Page 10 of Riding Danger

“They’re supposed to be divorced. That is not normal divorced people's behavior.” He tilted his head at me. “I don’t know why I never saw it before. Ethan looks just like you.”

I guessed at the way the other chaperones were looking at Shiloh and me earlier that news would travel around the small town. Not that it bothered me. Ethan was not going to be a secret anymore.

“Look, I know you want to warn me and threaten me and all sorts of things. But I am about to be late for dinner.”

“At Shiloh’s?” At my nod he continued. “Then please go. She’s not the most tolerant when it comes to tardiness.”

Great. I was a man with many flaws, but of course the mother of my child would hone in on my most obvious.

With a quick wave, I left. Before I allowed the GPS to direct me to Shiloh’s house, I stopped at the grocery store. The young woman who rang up the three kinds of ice cream gave me a familiar smile. She knew who I was but she didn’t want to harass me. I appreciated the thought and hoped the rest of the town would do the same. Especially since I intended to spend a lot of time in Marina De Ferrier.

The drive to the address Layla gave me was quick and uneventful. The manor she and some of her friends were staying at was huge. Judging by the number of windows on the top floor there were at least six bedrooms. Instead of walking up to the front door, I took the small path to the cottage at the back. I didn’t get a chance to ring the doorbell. The door swung open and Ethan stood there with a big grin.

“Hi Mr. Ryder. Mom said you’re late.”

Less than two minutes, but sure. “Hey kiddo. I am terribly sorry.” He continued to stare at me as if he couldn’t believe I was there. “Do you mind if I come in and place the ice cream in the freezer?”

Kid looked down at my arms and his eyes widened as he took in the three tubs.

“Mom’s gonna go ballistic.”

I walked into the coziest home I’d ever seen. Everything was in its place, but it also looked like a home. There were schoolbooks on the kitchen counter next to a book bag. And then there was the smell. Cheese and meat and sauce. All of it was so inviting and so mouthwatering. It was nothing like my childhood, or even the childhood I knew Shi had to endure.

“I need to put this in the freezer.”

“Are you planning on taking home what we don’t eat?”

“I plan on being here for dinner every night for the foreseeable future. We’ll eventually get through it all.”

“Shh.” She placed a finger over her lips. The move was adorable and sexy at the same time. “I haven’t told him anything yet. I wanted you here when I broke the news.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask her what she had already told him when Ethan walked back into the kitchen. “Mr. Ryder, can I get you something to drink?”

“You can just call me Ryder.” I turned to Shi. “Unless you think that is inappropriate.”

“Ryder’s fine.” Her smile was soft and my shoulders relaxed a little more.

Ethan was still looking at me expectantly and I remembered that he had asked me if I wanted a drink. “Just water, please.”

Normally the day before a recording session I would drink tea with honey, or something equally soft but I didn’t want to put Shiloh out. Even more, I didn’t want to fluster a little boy who was already nervous, with my diva-like requests.

“Eth, you need to set the table.” Shiloh’s voice softened when she spoke to our son. I loved that. “Maybe you can get Ryder to help you.”

I clapped my hands together, happy at the thought of having something to do. “Yes, please. Put me to work.”

“The plates are in that cabinet.” Ethan pointed at a cabinet that was just out of his reach while he dug in a drawer for the silverware.

There was something about the domesticity of it that really comforted me. I wasn’t much of a cook. And as much as I hated cleaning, I grew up in an environment where if I wanted anything clean, I had to do it myself. Not that I had done it very well.

No, the only thing I did with any sort of aplomb was sing, and play most musical instruments. That was the only thing I was good at.

But Shiloh. Oh. She’d made a home. My son was comfortable and safe because of her.

Once the table was set, Ethan and I carried the food through. Well, he carried the salad and I carried the dish with the steaming cheesy enchiladas.

“Ryder.” Ethan spoke up once grace was said and his mom had dished for him. “When did you start singing?”

“I was a lot like you.” I decided to give him an abridged version of my story. “I started singing in the choir when I was in elementary school. But of course, because I was a boy, no one took me seriously until after my voice broke.”

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