Page 52 of Saddle Storm

“Hey,” he says. “You going to let me in or just stare at me?”

My shoulders fall. “What are you doing here?”

Before he can answer, a body half my size barrels beside me. “Silas!”

He grins down at my kid like this is the most natural thing in the world. “Hey, buddy. Am I just in time for dinner?”

My chest is tight but it’s the bubbling in my stomach that bothers me. “Come in,” I offer, stepping back, if only so none of the neighbors catch him in the hall.

He steps in and I’m suddenly too aware of the peeling paint throughout the apartment.

He glances at me as he passes—like we share some secret since our kiss the other day.

He sets the bag on the counter and finally answers my question. “My brothers are driving me crazy. So I thought I’d come hang out with my new favorite people.” He flips over to the simmering pot of water with nothing in it and turns off the stove.

“No,” I cry. “I just got that working.”

He flips back to the bag like he’s not surprised and unloads Chinese food cartons. “Got a little bit of everything, figured you can’t go wrong with the specials.” I catch him winking at Max as he passes him a carton. “This was always my favorite when I was a kid.”

Max opens up the carton and the smell of orange chicken fills the room, his eyes lighting. But then my darling kid looks at me with guilt. “Mom, can I have this with your pasta?”

I glance at the useless stove. “I’m not goin’ to war with that thing again. Just eat the chicken.”

I turn to our guest, keeping my tone low and even. “Silas, you can’t keep dropping by unannounced.”

“Then give me your phone number.” He grins and I’m instantly annoyed. My heartrate kicking up because I’m losing count of how many times Silas has shown up, giving Max expectations he shouldn’t have.

I step close, lifting my chin. “Why don’t I give you my boot up your ass.”

He holds up a finger, unphased. “Although that does sound fun, but not in front of the kid.”

He’s got a point. This will have to wait until after dinner.

After a long—and albeit, delicious dinner—I settle Max into my bedroom. It was already an hour past his regular bedtime by the time we finished and he was wiped.

When I step out, the apartment feels quieter than it has all night. The kind of quiet I enjoy after Max is asleep. But now it just means it’s time to tell the man I’ve waited for half my life—to stop coming around.

Silas is on my couch. The sling is off and he’s flexing his arm like it might be some PT regime. He looks large for the space, his long legs stretched out, knees reaching the wooden coffee table. He appears relaxed otherwise, like there hasn’t been tension between us since he walked through that door. The overhead light is off, leaving only the lamp by the window on, casting him in soft shadow.

He’s so solid, broad, athletically built. Unhelpfully reminding me of his hands in my hair yesterday, gripping my wrists together as he kissed me possessively. The way he cradled the back of my head like it was the most natural thing in the world—to hold me like that.

He looks over when he hears me, and something warm flickers across his face. Familiar. Easy. He leans forward, inviting me closer. When I don’t, and stay by the hallway instead, he stands, moving toward me.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say first, because it wasn’t only amazing, it was helpful in a way he couldn’t possibly know. “And for staying.” I bite my bottom lip, drawing his attention to it. “We need to talk.”

“You’re welcome,” he rubs his hands together. “But if I’m honest, I didn’t just come to have dinner with you tonight.”

My eyes flash and heat creeps to my cheeks.

He smirks, like he understands what I’m thinking. “I need to talk to you about something too.”

I frown. “Oh. Okay. But I need to go first.”

He nods.

I suck in a breath and turn toward the kitchen. “You . . . can’t keep coming around like this. I appreciate what you’re doing, and I like that we’re . . . friends again.” I turn, finding his blue eyes once more. They’re not judging or even confused. Just hearing me out. “But . . . Max is at an age where he’s not going to understand when you go back to Denver and get back to your life.”

His jaw tightens as he considers what I’m saying.