Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,38

at the shop?”

“Why does there have to be a problem? Can’t I just check in on my mom?” And make random sounds that resemble a struggle. Nothing to see here—move along.

“You can, but you don’t.” She taps her chin.

“Have to change your oil,” I remind her.

She scoffs nice and loud. “Don’t bullshit me. I can see right through you, kiddo.”

I guzzle another swig of beer. “Just having a rough week.”

“Money issues? Are you gambling? I warned you about that.”

I groan. “No, mother. It’s not important. She’s not interested and neither am I.”

Her gasp toes the line with a fatal blow to my resolve. I can almost feel my walls crumbling from the impact. “So, it is a woman. Who is she?”

A slew of curses slam into me and my loose lips. Dammit, there’s no easy way out of this trap I set for myself. “No one. I didn’t mean anything by that. There’s nothing more to say.”

My mom looks far too pleased with herself. The sly grin curling the edges of her mouth make my knees bounce. “You don’t have to tell me more, son. Mother’s intuition. I’ll be here when you’re ready. In the meantime, I can give you some advice. My current beau is very talented—”

I clap my hands over my ears like a scandalized child. “Please don’t.”

Her laugh is over the top. “You are many things, but a prude isn’t one of them.”

I’m certain my eyes are blown wide. “I don’t want to hear about my mom’s private affairs.”

A palm flutters to her chest. “Oh, Ford. You make me sound so classy. I like that. But listen, if you take the time to really get—”

And that’s my cue to get the fuck out of this nightmare. I stand, almost toppling the chair over in my haste. “Nope, nah, not doing this.”

“Wimp,” she mutters.

I bend and place a quick kiss on the crown of her head. “Call me whatever you want. I’m outta here.”

“I expect more details and soon.” Her giggle follows me to the door.

“Good luck with that. There’s no woman and never will be.”

“Oh, Ford. Don’t bother lying to me. I’m certain you’ve already met her.”

I stumble over the rug, narrowly missing a full-on faceplant. Once again, her suspicions are spot on. How the hell do I prove her wrong when she’s exactly right?

Healing Hug #13: When a shoulder to lean on isn’t quite enough.

I ease off the brake so my car can crawl forward a few inches in the drop-off line. These unstructured bouts of time used to be a blessing—a slice of quiet before the chaos is every parent’s dream. But now, as I sit and wait to reach the unloading zone, my idle mind ambles into enemy territory.

There aren’t enough days in a week to move past the destruction known as Crawford Doxe. Each second that ticks by is a curse I can’t escape. My body has become a traitor, demanding actions I refuse to take. Regret has been consuming me, swirling in my belly on a constant basis. But more potent than that is the burning desire for a repeat performance. The latter is what takes all of my energy to stave off.

My good intentions don’t stand a chance against the cravings for Crawford’s wicked smirk and sinful moves. Why does he have to be so incredible in the sack? And stupid-hot? The type of good looks that make women lose touch with reality, their integrity, and common sense. Yeah, he’s beyond a menace. What’s worse than a blob of putty melting in his palm? Whatever it is, that’s me. And I need to stop obsessing over this.

“Mama?”

The twinkling tune knocks me out of my intrusive musings. Crap, I’m busted. These wandering thoughts need to quit. I adjust the rearview mirror to get a full glimpse of Millie. “Yeah, sweetie?”

“You’re frowning again.” She’s wearing one of her own.

I shove the rest of the murky distractions away, pasting on the widest grin and feeling guilty I’ve worried her. “I’m always sad for you to leave me.”

My daughter wrinkles her nose. “There’s something else bothering you.”

No secret there. Double crap. She isn’t aware of my additional interactions with Crawford, obviously, and that’s how this secret scandal shall remain. It would probably break her heart to discover the not-so-shiny knight could hurt her mama’s feelings. I refuse to be the one who reveals his true nature. That doesn’t mean I need to encourage the obsession, though. I’m banking on Crawford fading into the distant past