Page 5 of Taking The Shot

“Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you and think you are amazingly bright, do you know that?” Constance smiled, hugging her. “You and Kayla are my little lights that get me through each day.”

“Mommm…” she protested – but not too hard, which made Constance chuckle with awareness – only to have Kayla drop a can of new potatoes on her foot. Wincing, she saw a tanned hand suddenly appear as she moved to pick up the can.

“Here,” a man said quietly, handing her the can. “It works better in the bag than on the toes.”

“Yes, it does,” Constance replied, accepting the can and quickly turning away. “Thank you.”

“I’m Keith.”

“I’m not interested,” Constance said easily, packing another bag and ignoring the laughter from her daughter nearby, who overheard the brief exchange. “Paige, we’ll leave once our bags are full and we’ve given them out.”

“Would you like help?”

“No. We’ll manage.”

“How’s that been working for you so far?” he asked – and Constance whirled around to look at him, meeting a pair of light golden-brown eyes beneath a pair of dark eyebrows. They were hard eyes, eyes that had seen too much and had been scarred from it, eyes that reminded her of a person who’d nearly been broken yet somehow made it.The hardest metals are forged in the fires of hell,her husband used to say before he died, his pale face wan, his hands trembling as he held hers, giving her a weak smile, and she felt tears sting her eyes at the unexpected memory from two years ago.

“I’m sorry,” the man said softly, almost like he knew or understood. “Life sucks sometimes, so we try to make it better for somebody else because it makes you feel good for about two seconds… and you hang on to those precious two seconds as hard as you can because you’ve got nothing else, right?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head almost like to wake herself up from some spell. “What was your name again?”

“Moron,” he chuckled lightly – and she smiled warily as he held out his hand. “I’m kidding. It’s Keith.”

“Constance,” she replied, shaking his hand and then moving back to the slew of cans before her. “If you want to help pack the bags, that’s fine. We’re all lined up along the tables and…”

“How old are you?” he interrupted suddenly, causing her to start.

“Weirdo,” Paige muttered loudly – and Kayla repeated it. “Weir-yo-man.”

“I’m sorry,” Constance apologized immediately, turning to glare at her daughter, who just shrugged, before she looked at Keith again, who was frowning. “I’m sorry, that’s a very odd question from a stranger that I don’t know.”

“You’re right,” he said grimly, looking away and unfurling a bag, shaking it, before starting to put several cans inside. He grasped another, gave it a shake, and proceeded to put more cans in another. By the time he got to the fifth bag and Constance hadn’t moved, he paused and looked at her. “It was just a question.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Twenty-nine.”

“You look younger, which is why I asked,” he said simply and then pointed at Paige. “But she’s the only reason I asked. You don’t look old enough to have a kid nearly ten.”

“I’m eight… moron.”

“Lovely child at that, too,” he retorted wryly.

“She’s not usually like this.”

“Lucky me.”

“I don’t usually have people talking to me…”

“Again, lucky me…” he replied once more, but this time there was a slight curl to his lip that made her realize he was joking. “C’mon,” he gestured to the bags and started filling another one.

Constance didn’t know what to make of this man standing beside her. One minute, she was pretty certain he was flirting with her, and the next he seemed to be backpedaling like he would rather not deal with a woman with a bunch of kids. She silently went back to packing her bags, shaking them open andloading cans that Paige was handing her in each one… only to pause.

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