’m sure Zach is busy today, honey,” I cut in swiftly, looking at Zach and praying I suddenly have the power of mind control. There is no way I could possibly spend the day with him.
“I’m not.” He smiles, holding my gaze, and my heart plummets.
Crap.
“Let me get the kids. We can take my boat out. They’d probably enjoy getting out on the water for a few hours.”
“A boat?” Hunter breathes, in little boy excitement, and I so badly want to cover my face with my hands and scream at the top of my lungs that this is not happening.
“On a boat,” Zach agrees softly, with his eyes on Hunter.
“Heck yeah,” Hunter shouts, throwing his arms up in the air before proceeding to jump around the room.
“We’ll meet you guys out front in an hour. It’s gonna take me that long to get Aubrey and Steven out of bed.” Zach smiles, ruffling Hunter’s hair as he moves past him and heads for the front door.
“I’m gonna go get ready!” Hunter cries, running out of the room. This leaves me standing there listening to the front door close behind Zach, and the sound of Hunter’s feet pounding up the stairs.
Leaning my head back, I look up at the ceiling and close my eyes, praying to get struck by lightning. When that doesn’t happen, I give up and head for my room to get ready. Finally, after pulling almost every single item of clothing out of my closet, I settle on sneakers, worn jeans that had gotten too tight for me but now fit me comfortably, my warm, light grey sweater, and my thin black raincoat.
I kept telling myself while I was getting ready that it didn’t matter at all what I wore, or if I had on mascara. All we were doing was going fishing. Although, I couldn’t stop feeling like it was important to make a good impression on Zach’s children. Just the thought of meeting them has my hands becoming sweaty and my stomach knotting once more. I really don’t know if I will be able to deal with meeting them, knowing who their mother is and who Zach used to be to me.
“Mom, are you ready?” Hunter yells, breaking into my thoughts as I zip up my jacket.
“I’m coming. I hope you have on something warm. It can get cold out on the water,” I yell back, while tying my hair into a ponytail and leaving the room.
“Is this warm enough?” he asks when I walk into the kitchen, where he’s finishing off his half-eaten bowl of soggy cereal wearing a hoodie and jeans.
“Yes, but bring your raincoat just in case,” I say, and he rolls his eyes, looking like a teenager instead of a boy.
Dropping his bowl in the sink, he mutters, “I’ll go grab it,” before running off and returning a moment later, out of breath, with his coat in his hand. “Are you ready?” he asks again, and I smile at him, shaking my head.
“Let’s go.” I swing out my hand, following him out of the house and down the front steps. Zach and his kids are waiting next to a large red four-door truck surrounded by fishing poles and tackle boxes. As soon as Zach sees us coming, his eyes sweep over me and his lips tilt up at the corners.
“Aubrey, Steven, this is Shelby and her boy, Hunter,” Zach says, introducing us and placing his hand on each of his kids’ shoulders once we’re close.