Page 33 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
“Listen, I'm sorry," he says.
“For what?”
“I don’t know. I just get the feeling that you’re mad at me,and I don’t want you to be. If it's about what happened... I won’t do anything like that again. I'm sorry, I lost my head for a bit there, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If I was out of line or I coerced you into something you didn't want to do..."
“That's definitely not what happened,” I assure him, taking pity on the unsteady look on his face. “You didn't do anything wrong, Wes. I’m just kinda embarrassed that it happened in the first place. That’s not the type of thing I would do, you know? It was very out of character for me.”
He shrugs and then smiles in relief. “It’s okay. It looked like you were pent up and it’s good to do something crazy but fun every once in a while to release the energy."
Well, when he puts it like that, it sounds better. Crazy but fun. That's what it was. "Thanks for understanding.”
"No problem. And if you ever need some sweet release again..."
"Got it." I laugh at the incorrigible wiggle of his eyebrows as he walks away.
I return to the kitchen with a smile still on my lips. Although I don't plan on taking Wes up on his offer, it's nice to feel desired again, especially since Keegan convinced me that nothing about me was desirable.
But now I know that Wes, who is undoubtedly a Grade A beefcake, wants me.
Take that Keegan, you evil bastard.
I send this silent message to my ex whilst spending the rest of the day preparing the evening meal – a roast chicken with homemade rolls, a potato salad, and a baked ziti. I also make banana bread for dessert. It's a more elaborate dinner than what I usually cook, but I do it to thank the men for letting me stay for free. Also, if I’m honest, because I want to impress them a little.
If they've been surviving on cereal and mac-and-cheese, then I hope this blows their mind.
At dinner time, the men file in through the doors within seconds of each other, with Mitch being the last to arrive. They stare at the spread as they circle the table, Wes whistling, "Damn. All this for us?"
"Yup." I gesture. "Sit, eat."
Chairs scrape against the ground as they sit, and Katie and Maddie arrive from washing their hands in the bathroom.
My daughter takes the two seats between Charlie and where I'm supposed to sit. The men look at each other lost for a second, and I ask, "Anyone want to say grace?"
They pause and then Mitch nods. "Sure. I'll do it."
They don't hold hands or anything and barely shut their eyes while Mitch offers a short, simple prayer. And then, when he opens his eyes, he reaches for a plate and takes a couple of slices of the roast chicken from the larger dish, before filling it with some of the potato salad and a good helping of ziti, plus a fresh bread roll from the pile. His brothers follow his actions in silence, and I bend to help my two kids fill their plates too, as well as grabbing a little of each for my own plate.
And now comes the moment of truth. Mitch cuts a largish bite of roast chicken pops it into his mouth and chews carefully whilst his brothers watch him. Nerves pound in my stomach as I wait for the verdict. He swallows, frowns, stares straight ahead of him.
"Well?" I ask when he still hasn't spoken.
Mitch finally meets my eyes. "This is the best damn chicken I’ve ever tasted."
As the other men take their first bites, Charlie nods, Wes cheers and I beam.
CHAPTER 12
Charlie
It’s easy for us to fall into a routine.
Every morning, I wake up to the scent of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes. Or hash browns and eggs, or French toast, or some other delicacy that Patty has concocted. I’ve never been a morning kind of guy, but I have to admit that I’m starting to look forward to the delectable breakfast meals she manages to serve so perfectly. We haven't had such a wide assortment since Mom died. Usually, it's whatever crap Wes and I can scrounge up with minimal effort. Eating had become a necessity, not a pleasure, and it was only now that we were realizing just how much we missed proper home-cooked food, served with love and pride, and eaten with joy and contentment.
But it wasn’t just the breakfasts of course. Last night I almost found myself moaning with delight as I swallowed a forkful of perfectly cooked steak pie, served with peas, carrots, sweetcorn, and buttery mashed potatoes, all smothered in delicious brown gravy.
And now, as the sun sits low in the sky, I'm in a rush to get back and check out tonight's dinner.
Although, that’s not the only reason I am hurrying to the kitchen.
