Page 37 of Mismatched Mates

Brandon just rolled his eyes. “Mom.”

“I’m serious.” We pulled up on the driveway and I put the car in park. “Okay, you know the rules. Get changed and put your gym stuff in the laundry basket andthenwe can talk about pizza.”

They slammed the doors as they raced inside, too-big bags bouncing on their backs as they yelled encouragement at each other, turning the simple chore into a race.

I dipped my head into my hands for a moment. Disaster averted—the title of Worst Mom Ever hadn’t been handed to me along with a crown of thorns—but even now, even when I still churned with guilt about forgetting to pick up the boys, Grant was still in the back of my head.

The white scar across his lips. The mischievous glint in his eyes.

The way he’d come to my rescue and protected me from his family’s barbs. The way he’d stepped up at the charity event even when that wasn’t part of our deal.Just because.

I felt as though I was losing my mind, that tug in my stomach still urging me toward him even though we hadn’t spoken or texted since the event. Not once.

“Mom,” Lance yelled from their bedroom window. “Comeon. I want pizza.”

I shook myself out of my daze. “Coming!” I swore to myself I was going to put Grant out of my mind, at least for the evening, but I knew it was going to be impossible.

Three days later, I sat at my kitchen table, staring at a to-do list that seemed to mock me with its unfinished tasks. A half-empty mug of coffee sat by my elbow, long since gone cold. I tapped my pen against the paper, my mind refusing to focus on the mundane tasks before me.

The itch hadn’t gone away. If anything, it only got stronger, and by Friday, I was about ready to throw in the towel. Call him, ask him to come over, just break the silence that was eating away into my peace.

As it happened, however, I didn’t have to. My phone buzzed and my heart leapt when I saw the name on the screen.

Grant:Look outside.

For three full seconds, I didn’t move, waiting for the surge of happiness from a simple text to subside. Then, phone clutched in my hand, I pushed back from the table and headed to the long window by the front door.

Grant stood next to a red sports car that looked alarmingly like a Maserati, with flowers in his hands. A red car with matching red roses. I guess it was just another vehicle owned by the family, who seemed to have more cars than most people have shirts.

It felt as though my entire body was shaking as I unlatched the door and opened it. “What are you doing here?” was the best I could manage.

“Not the best way to greet your boyfriend.” He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. “Sorry if this is a bad time. I tried to time it with your lunch hour.”

“I—” I’d forgotten to eat lunch, so wrapped up with what was going on in my head and heart that I’d forgotten my stomach might need some attention.

Something else that was new for me.Usually, I never forgot to eat. My lunch hours were an important part of every day. A healthy body equaled a healthy mind.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure.” I stepped aside, doing my best to ignore my body’s urge to touch him on his way past, to lay my hands on him to reassure myself that he was real. “I mean it, though. You never said that you were coming.”

He offered me the flowers with his best impression of a rueful expression. “It was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Honestly, I missed you.” He let the thought sit for a moment. “And I justified it to myself by thinking that it would be a goodthing if people saw me going to your house in between now and the wedding.”

I missed you.

That was the feeling in my chest, the one I’d never really had with Jason despite the ten long years of marriage. I’dmissedhim.

He frowned as he stroked my face. “Is everything okay?”

No. I’ve been going half out of my mind thinking about you. And I’m freaking out about what that might mean for the long term.

“Still no word from Jason on the lawsuit,” I said instead. “But no news is good news right?”

“I told you it was taken care of,” he murmured, eyes darkening. “Want me to pay him another visit?”

“What? No. I want to forget he exists.”

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