For the second time in three days, I am rendered speechless. My head is reeling at the sight of little Zander slowly reaching out and placing his hand to shake the hand of the man next to me.

I watch the first steps of a little boy breaking free from the devastating grasp of a violent trauma. His first time initiating physical contact with someone in over three months.

Colton holds Zander’s small hand in his, shaking it gently. When they finish their greeting, Zander keeps his hand there with no indication that he wants to move it. Colton obliges and just holds the tiny hand, a soft smile on his face.

Tears burn as I hold them back. I want to jump up and shout in excitement at this breakthrough. I want to grab Zander and hug him and tell him how proud I am of him. I do none of these for the power of this moment is so much greater than any of these things put together.

“I’ll tell you what, Zander, if Rylee here agrees to the date with me that she’s trying to get out of,” Colton says never breaking eye contact with him, “then I’ll take you as my personal guest to the track the next time we test. How’s that?”

A ghost of a smile returns to Zander’s lips, his eyes lighting up for the first time, as he nods his head yes.

I hold my hand over my heart to press on the ache there as joy races through me. Finally! And all because Colton followed me in the house. All because he didn’t listen to me. All because he’s using one of my kids to blackmail me into going out with him. I could kiss him right now! Well, I guess I’ve already done that, but I could do it again. At this point, I’ll do anything Colton asks me to do just to see the smile on Zander’s face again.

Colton squeezes Zander’s hand again and shakes it. “It’s a deal then, buddy.” He releases his hand and leans in closer, “I promise,” he whispers.

Zander’s lips curve into a smile. Small dimples form in his cheeks. Dimples I didn’t even know he had because I’ve never seen him smile. He slowly withdraws his hand from Colton’s, but continues to look at him expectantly, as if to ask when this will take place. Colton glances over at me for help, and I step up.

“Zander, sweetie?” He moves his eyes from Colton’s and looks over to me. “Colton and I are going to go over and sit in the kitchen and plan a time, would you like to join us or would you like to go finish watching the basketball game with the boys?” I ask softly, my voice petting him gently as I would a scared animal.

Zander’s eyes glance rapidly back and forth over the both of us before Colton interrupts, “Hey, buddy, I’m gonna stay right here in the kitchen for a couple of minutes with Rylee. Can you go watch the game for me to let me know what I’ve missed when we’re done?”

Zander nods slightly, locking eyes with Colton once again gauging if he’s sincere or not. He must believe him because he clenches his stuffed doggy tighter and heads back to the couch. Shane’s eyes catch mine, his face blanketed with disbelief before he picks up the remote and turns the sound back up.

I rise from the floor, noticing that all of the boys except Zander have their attention still focused on Colton for it’s not every day that a celebrity is in our house. Colton notices the pairs of eyes on him and gives them a heartfelt smile. “Don’t worry,” he says to them shaking his head in understanding of their awestruck looks, “you can all come too when I take Zander to the track.”

A large cacophony of whoops ring out as excitement electrifies the boys. “Okay, okay,” I placate. “You guys got what you wanted, please turn around and pay attention to the game so that Colton and I can discuss some matters.”

They obey for the most part with several furtive glances our way as we move to the barstools in the kitchen. I offer Colton a seat, and I walk around the island so that I can face him. I notice Shane still observing us though, a protective look on his face, wondering why Colton has upset me.

For the myriad of emotions that Colton has made me feel in the week’s time I’ve known him, the gratitude I have for him at this moment trumps them all.

I look up at him and meet his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears from filling mine.

“Thank you.” I whisper. It’s only two words, but the look on his face tells me that he understands how much is behind them.

He nods, “It’s the least I can do,” his voice gruff when he responds. “We all have our stories.” He offers as his way of understanding the magnitude of what has happened before looking down at his folded hands, more to himself than to me.

“You got that right,” I say still overwhelmed by the situation. I look over to Zander and smile. He did it. He really did it today. He took a step out from under the fog. And suddenly I feel elated with hope. I feel impulsive from the possibilities.

“Colton!” I jolt him out of his thoughts. He whips his head up, startled at my urgency in calling his name. I know I will regret this later, but I decide to go with my instinct. I decide to be impulsive and act in the moment. “I’m off in ten minutes,” I say and he looks at me as if he is not following my train of thought, so I continue, “I owe you a date, so let’s go on a date.”

He shakes his head as if trying to make sure I said the words he heard. “Oh— okay,” he stumbles, and I love the fact that I’ve taken him by surprise. He starts to rise, the corners of his lips curving. “I don’t have any reservations or—”

“Who cares?” I motion with my hands, “I’m not high maintenance. Simplicity is rewarding. I’m good with a burger or anything really.” I watch his eyes widen in disbelief. “Besides, you paid enough for the date, who needs to drop a bunch of money on food that we eat anyway?”

He stares at me for a beat, and I sense that he is trying to figure out if I’m being serious or not. When I just look at him like he’s being dense, he continues. “You are incredible. You know that right?” His simple words go straight to my heart for the incredulity in his voice tells me he is sincere.

I flash a grin over my shoulder as I head for my quarters to grab my things and freshen up. “I’ll be right back.”

I return in moments to find Mike staring awestruck, shaking Colton’s hand in the kitchen. Colton turns to me when he hears me, “You ready?” he asks.

I hold up my finger indicating one second. “I’m outta here,” I announce to the boys as they rise from their various locations and come and give me hugs goodbye. I think the presence of Colton and my acquaintance with him has all of the sudden has elevated me to rock-star status with them by the way they are hugging me tightly.

As I’m receiving my hugs, I notice Colton walk over to the couch and squat down on his haunches in front of Zander. He says something to him but I’m unsure what it is.


CHAPTER 8


As Colton and I stroll out of the house, an odd feeling of calm settles over me. I think this may be the best approach for a date with Colton. Unexpectedly, I’ve caught him off guard so that he can’t do any extensive planning. Extensive planning might equal overstated indulgences and premeditated seduction. Two things that I definitely do not need. It’s hard enough to resist him as it is.

“We’ll take my car,” he says placing a hand on my back, the warmth of his hand there comforting, as he steers me toward a sleek, carbon-black convertible parked at the curb. The Aston Martin is beautiful and looks as if it is meticulously taken care of. It looks like it can really fly and for just an instant, I imagine getting behind the wheel, flooring the pedal, and leaving all my ghosts behind.

“Nice ride,” I grant him, although I try not to show any interest. I’m sure he’s used to women fawning all over him and his car. Not me. Let the games begin, I think.

“Thanks.” He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide onto the black leather, admiring the crafted interior and complete opulence. “I thought it was beautiful day to drive with the top down,” he says rounding the back of the car and sliding in next to me. “I just didn’t realize I was also going to be taking you out in it, too. An added bonus!” He admits, giving me a megawatt grin as he puts on his sunglasses.

I can’t help but give him a smile back as his is infectious. “Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned pickup trucks?” I ask as he leans forward, opening the glove box in front of me, brushing his arm across my thigh and laughing loudly at my comment. His touch is electrifying, even when it is accidental. He pulls out a worn, molded baseball hat with “Firestone” emblazoned across the bridge and puts it on his head, his dark hair curling out from under it at the nape of his neck. He pulls the brim down low enough to touch his sunglasses.

I guess this is his “incognito” look, but all I can think is he looks sexy as hell. All smoldering, edgy bad boy wrapped up in a drool-worthy body. I’m seriously fucked here if I actually think that my willpower will prevent me from giving in to any request from him. He reaches over and gives my thigh a quick squeeze before pressing a button on the dash in the center console.

“Don’t worry, I have a truck too,” he chuckles before the car roars to life, the vibration of the engine reverberating through my body and sending a thrill through me. “Hold on!” he says as he zooms out of the neighborhood, the excited look of a little boy on his face.

Boys and their toys, I think as I watch him from behind my aviators. I shouldn’t be surprised at his skill maneuvering the car for this is how he makes his living, but I am. I shouldn’t be turned on by his complete competence either, as he weaves smoothly in and out of traffic, the car accelerating quickly, but I find myself wanting to reach out and touch him. Connect with him despite knowing that’s a dangerous line for me to cross for my own sake.