Page 41 of Lace 'em Up

But this is so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

It’s not the bear hugs I used to get from my father.

It’s not what Phillip and I had long before everything went bad.

It’s not what Chrissy and I gave each other when life seemed determined to kick us in the teeth.

It’s not…

Like King’s hold from just moments before.

It’s…a mother’s touch.

Warm and firm, confident and sweet, wrapping me up in a soft floral scent, holding me close as she says, “We’re all family here.” Her arms tighten for a moment before she pulls back enough to smile up at me—up because she’s tiny, even though I’m not tall in any sense of the word. “I’m Stella,” she says, eyes delving into mine. “It’s so nice to meet you Rory.”

“Mom,” King begins, moving toward us. “Want to release Rory for a second so I can explain?—”

Mama Bang’s—er Stella’s—purse starts ringing.

“Oh”—she smiles apologetically—“I’m sorry but that’s the twins. Jakob—King’s brother?—”

I nod, letting her know I’ve got that much.

“—said they would call me when they got home. Will you excuse me for a minute? I can’t miss talking to my grandbabies.”

“Of course,” I tell her.

“Thank you, honey,” she says softly, giving my arm a squeeze before she starts riffling through her purse, pulling out her cell. She swipes across the screen as she reaches the hallway, lifts it to her ear and says, “Hey, baby. I’m glad you called. I just met King’s new girlfriend?—”

My mouth falls open.

King groans from next to me.

“I—” Slowly, I swivel to look at him. “Did she say?—?”

“Yup,” he mutters. “Twice.” He sighs again then turns toward me, takes my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll straighten her out.”

A thought pops into my head—a way to pay him back for being so nice, for holding me when I cried, for rescuing me from the side of the road and from Phillip’s house. A way to thank him for letting me use his guest room and office, a way to make up for being so grumpy and judgy with him and well…nearly destroying his Life Planner.

Something better than Everything cookies.

Something better because his mom’s obsessed with playing matchmaker.

“You don’t have to,” I blurt.

He rocks back on his heels, shakes his head. “What?”

“You don’t have to straighten her out?—”

His brows shoot up, nearly to his hairline.

“We can pretend to—” I swallow hard, trying to not take in the obvious shock in his eyes. If I look too hard I might see that he’s disgusted or upset or furious. “I know she’s been matchmaking hard, and you said the dates she set you up with haven’t gone well, and…” I swallow again. “I’m already here and it might take the pressure off you for a little bit.” I bite my bottom lip then force a smile. “Save your new laptop even if I do threaten your Life Planner.”

That has him unsticking, the shock sliding from his face. “That’s really sweet of you to offer,” he says, shaking his head. “But I can’t possibly ask you to?—”

“You’re not asking,” I say. “I’m offering.” I shrug. “Just think of it as a thank you for your help.”

His expression and tone are extremely gentle. “I don’t need a thank you for helping you, princess.”

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