suggested they bake them on their return from the library because Mommy loves milk and cookies.
Given Mommy’s penchant for beer, Cole suspected it was Finn who loved milk and cookies, but apparently there was a secret family recipe, and Finn thought a floor picnic in the red sitting room sounded fun. Because, also apparently, picnics were a favorite Jane thing.
Along with needle-nose pliers, prickles, and stealth make-out sessions.
Unsurprisingly, Finn didn’t know the secret family recipe, but fortunately the great God Google knew about a million. Cole soon found one that matched the ingredients in the pantry, and, an hour later, with the kitchen smelling divine, they were all set.
“Okay.” Cole lifted the tray. “You got the blanket?” Finn nodded enthusiastically, holding it up. It was actually an old round tablecloth they’d found in one of the drawers, but it was good enough. “Got my cane?”
Finn dutifully brandished it as Carl balanced on his shoulder, displaying his full, vibrant colors. Up until Credence, Cole had never even seen a chameleon in real life, and he had woken three times now to the Houdini reptile staring him in the face.
“Let’s go, then.”
Cole had no idea how they were going to be received. Jane had made it pretty clear by her hasty scramble from the kitchen this morning that she wasn’t keen on his company, and he knew she was operating on a strict schedule to get the job finished on time, but surely she could put down her tools for fifteen minutes. She probably hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The kitchen appeared untouched from when they’d departed this morning, and the woman had to eat, right?
“Mommy’s going to love it, Cole.”
Finn grinned so big it sucker punched Cole right in the chest. The boy was such a sweet kid and clearly besotted with his mother. Cole remembered how much he’d adored his mother at Finn’s age, knowing even then that she was doing her best and trying to please her, to make things just a little bit easier for her when he could.
Sure, he’d been a live wire and had gone through a period of rebellion in his teenage years, not long after his father had left for good, but never more than she’d been able to handle. Life had not been kind to his mother, but she’d never made him feel anything other than loved.
The sounds of Pink singing one of her hits grew louder as Cole slowly approached the red sitting room. He needed two hands for the tray, so he was walking tentatively without the aid of his stick. Finn was using it instead, even though it was almost as tall as him. Needless to say, he wasn’t making a lot of headway, and Cole laughed and shook his head. Between his hindered gait and Carl perched on his shoulder like a bloody parrot, he looked like a miniature drunken pirate.
Reaching the open doorway, Cole paused for Finn to catch up. Jane had her back to him, kneeling on her kneepads, hunched over the floor, prying a tile loose. The room was almost half done, now, and he was impressed with her progress, but that position could not be good for anyone’s posture. Her back and knees and neck must ache like crazy at the end of the day, yet he’d not heard her grumble or seen her stretching out her muscles or rubbing at her neck.
He could rub her neck. He could rub her wherever she wanted…
“Mommy!”
Cole started guiltily at the voice, having temporarily forgotten that Finn—Jane’s kid—was with him. Jane, who he was picturing stretched out on a massage table, glistening in oil as he rubbed her down.
Jesus. What was wrong with him? He was probably going to hell for mentally debauching a mother with her four-year-old son right beside him. MILF hell. Where you could look but never, ever touch for all fucking eternity.
Jane glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Knock, knock,” Cole said, indicating the tray as he hoped like hell the desire running hot through his veins was not reflected on his face. Or behind the zipper of his jeans. “Finn thought you might like some milk and cookies.”
Jane tapped a button on her nearby phone screen, and the music cut out as she sat back on her haunches, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Her gaze fleetingly captured his before she turned her attention to Finn. “I was just thinking that’s exactly what I want,” she said with a grin. “I’m