Page 186 of Moon's Promise

“Everything is fine. Moon is a wonderful father. I’ll see you in the morning. Text me if you meet anyone interesting.”

“You know I won’t.” Her mother gave a mock shudder. “Why is it when people try to set me up, it’s with men who have one foot in the grave or have dementia?”

“I don’t know, possibly because they aren’t aware you’re a cougar?”

“How many times have I told you I dislike that term?”

“How many men your own age have you dated since Dad died?”

The look her mother gave her had her deciding to make good on her escape.

She picked up Jace from his crib and carried him to the rocking chair. Sitting down, she unbuttoned her top and unsnapped her maternity bra. She used a cleansing cloth to clean her nipple then settled him against her chest as she started rocking the chair.

She had switched Jace to her other breast when she heard Moon walk in the door. Usually, she called out to him when he came in. Tonight, she remained silent, gently rocking the chair.

Staring at her son, she thought how much he looked like his father. He was a little carbon copy of the man standing in the doorway, watching them.

“Is Jace asleep?” Moon whispered.

“No, he’s wide awake.” Using her knuckles, she rubbed the soft skin of his cheek. “He finished. Would you mind burping him so I can take a shower?”

Moon came forward to take the baby from her arms. She was aware of his eyes dropping to her uncovered breasts. Raising her hands, she pulled the two sides of her top closed over her breasts as she got up from the chair.

“Dinner is in the oven, if you’re hungry. You don’t have to wait for me.”

As she passed Moon, she kept her face averted from him.

“How was your day?” he asked as she was about to walk into the bedroom.

“Good.” Usually, she would ask how his day had been. Today, she went into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

She took her time showering and only dried off when couldn’t postpone getting out any longer. No longer having the desire to wear the new dress she had bought, she pulled out a pair of buttery soft jeans and slipped on a wine-colored crisscross top that tied at the waist. Then she padded barefoot down the hall to the living room. Moon was sitting on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table, Jace wiggling on his lap.

“He’s getting bigger every day.”

Moon might not love her, but it was obvious he loved his son.

“Yes, he is,” she agreed on her way to the kitchen to take the lasagna out of the oven.

When he saw she was setting the food on the table, Moon placed Jace down in the small portable crib they kept in the living room, then wheeled the crib to the table and sat down.

Placing the bread on the table, she took the chair opposite of his. She served him a generous mound of lasagna before she gave herself a smaller portion. She did the same with the bread.

“You’re not hungry?” he questioned.

“Not very.”

Lasagna was her favorite, but tonight, her stomach was too twisted in knots to have much of an appetite.

After taking a small bite of the gooey pasta, she lifted her head. “You have a good day at the factory?”

Moon’s head swiveled from the baby to her. “It was slow.”

“Hmm,” she said, taking another bite of the lasagna. “The day must have dragged on for you, then.”

“It was pretty boring.” Tearing his bread into a small chunks, he placed a piece in his mouth.

“Really?” Reaching for her glass, she took a drink of water. “You didn’t seem bored to me when I saw you riding by with a woman on your motorcycle.”

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