Page 34 of Centering Kaos

Her expression went all soft. “That is adorable,” she said, pointing at me.

“What?”

“That thing your face does when you talk about him. You called him an asshole, but you like the kid.”

“Heisan asshole,” I defended. “Way too smart for his own good, but he’s also a great kid.”

“I don’t doubt it.” She pushed the rest of her sandwich aside and took another sip of wine. “I like Tina. She’s… she’s a good person. She has a work ethic and morals and shit. Insisted on helping me even though I tried to explain that this is my job. The woman isn’t looking for a free ride. When we went grocery shopping, I thought I was going to have to throw down to keep her from paying. Luckily, I snagged a few bottles of wine I figured were well out of her price range. She had no choice but to let me flash your credit card.”

I grinned. “That’s dirty.” And I was glad Carisa had done it. Since Tina wasn’t working, she needed to keep whatever money she had.

“Sure is.” Carisa sounded proud of herself. “Tina’s a little uptight, but I’m betting that has to do with her ex. It’s clear there’s sparks pingin’ between you two, so what’s the problem? Why haven’t you made a move?”

“One does not make moves on single moms.” I finished off my water and stood, taking my wrapper to the trash.

Sliding her elbows onto the counter, she laced her fingers, plopped her chin on top of them, and stared at me. “Why? You don’t think single moms need love, too?”

It felt like a loaded question. Wondering what kind of trap she was setting for me, I replied, “Single moms don’t need casual.”

“Oh.” Her nod was exaggerated. “So, you’re an expert on the sexual needs of women. I get it now. Please… mansplain away to me.”

Yep. I’d walked right into that one. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Good, because I’d imagine being a single mom would be really lonely. Having a kid doesn’t magically erase a woman’s desire to be wanted. It doesn’t rip away her sex drive. Besides, who says it has to be casual? You like her and her kid. If things go well between the sheets, this could be an actual relationship.”

There was no universe in which I wanted to discuss sex drives and relationships with my cousin. I needed to turn this ship around. Quickly. “I’ve only known her about five minutes.”

“Yet she and her son are staying here,” she fired back. “In your house.”

“They had nowhere else to go.”

She eyed me. “King County has more than ten-thousand homeless people.” She swirled the remaining swallow of wine around in her glass before downing it. “Bet some are moms with kids who are also out of options. Strange how you never brought any of them home.”

I let out a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Yep. Relationships always are.” She rose, wrapped the rest of her gyro up and put it in the fridge.

“He beat her,” I said, hating the way the words tasted in my mouth.

Carisa spun around, her brow furrowed in concern. “The bruises… on her neck. He did that?”

I nodded. “But that’s nuthin.’ I saw pictures. The fucker did a lot worse. It was bad. Really fuckin’ bad.”

She closed the fridge, leaning against the door, and let out a breath. “Well, shit. You’re probably right to take things slow then.”

My eyebrows shot up. “I’m right?” None of the women in my family had ever made such a crazy announcement. “That’s a first. Shouldn’t there be balloons and streamers and shit?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s not get crazy, I saidprobablyright. Only time will tell.” She moseyed over to the sink, rinsed out her wine glass, and set it in the dishwasher. Pushing off the counter, she headed toward the living room like our conversation was over. But as she reached the doorway, she spun around to frown at me thoughtfully. “You’re a good man, cuz. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

Carisa and I gave each other non-stop shit. I was used to her throwing insults or backhanded compliments my way, so I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Be careful. Hurt people can reallyhurtpeople,” she said, her eyebrows dropping in thought. “But don’t forget that healed people can alsohealpeople. You’ve gotten over a lot of shit in your lifetime. If I live to be a hundred, I swear I’ll never understand your reason for joining the military—and then a biker gang—but it’s clear it was all part of your healing process. You’re less… self-absorbed now.”

“A biker club,” I corrected. “And gee, thanks.”

She snorted. “Whatever. Regardless, you’re still far from perfect, but who knows? Maybe the shit you’ve been through uniquely qualifies you to help Tina and Dylan out.”

I frowned, letting her words sink in. “Like a friend.”

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