Page 35 of Falling for Roxanne

“Really? Well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, look at you. I doubt you have to advertise on an app to find somebody.”

“That’s not exactly the case,” I said finally. “I never really got back in the game after losing my wife. I was absorbed with raising my son, recovering from the grief. And by the time I was ready, there was just too much on my plate. I have a law firm, and I’m an adjunct professor at Berkeley and I do pro bono work in the summers and I have Colin. I don’t have a lot of free time, and what I do have, I spend with my son by choice. If it’s a choice between taking him to Disneyland for the weekend or going on a blind date, I can tell you right now it’s no contest.”

“I see,” she said. “That’s really noble. And you seem like a great dad. Colin’s a lucky kid. Dads are really important, and I missed mine a lot growing up.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Tell me more about Colin,” she said.

I got out my phone and showed her a picture of him in his robot costume. “Now this was last year’s Halloween costume, but he loves it so much he wears it around the house. See how the sleeves are too short?” I pointed out.

“That’s fantastic. Does he do the voice and beep? Please say yes,” she said, giggling. Her warmth and enthusiasm were lovely, as was her genuine interest in my son.

“He beeps and boops and does a sort of mechanical sounding voice, and sometimes he just stops in the middle of whatever we’re doing and stands there and when I ask what’s up, he says his battery is low. Then I pick him up and toss him over my shoulder and run around the house while he makes a buzzing noise that gets louder as the battery charges. Then I put him down and chase him,” I said laughing. “That probably sounds—”

“Magical. It sounds amazing, Hamilton. It sounds sweet and playful and like he’s gonna remember that his whole life and then do the same thing with his kids,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s just beautiful.”

“He’s an amazing kid. He’s the most important thing in my life, and if I hadn’t had him to take care of, I don’t know if I would’ve survived losing Heather. He was my reason to keep going. I just worry that no matter what I do it won’t be enough to make up for not having a mom.”

“You’re more than enough. My mom had to work two jobs and I spent a lot of time doing my homework at some neighbor’s house, but I knew she loved me, and she was keeping us together and fighting for my dad. That’s where I get my fighting spirit. Just because I wished my dad was with us doesn’t mean she wasn’t enough. She’s so strong and loving, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her telling me to do it, to go to college and be who I’m supposed to be and we’ll figure out how to make it work. She helped me with scholarship applications when I was so scared I wouldn’t get any funding and it would all be loans I had to spend decades paying back. She believed in me, so I believe in myself. Colin’s going to be who you see him as, and you treat him like he’s the most amazing, brilliant kid in the world, from what I can tell,” she said.

I wanted to hug her. Because she’d overcome so much and stayed so open hearted and because her words were so encouraging to me as a single parent. I felt a rush of affection for her, but I kept to my part of the sidewalk. When we reached the parking lot, she thanked me for dinner and got in her car.

CHAPTER 18

ROXANNE

My stupid car decided not to start. When I tried the ignition, it made a grinding sound and then went quiet. I tried again. And again.

Cathy was out with friends tonight, so I wasn’t going to call her to come get me. I’d just get an Uber. I started to open the app and there was a knock on my window. Startled, I jumped, then saw it was Hamilton. I opened the door.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked, “you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was waiting to make sure your car started. My dad raised me like that, be a gentleman, open the door, make sure a lady gets home safely.”

“That’s nice, but I didn’t expect you to wait around.”

“Come on, let me give you a ride home.”

“No, I’m fine, I’ll get an Uber home. Cathy can drive me to class in the morning and I’ll get the car towed. I won’t leave it here, don’t worry,” I said.

“I’m not worried about the car. I’m taking you home. There’s no way I’m going to let you pay for a rideshare when I’m right here and I can drop you off. It’s no trouble,” he said.

“I’m fine. I’ll take care of it,” I insisted.

“Roxanne. Please. I know you can take care of yourself. But I want to take care of this and take care of you. Let me take you home.”

His voice was warm, coaxing. He wasn’t pounding his chest and demanding I do what he said. He was letting me know as tenderly as possible that he wanted to see me safely home, that he didn’t want this to devolve into an argument where we tried to out-stubborn each other. His voice, his suggestion that he wanted to take care of me, even just for tonight, just because of my car—that melted me. I found myself agreeing. I got my purse and locked my useless vehicle.

He led me to his car, a sleek Mercedes SUV, and unlocked it. I climbed in and when he turned it on, he pressed a button for the heated seats. I hadn’t realized I was chilled from the wind until the warmth of the seat seemed to cradle me.

“That’s nice,” I said. “Thank you for giving me a ride.” I told him my address and then looked at him in the glow of the dashboard lights. He was so handsome, that chiseled jaw and straight nose, the sheer masculinity of his profile as he drove. His big hand gripped the wheel loosely, certain of his complete control. His other hand was free, and I wanted so much to hold it, to intertwine my fingers with his, to be driving somewhere, a bed and breakfast upstate for the weekend with him, to hold hands and listen to music and just be this close to him. It was as irrational as wanting the moon, but a fierce longing just the same.

“Hamilton,” I said.

“Roxanne,” he said smoothly, a smile playing at his lips. He didn’t say, ‘what?’, he said my name. I loved the way my name sounded on his lips. I loved how he said it. I sighed out loud.

Every inch of my body was responding to him, to his nearness, his voice. My nipples were tight and aching, and the pull in my belly, the tingle between my legs distracting me. Warmth flooded my flesh and my sex felt flushed, needy. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and made myself take a deep breath.

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