Page 10 of Mister Mom

“I’m a good guesser.”

“He has friends, too. One can fly and the other can swing from webs.”

“Does he love pizza?”

“Yeah.” There’s surprise in his tone once more.

“Does he live in the sewer?”

He laughs. “No, he lives with me.”

“To protect you?” I lean against the railing of the stairway, propping my knees up, trying to reach the small amount of shade the trailer leaves me.

“Yeah.” His voice shrinks and I’m glad to hear the calm back in his voice.

“Who are you?” a female voice snaps from the other direction.

I whip my head around.

The boy might be calm, but his mom sure as hell isn’t.

I swear she’s heaving for breath like she’s about to breathe fire and if I concentrated hard I bet I’d hear the echo of her beating heart. Quickly, I stand, running my hands down the length of my slacks.

“Hey, I’m Vance Rose. I believe you spoke to Jagger Kale?” I shove my hands in my pockets to not reach out and touch her.

The sun gleams off the highlights in her auburn hair and it looks as if glitter is sprinkling down from the sky and onto her. Now, I’m no poet, nor a romantic on any front, but I can’t deny that this woman is ten times more stunning in person than she is in her movies. Her figure is slender with the perfect ratio of hips to chest and her bright green eyes leave nothing to guesswork—everything she’s feeling is right there on display.

Immediately, guilt causes my stomach to clench because I was the reason she was sent packing, especially the why of it all.

I study her face for any form of recognition as to who I am. There’s no way for her to know me by my real name, but I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.

She steps past me onto the stairs of the trailer.

“I heard you had a script?” Her voice is clipped and she barely offers me a passing glance as she opens the trailer door.

“Yes, the investor loves your work and wants you to sign on.” I move to follow but the door slams in my face.

What’s with this family?

“Payne!” she yells.

“Mommy!”

I turn the knob and peek my head in. The kid’s now smiling face tells me my chances are good I won’t be risking a concussion a third time.

“Where’s Mary?” she asks her son while disposing of her bag on the floor. Payne picks up a nearby sword and runs toward me.

I pick him up under his arms and fly him around the room, effectively dodging his aim.

“She left,” Payne says when I set him down. He continues trying to stab me with his play sword as I sidestep a couple of jabs.

“Was that the nanny?” I ask.

She narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t answer.

Seriously, this chick’s got an attitude usually earned by the forty-plus crowd of female actors who are past their heyday and can’t find any more good roles to play.

“Let me guess.” Her gaze moves from me to Payne. “What did you do?” Her hands land on her thin hips, her red lips puckered in the direction of the now innocent-looking little boy.

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