Page 31 of The Locksmith's Promise

“You called him my dad.”

I flushed and swallowed. “Well, he is your dad.”

He dipped his chin, uncharacteristically shy.

I put the knife I’d been using to chop the salad down and turned to face him. “What’s bothering you, bud?”

“Does it hurt your feelings?”

I frowned, wiping my hands off on the tea towel. “Does what hurt my feelings?”

He shrugged, his mouth pulling down at the corners like it always did when he was close to tears.

I opened my arms. “Come here, baby.”

He walked straight into me, not stopping until his head hit my chest, and wrapped his skinny arms around me.

Tension vibrated through his body.

“You wanting to be with your dad doesn’t hurt my feelings,” I whispered. “I love Baxter. I’ve always loved Baxter. He was my best friend and my first love. I don’t regret anything we had. The only thing I regret, and I regret it deeply,” I paused to regain control of the waver in my voice, “is that you didn’t get to meet him sooner.”

His shoulders relaxed. “You don’t care if I spend time with him?”

“I want you to spend time with him. I want you to know him,” I replied fiercely, tightening my arms around him. “You deserve to know one another.”

He waited a beat. “You don’t seem happy. When he’s here, you don’t seem happy.”

I stilled. The sweetness and downfall of being a single mom to a single child is the focus and synchronicity you develop on each other.

“It’s a big change,” I hedged. “Sometimes change is hard, even when it’s a good one like this one,” I murmured, lightly scratching his scalp just as I’d done when he was a baby.

Before I could go on, there was a brisk knock on the door.

Frowning, I walked over and swung it open to find Baxter. Standing on the small porch in a black henley and a thick lumberjacket, hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans, he’d reverted to Moose Lake attire.

This was how I remembered him.

Seeing him like this, feeling him near, was like sunshine breaking through the rain, finding water in the desert, and spying the first shoot of green breaking through the snow after a long, hard winter all at once.

God, I’d missed him so much.

My chest tightened.

“You’re early,” I barked.

He dipped his chin and looked down at the ground for just long enough for me to figuratively kick myself.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know why this is so hard for me. I wanted this, but—”

His dark eyes shot up to hold mine. “It’s okay, Maggie. We’ll find our way.” His gaze sharpened. “I promise.”

I stared back at him.

Tempted to fall back into his arms, I took a tiny step forward.

He moved, ready to meet me halfway, but I balked.

What did I know of the man he became?

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