mother with a small child—surely she was exhausted enough? His mother had been constantly tired from his boundless energy and no one with whom to share the load.
“So…what? You’re going to watch copious amounts of sports, drink beer, and hop him up on juice and Pop-Tarts?”
“Of course not.” Not all the time, anyway.
“Kids need to be active, Cole.” Her lips formed a disapproving little moue again. “Especially someone like Finn. He needs exercise. He needs to be stimulated.”
“Of course.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Exercise, check. Stimulated, check.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
“We’ll go on walks every day. I need to do that for my hip, anyway.” She glanced at his hip, and Cole swore he could feel a surge of warmth to the damaged joint, easing the almost-constant ache. “We can go to the park,” he continued. “And we’ll take his bug catcher and catch crickets for Carl. And I think there’s a library somewhere, too.”
“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms, her beer bottle clasped firmly in one hand. “And how do you walk with a child?”
Cole frowned. Was this some kind of trick question? “One foot…in front of…the other?”
She gave an annoyed little shake of her head, her ponytail swishing against her nape. He wondered what she’d do if he leaned in and pressed a kiss right there, but then he realized she was talking and he’d better not miss a word. She was all schoolmistress again, and he already knew she didn’t suffer fools gladly.
“You walk on the outside so you’re closest to the traffic.”
Okay, that made sense. “Fine, I’ll walk on the outside.”
“And he needs to hold your hand. He won’t want you to, because he’ll insist he’s a big boy, but he has more energy than sense sometimes and forgets frequently that he has to stay close, because he has the memory of a goldfish, and he’ll just take off on you without giving any thought to the consequences.”
“I’ll hold his hand.”
“And don’t let him lick the paint on the fence railings.”
Cole blinked. “He licks paint?” What the fuck? “Why does he lick paint?”
“I don’t know.” She bugged her eyes at him. “He’s a boy; you tell me. Because it’s there?” She sighed. “I think because so much of it is peeling off everywhere and it looks like snowflakes.”
“Okay.” Cole held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll keep him away from the railings.”
“I know that makes me sound like some pathetic helicopter mom, but I have no idea how old it is.” Her voice softened, and her cheeks looked a little pink as she justified her strange request. “There could be lead in it.”
“Okay, okay.” He nodded. That made sense. “No paint licking. I promise.”
She also nodded, her arms dropping out of their fold as she took another mouthful of her drink. “And what else would you do?” she prompted as she rested the beer against her knee. “How does a thirty-two-year old ex–rugby professional with no children keep a four-year-old entertained without the use of television and junk food?”
Cole probably shouldn’t be flattered that she knew stuff about him he hadn’t divulged, but he was. He sat back a little, smiling at her. “You googled me?”
“You’re living under the same roof as my son. Of course I googled you.”
If that was meant to deflate his ego, it didn’t. She’d googled him. He grinned bigger, and she rolled her eyes. “Well?” she prompted.
Oh yes…entertainment. Stimulation. “I don’t know. But I have the whole damn internet in my pocket.” He pulled out his phone and waved it around a bit. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” She regarded his phone disparagingly. “Look, Jane… I’m just trying to help here.”
“Why? Why would you offer to do this? We’ve known each other for less than a week, and you’re volunteering to be the manny.”
Manny? He grimaced at the term—they’d have to work on a new word for it, but that was secondary right now. “Because…Finn’s a good kid, and I’m not doing anything, and because…my mum did everything solo, too, and she’d have killed for a bit of help.”
“Your parents were divorced?”
“Officially, no. My dad was around. Every now and then. But not particularly helpful when he did deign to grace us with his presence. So I…understand a little of what you’re going through, that’s all.”
She regarded him for long moments. “Well…thank you. But still…looking after someone else’s kid is a big ask. I have friends I wouldn’t ask. I couldn’t ask it of you.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“Cole.” She