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A voice, deeper than I remember but still just as thrill provoking sends warmth through my entire being sounds from behind me. I stand up straight and slowly turn to face him.

“It’s the truth.” Good God and all that is holy, wow. Fucking just… I swallow thickly, my eyes go from his boots to his trousers, the holsters on his hip tied around his bulging thigh, to his bulletproof vest and up, where a sheriff’s hat sits on his black crown of hair, blue eyes like a cloudless skypiercing through my heart, tip deep. “SheriffCarson.” Oh God, he’s so hot. I thought he looked good in a Henly and jeans?

So much saliva is pools in my mouth at just the mere sight of him and other pink parts of me are tingling with a need to be touched.

“Mama you’re blushing!” Noah crows loudly and that sends me seven shades past crimson as I can feel the heat flare up my neck, to my cheeks and fuck, I can feel my nipples harden under my loose NYU shirt with – Oh my god, is that a coffee stain? I groan inaudibly.This can’t be happening. Someone take me away, please.

Dean drops to one knee, cuffs jingling, and sticks out his hand. “Hey little man. I’m Sheriff Dean Carson. You’ll be seeing me sometimes in the morning or during lunch.”

“I’m Noah Huntington.” Noah says, putting his little hand in his, and my heart hammers against my chest.

Endless ocean eyes look up at me bit by bit. And I’m suddenly all too aware I’ve been wearing these sweatpants for two days. Seriously, someone please take me out by sniper. “Noah, huh?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.Shit.

“Mmhmm.” I hum nervously because I am almost thirty-three years old and I have been reduced to stammers and hums.

“Noah, get to class honey, you’re already late.” Maranda huffs from behind me, bearing witness to this colossal train wreck.

Noah hugs my thighs.“Bye Mommy, I love you. Oh, don’t forget to give Clifford new water. His smelled funny.”

I lean to kiss his head. “Sure thing. Love you more, little man.”

And off he goes.Which is when I notice I’m also wearing my super old, furry gerbil slippers- a very thoughtful Christmas gift from Noah he told me to order for him so he could give them to me two years ago. They’re my favorite.

Without looking back up at Dean I shift from foot to foot. “’Scuse me I gotta-“ I jerk my thumb to the door awkwardly and fuckingflee. Also, awkwardly.Gerbil slippers are not made for fleeing. Just you know, FYI.

“Verity, wait!” He yells but I’m already peeling out of the school parking lot like a Nascar racer. I watch Dean from my rearview mirror place his hands on his lean hips staring after us and would you look at that? I’m still drooling.

“Whoa mom, holy shit, what just happened?” Savannah says from the backseat.

“Don’t say shit. And nothing. Just… don’t want you to be late for school.” I semi-lie.

“Okay…” she says doubtfully. “Can you buy me some gloves?”

“It’s August. You don’t need gloves yet.” I round the corner and pull up behind the last few cars in the car lane. See? I am totally rocking this single mom shit. Insert inward eye roll here and sprinkle on just a tad of mom guilt.

God, when does this get easier? In New Haven, we lived a few blocks away from their private school. We could walk if we had to. Here in Texas? It’s a twenty minute drive to Noah’s school and another fifteen to get to Sav’s. The worst part? No delivery services! I’ve learned to just wait until I absolutelyhave togo into town to do so. I am really starting to miss Connecticut and having my groceries delivered.

Woe is me.

“They aren’t for school. The house gets really cold. It hurts my fingers. I can’t paint and I can’t find the ones from last year.”

I frown. The house is always at apleasantseventy degrees year round. She’s never had an issue with it in New Haven. I even had Will install a secondary AC unit in case the first unit overheats. “Okay. I can order you some. I have to place an order for your special chips and snacks anyway.”

“Fingerless, if that’s okay? Or the kind I can pull the tips off and button them back like my old ones. I really liked those and I’m sad I can’t find them. I caught this picture of a sunset going over the sunflower fields and… I really want to paint it. I have the grid for it figured out.”

I nod, understanding my daughter has certain attachment issues since Micah died. She keeps the things she loves closest – her paints, her headphones, books, gloves. If she loves it, it’s important and I make it important for me, too. The car in front of me goes and then stops, and I follow. “How has school been for you? I know the kids in this town can be…”

“A-holes?”

I nod, grimacing. “I was going to saysmall minded, but yeah. A-holes works, too.” I sigh, watching my daughter through the reflection in the rearview. She’s so beautiful, my Savannah. I know, I’m biased. Even with her headphones on, the way she looks out the window, taking everything in, always watching, quiet. She has an intensity that reminds me of Dean in all the best ways.

“Other than I‘talk funny,’” she says with a dramatic southern accent, “it’s fine. Hey, can you order me that new book I wanted? The library here doesn’t have it.”

I’m sure the library here doesn’t have a lot of books she’s into. “Yeah, of course, honey. Don’t forget I’ll be with Eli and Will all day at the bookshop. So Zoey will be picking you and Noah up to meet me there, then we can have dinner with Uncle Eli when we’re done. How does sushi sound?”

We finally reach the front of the school, she slides over and opens the door, hooking the strap of her bookbag over her shoulder. She gives me barely a semblance of a smile. I know her eyes are blue… but I wish I could take away the sadness that’s rooted in them. “Good. Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you later.”