But why would she be interested in a man like him? She deserved so much better.
“It’s my son Mikey’s favorite.” Her smile dimmed slightly. “Or it used to be. Ever since he came back from college, he’s been making his own meals, taking them up to his room and shutting the door.”
“And you let him get away with that?”
“I suppose I do.” She studied her plate. “I guess I’m afraid of confronting him right now.”
Conner slowly put down his fork. “You’re afraid of your own son?”
“No, of course not, it’s just . . .” She hesitated. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me.” Conner wasn’t letting it go. The vibe he was getting off her was all wrong.
“It’s stupid.”
“If he’s making you feel afraid in your own home, that’s not cool.”
“He’s not.” She finally raised her gaze to his face. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, here.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
She took a sip from her water glass. “Why have you suddenly decided to become all chatty right now?”
He picked up his fork and ate more of the creamy chicken and mashed potato. He felt better than he had in days, and if he could somehow help the woman who’d stepped up for him, he’d do it.
“Do you need me to come and talk to your son?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” She frowned. “My brother and my father live right next door. Mikey’s got plenty of good male role models in his life already.”
“Maybe he needs to hear from someone who’s not so nice,” Conner said.
“Like you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes boys need to hear things differently for them to get through.”
“So, you’d what . . . beat the shit out of him because he’s disrespecting his mother’s cooking?” She wasn’t smiling now. “Like I need another man offering him violence. Why do you think I left his father in the first place?”
“Ah, right. Got it.” After a stunned moment Conner nodded like the fool he was. “It still doesn’t explain why you won’t confront him.”
She stared at him for so long that he almost forgot how to breathe.
“Mikey looks like his dad.”
“And?”
“He hardly talks to me and I’m reluctant to ask him what’s wrong.”
“Because you’re scared he’s going to react to confrontation like his father did.” Conner made it a statement rather than a question. “If it’s any consolation, I look just like my dad and he never believed in sparing the rod. I promised myself I would never, ever be like him.”
She nodded but didn’t speak, her gray gaze fixed on his face.
“Have you asked Mikey how he feels about looking like his dad?”
“Of course I haven’t. What do you think I could say? Like, hey, Mikey, you look just like Sean, how violent are you feeling today?” Beth snorted. “He’s a teenager. I can’t even ask him what kind of cheese he wants in his sandwich without worrying how he’s going to answer me right now.”
Conner finished his glass of water. “Maybe you guys need some kind of therapy or something, because this doesn’t sound healthy.”
“You think?” She glared at him. “We’ve been to therapy.”
“Then you should keep going.” Conner wasn’t backing down. “It did me the world of good.”
“So good that you drift around the country taking seasonal jobs and hide up here in a cabin all summer?”
“Wow.” He opened his eyes wide at her. “Did I hit a nerve or something?”
“I think I liked you more when you didn’t talk,” she muttered. “Would you like some more chicken?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Aware that he’d pushed way too many of her buttons for one evening, Conner offered to help clear up. She waved him away like the nuisance he was and banged around in the kitchen for a while, which he hoped helped her release some of her feelings. Eventually, he got into bed and sat back against the stack of pillows that now smelled like a spring meadow rather than him.
So, Beth’s ex-husband was the jerk who’d hurt her.
Conner’s hands flexed into fists as he fondly imagined meeting the asshole in a dark alley somewhere and making him beg for mercy. Yeah, he knew violence wasn’t the answer, but sometimes it was the only way to get your point across. He wasn’t naïve. He knew how to kill in a thousand different ways and had the nightmares to prove it.
“Would you like another drink?” Beth called out to him from the kitchen.
“Not unless you want me waking you up to go to the bathroom at the ass