Page 66 of Captivating Mr. Second Chance

Trace danced out of the kitchen, toward the bottom floor. Justin and Tom were down there already, and Ethan could hear Trace shouting at them, “Baseball off! We’re watchingZootopia!”

Ethan and his mother both caught each other’s gaze then laughed, though he quickly realized that they were alone and this was his chance to talk to her about the thing that had been knocking around in his head for a while. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“What’s up, Eth?” Rita opened the refrigerator. “You have something on your mind?”

He grabbed the platter of cookies when she handed it to him. “How’d you know?”

She shrugged and brought out another tray, this one of carrot cake. “I’m your mother. What’s up?”

“Well…”

With her hands on the kitchen island, his mom waited patiently for him to continue. She was much shorter than he was, though with thick-framed glasses and dark-brown hair, some people could probably be convinced they were biologically related.

“Ever since Justin was diagnosed, I’ve been thinking about, maybe, contacting my birth parents.”

Rita nodded as if that made total sense then peeled the plastic wrap off the desserts. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long.”

He pushed off the counter and moved to stand next to her, snagging a sugar cookie. “Seeing what happened when Justin tried to contact his…it, I don’t know, freaked me out.”

She rubbed a hand up and down his back. “Understandably, but that was a totally different situation. If you’re ready, you can try to contact your birth mother.”

Ethan munched on his cookie. “What exactly do you know about her?”

Rita rolled her head up to the ceiling, in much the same way Ethan did. “Um, not much. All of our contact was through the agency. She’d wanted pictures and updates when you were younger, but the older you got, the harder it was to keep up.” She met his eyes with a small smile. “Plus, I think maybe she had found peace in her decision. Or, at least, I hope she did.”

As Ethan thought more on that insight, his mom stuck her index finger in the air and jogged out of the kitchen, her slight footsteps padding on the carpeted staircase. Two minutes later, she returned with a closed manila envelope. She slid it in front of him on the island and then covered his hand with her own, squeezing it. “When you’re ready.”

He smiled at her, looping one long arm around her, and she wrenched him down to kiss his cheek. “I love you, honey, but you need to shave.” She patted his chin. “Especially with your girlfriend coming over.”

“Speaking of…” He leaned back, checking for the hundredth time if she’d arrived yet. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“Moi?” Rita’s jaw dropped, her hand on her heart. “I’d never.” When Ethan eyed her, she dropped the pretense and lifted her hands in innocence then bit into a cookie, zipping her lips with the rest of it after.

He nodded, although he didn’t believe her, and stepped into the small foyer when he heard a door close outside. A few seconds later, the doorbell rang, and he swung it open, grinning at Laney.

She quirked her lips to the side. “Hey, speedy, how’d you answer the door so fast?”

He propped one arm on the door, all cool-like. “I’ve kind of been watching the door for you to come. No big deal or anything.”

“Oh no?” She laughed, and he hauled her into him, kissing her smile away. He pressed his hands against her lower back, and she bowed into him, letting out a soft moan. This woman and her softness, from her lips to her skin to her sounds, he was addicted. So captivated that he’d forgotten to close the door and voices were filtering in from somewhere behind them.

“Daddy, is someone at the door?”

“Do you feel a draft? Why is the door still open?”

“Ethan! Who is it?”

“I think he said his girlfriend was coming over.”

“Ethan has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, is it Laney? She’s been so great with the fundraiser.”

Laney breathed out a giggle against Ethan’s lips, and he let his forehead drop to hers. No use in pretending they couldn’t hear his family. She leaned away from him but kept her index fingers around his belt loops, her attention like a lazy river down the length of his body. He did the same to her.

“You’re wearing your ChapStick,” he noted with a swipe of his tongue across his bottom lip.

She nodded, staring at him from under thick eyelashes.

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