anywhere we need to go with what I’ve got. Why waste more money on another vehicle?”
“What if you want to take someone out?”
“My bike seats two.”
“How about a little someone?” She gives Millie a pointed look.
I almost snort. As if this woman would ever trust me alone with her kid, on purpose. “That’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t anticipate the situation presenting itself.”
“Humor me.” The tone she uses has a seductive twinkle on the end. That silky note fuses a spark under my skin.
My molars clack together. “I’m sure walking would be a viable option.”
“And if it’s too far?”
“Then we’ll stay in.”
Keegan taps her chin. “See? These are things you have to think about.”
“Yeah, for you as a parent. Those concerns don’t apply to me.”
“For now.”
“And the foreseeable future.”
She frowns at me. “You don’t want children?”
“Didn’t say that. I’ve very recently decided to start making friends. Opening myself to the possibility of more is intimidating as fu—fun. Kids are a long way down the road after that.”
Keegan seems to ponder that, allowing the silence to stretch between us until I’m ready to fill the gaps. She finally puts me out of my misery with a tempered, “I see. That makes sense. So, isn’t this weird?”
I scan the bustling space, but the rush of voices doesn’t penetrate our bubble. “Only at first. I’m getting used to all the traffic.”
“No, I meant hanging out with Millie and me.”
“Why would this be weird? I’m very comfortable with you two.”
“There has to be better options for a single guy such as yourself.”
“Quit selling yourself short. I’m where I want to be. Millie is an extension of your best qualities. We both know I like you, perhaps more parts than others. But that’s only because I’ve been properly acquainted.” I run a hungry gaze along the low-cut neckline of her shirt. “Maybe intimately is a better word choice.”
Keegan buries her face in a curled palm. “Please watch your language. You’re worse than Josey.”
“What did I say?”
“You know exactly what’s being implied.”
I nod at Millie. “But does she?”
She glances at her daughter, who’s busy telling our dogs a story. Patch and Elsa are taking turns getting brushed, one stroke each, with a pink brush Millie pulled from her little purse. Not the most efficient grooming method, but I don’t see anyone complaining. Keegan twists her lips to the side. “I just don’t get it.”
“That’s your problem to solve. I’m having a great morning. You’re the one who needs to relax.”
“Me?” Her voice rises with outrage. “I’m fine.”
I grunt into my nearly drained mug. “I think we already established that I know fine does not mean fine.”
Millie pops out from under the table. “Mama, I already told you. Ford gets it.”
I furrow my brow at the little girl. “Did I miss something?”
Keegan flutters a hand toward Millie, cupping her cheek in a comforting gesture. “She says you understand why she doesn’t talk to most people. She stands up for you at every turn.”
A shooting pain slices into the center of my chest. I suck in a sharp breath, choking on the ball in my throat. People have always let me down. Everyone except these two. “Thank you.”
Millie beams at me. “You’re welcome. We gotta stick together, right?”
I blow out a heavy exhale, loosening the tangle in my gut. “Absolutely.”
Keegan points at my empty cup. “Had enough?”
That’s a loaded question. I rub my temple as thoughts swirl into a complex jumble. “Yeah, I’m done.”
She smiles at me, soft and warm and melting the bitter cold buried inside of me. “Let us give you a ride home.”
“Nah, that’s not necessary. My shop is out of your way. I don’t want to impose.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” A tinkling laugh bounces out of her. “Since when?”
I motion between us. “This is voluntary.”
Her shoulders shake as she reels in the humor. “I’m well aware. So is my offer to drive you.”
“You’d be forced into spending more time with me.”
“Don’t read so much into a simple gesture.” Keegan winks at me.
“You’re confusing.”
“And you’d be doing me favor. Thinking of you running another seven miles today is bad for my health.”
“Well, in that case—” I give her a wink of my own. “I’ll call shotgun.”
Healing Hug #19: A cure for when the chill is bone-deep.
The crunch of fallen leaves crackles underneath my flimsy flip-flops. Millie tightens her grip on my hand as Crawford guides us deeper into the woods. That’s what I’m assuming, at least. My eyesight is currently compromised by a