Chapter Sixteen

Moon

Days after Cross had joined us for dinner, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d overheard outside Beau’s room. He was a widower and from the sound of things, Cross still suffered from the loss. It explained the sadness I often saw in his eyes. Every time I thought about it, my heart broke for him all over again. And to top it all off, the way he talked to Beau about it, so matter of fact, was perfect.

So perfect that Beau hadn’t stopped talking about Cross since he left our house that night, which made it impossible to stop thinking about the man. And I really, really needed to. A few sessions of unbelievably amazing sex was no reason to start obsessing about a man, especially one with so much on his plate already.

I shook thoughts of Cross out of my mind as I pulled up in front of Beau’s school. Today was the last day of school which meant three months of me and my favorite guy hanging out and having fun. But first we had an important appointment with a new specialist.

Even though Beau was smarter than the average kid, I knew the time would come when he’d find hanging out with his mom boring and uncool. So I knew I had to savor every moment he still thought I was the best thing since chocolate pudding. My heart swelled and a smile spread across my face as I caught sight of his black hair flopping against his forehead.

“Hey buddy, how was your day?”

Beau climbed into the front seat and I immediately heard the wheezing and slight effort to breathe. He eased his backpack over the back seat and I knew he was having a bad day. No energy to bounce into the car, fling his backpack around, give me a high five and start his nonstop chatter.

He slumped back and fastened his seatbelt without a reminder. He wasn’t having a full-blown attack, just a routine struggle with asthma. I wanted to scream out to the heavens and pound the steering wheel but if he could deal with it without complaining, I could too.

“It was good, Mom.” He said the right words, but his tone told me otherwise.

“Are you upset about the specialist visit? If you are, don’t worry. This is just informational.”

Dr. Yang had recommended that we see a new doctor who used stem cells to treat certain asthma cases. I didn’t know a lot about stem cell treatments other than they were showing promise for patients with plenty of ailments, so I was cautiously hopeful.

“No Mom, it’s not that.” Well, it was something and the way his bottom lip poked out told me it was a serious something. I waited. Beau was male, albeit a young one, which meant he wouldn’t share his feelings until he was good and ready.

Waiting was easy once I merged into traffic and listened to NPR playing low inside the car. After fifteen minutes he pulled out a book and called my bluff. That was what happened when you had a kid too smart for basic parenting techniques. I let out a heavy sigh as I turned off the radio.

“You have to be the only kid on the planet who isn’t happy on the last day of school.”

He sighed and shoved his book into the side pocket of the door. “They want to put me in the fifth grade next year instead of fourth.”

It wasn’t all that shocking since his teacher and principal had been hinting at it all year, but I didn’t like that they’d gone behind my back to talk to my kid about it. “You don’t want to do that?”

“Noooo…how will I make friends with those older kids?” He looked up at me like I had all the answers.

I wish I did. “Easily. You’re funny and great, how can they not want to be your friend?” His blue eyes showed me that he didn’t appreciate that answer and my heart ached in my chest. “Science camp starts in a few weeks, chat up a few of the older kids if you can. Maybe you’ll have a few friends when the new year starts.”

“But Mom, it’s fifth grade! After that I’ll be in sixth and then comes junior high and I’m not ready!” His cheeks were bright pink, and his eyes had turned pale in his anguish.

“If you’re not ready then you don’t have to do it, Beau. But I think you should think about it for a while before we do anything. Okay?”

He nodded but I knew he wasn’t finished. I could feel his gaze burning through the side of my face. “Can we forget the appointment today? Nothing will ever work and now I have to think about the fifth grade,” he said as though it were on par with trying to pursue world peace. And to him, I was sure it was just as important.

“Tell you what, you think about the fifth grade and I’ll worry about the specialist.” It was the best I could offer because I would never stop trying to help my little boy. Whether he was eight or eighty, I’d always do whatever I could to give him the best, longest life possible.

The drive to Dr. Mankowski’s office would go quickly as soon as we moved away from the city traffic, so I relaxed behind the wheel and listened to Beau talk about all the experiments he wanted to try when camp started. Last year he’d gone to math camp, but he hadn’t enjoyed it quite as much. “I like science more than numbers,” he said, remembering his disappointment last year.

“You don’t think math is useful?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes. “I guess it’s useful, but with science, you can see how it works in the real world.”

I laughed. “And you think math doesn’t?”

He shook his head. “No, Mom, you don’t understand.”

“Well, I could argue the basics like paying bills and buying groceries or making a cake but let’s go a little more difficult and talk about critical thinking skills. Buildings.”

“But buildings also use science,” he argued correctly.

“I think that means they’re both very useful in everyday life.”

Beau groaned. “I guess so.”

By the time we arrived to see the specialist, Beau had forgotten all about becoming a fifth grader next year. I just hoped the doctor had some good news for us.

***

Visits to doctors and specialists had always left me feeling exhausted and even though I knew I brought it on myself, I couldn’t stop it. The incessant worrying and waiting for the other shoe to drop. The clenched fists and teeth, and of course the racing heart. But today Dr. Mankowski had given me something I’d been faking for a long time.

Hope.

He hadn’t made any promises but his research was promising. And it gave Beau a chance to get off the nebulizer.

“Don’t be scared, Mom,” he said on a yawn. Poor Beau was even more beat than I was after plenty of breathing tests as well as a physical exam and a quick blood test to see if there were any other health concerns he needed to know about before they started determining his eligibility for the stem cell treatment.

I sighed and ruffled his hair. “You’re a sweet boy, Beau, but you know I will always worry about you. Always.” We were almost home and I needed peace. Maybe yoga. Maybe a magic brownie once Beau was down for the night.

Maybe. It was the story of my life. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

A quick look in the passenger seat showed his eyes had slid shut and his chest moved up and down evenly. No wheezing to be heard as I turned into the driveway and that fact alone had my whole body sinking back into the driver’s seat. Hearing him breathe slow and normal was a load off.

For now.

His attacks came at any time and they could be light and quick, no big deal. But most of the time they were more serious, exhausting for both of us and often ended up with us in the hospital emergency room. I had hoped we’d both end up in our respective beds today.

But as I looked through the windshield my gaze landed on Cross, looking better than my black bean lasagna and I already knew he was twice as delicious. What I didn’t know, as I stepped from the car and rounded the trunk to get my sleeping son, was why he’d shown up on my doorstep.

“Hey.” The word came out soft, quiet and maybe just a little breathless. Maybe.

“Hey.” His smile was as bright as I’d ever seen it, even though the shadows were still there.

“Everything all right?”

He blew out a breath and took Beau from my arms while I searched for the keys I’d dropped back in my handbag.

“Yes and no.”

My chuckle came out low and amused while I pushed the door open, stepping aside so he could take Beau in first. I followed, doing my best to keep my gaze off his perfectly rounded backside which was encased in deep blue denim that showed off long, sculpted legs to perfection. He was a treat to look at and just like any treat, it was all right to indulge once in a while.

Cross laid my little boy in his bed like Beau was as precious to him as he was to me and I knew that would be a hard image to forget, especially as Beau grew older and asked more often about his father. But I was getting ahead of myself.

“What else?” Cross asked.

I smirked at how uncomfortable he looked, all big and tall and masculine in a room meant for a small boy. “You want to get him ready for bed?”

Cross’s face dissolved in a look of horror, and I had to bite my lip to stop the laughter threatening to wake up Beau and make for a cranky little boy.

“I’m kidding. You can grab a beer if you want or take some time to find some other creative ways to get out of talking about what’s bothering you.”

I swear his face held a distinct pink tint as he brushed past me, his leathery masculine scent invading my nose for long moments as flashes of the physical pleasures I’d found with him played in my mind.

“You’re a regular comedienne aren’t ya?”

I shrugged. “Nope. Just a teller of unfortunate truths.” I left Cross with that thought as I quickly worked off Beau’s shoes, socks and jeans. He hated sleeping in his t-shirt and undies because he thought it was too childish but he’d never had the unfortunate task of trying to undress his sleeping form. After a quick kiss goodnight, I pulled the door closed, leaving a small gap because I was an overprotective parent to my core.

“You’re good at that stuff.” Cross’s voice startled me in the dim hall. “Sorry,” he said, looking more amused than sorry.

“It’s okay.” My smile was a little wobbly as my heartrate returned to normal. “And thanks,” I said, sidestepping him as I made my way down the staircase. Distance was key when Cross was fresh from the shower, smelling like a man with slightly damp, chocolate hair. “Every day it feels like it’s all one second from disaster so don’t let this cool shell fool you. I’m told it’s normal but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I couldn’t tell. You look like you’re killing the whole parenting thing.”

A laugh exploded out of me and I smacked a hand over my mouth, frozen in case Beau woke up. “Thank you, Cross. That’s nice to hear. Drink?”

“Sure.” His lips quirked up like he knew I was trying to change the subject. “I never thought you’d be uncomfortable with compliments. You seem so confident.”

“I am, but any parent who is confident is probably doing it wrong.”

I’d seen all types of parents and had been raised by two supremely confident parents who, if they weren’t rich, would have been prime candidates for neglect convictions. I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge along with some cheese and crackers. I didn’t tell him the hors d’oeuvres were my own recipes; I figured he was dealing with enough hippie dippy food as it was. And accepting it pretty well. I didn’t want to push my luck.

“Grab those glasses, would you and follow me.”

Cross followed me into the backyard, setting the glasses on top of the colorful three-legged table I’d painted with Beau a few years ago. “Cool table.”

“Family art project.” The two Adirondack chairs were as colorful as the table. “Pick a color.”

He grinned. “You know I have to take the one with the cape on the back,” he said with a laugh as he lowered himself onto the chair. “I always wanted to be a superhero.”

“I’m sure you’d look fantastic in tights.” He cut me a glare that made me laugh again and finally I felt the last of the tension seep from my body. “Very fantastic.”

He popped the cork and frowned. “What the hell is this? Moonshine?”

“No, because this isn’t the 1920’s, and its blueberry wine. I picked it up at the Farmer’s Market.” He still looked skeptical but I filled both glasses to the halfway point because it was clear Cross had something on his mind. “Drink.”

Despite his tough guy persona, Cross was openminded, sniffing the aroma before taking a small sip. Then a bigger one. And a bigger one still. “Damn that’s good. Better than I expected.”

“It’s made by a local artisan. She also does a fantastic blueberry kush wine.” The surprise that flashed on his face was damn near comical. “It’s delicious too and has a low alcohol content.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” he grumbled.

“Probably because from what I understand, your dispensaries aren’t licensed to sell booze. Anyway she only sells them at the market, so if you’re interested you need to get up early on the weekends.”

Quiet settled between us, both lost in our own thoughts. My head was tilted toward the sunset, as I enjoyed the last splashes of light before it began its final descent while Cross stared into his glass. It was nice but I knew he didn’t come to spend time with me. “Ready to talk?”

He sighed, a universal male sign for he absolutely did not want to talk. I wasn’t surprised. Disappointed maybe, but Cross didn’t owe me anything so no, not surprised. “There’s not much to say, Moon.”

“I hear you, but your aura is vibrating red and black, which means you have a lot on your mind and whatever it is, there’s danger associated with it and possibly death.” I didn’t want to tell him what else, but I had to. “And you don’t know where all the threats are coming from.”

His blue eyes were obsidian with nothing but the fading sunlight surrounding us, but I could see the emotion written all over his handsome face right now. Shock. “How in the hell could you possibly know that?”

I was used to that response when I offered an analysis because people always vacillated between shock and anger, sometimes defensiveness and accusations. “I just told you, red and black surround you like Deadpool.”

He wanted to say more, to question if I really saw it or had another source for my information. Thankfully, he didn’t. He poured more wine and took his time finishing the glass before he spoke. “You’re right and you know almost as much as I do about it. Roadkill is one of our problems even with Vigo now worm food, but I can’t say for sure where the other threat is coming from. But fuck, it feels like something is coming. Something big.”

“Are you ready for it, whatever it is?”

He huffed out a purely masculine laugh. “Fuck no.”

I stood and reached for the blanket I used as a cushion on my chair, fanning it out on the ground. “Come on, sit. Take off your vest, your shoes and any weapons you have.”

“Weapons?” Thick brown brows arched in a question.

“Yeah, aren’t people trying to kill you?” Arms crossed, I dared him to argue.

“And I suppose you don’t have any weapons around?”

I heard the challenge in his voice and raised my chin in defiance. “I’m used to being underestimated,” I told him. “When I was younger, I hated it. It always bothered me. And then I grew up. I accepted it for the advantage it gave me.” The look on his face when I pulled the butterfly knife was priceless. “See? That advantage.”

His smile curved up, highlighting his soft lips and the sparkle in his eye. “You never fail to surprise me, Moon.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I told him and sat on the blanket with my legs folded in front of me. “Sit here.” I patted the space right across from me and when he sat, our knees brushed. His scent and his heat swirled around me with the impact of a tornado, making it hard to focus.

“Okay. Now what?”

“Now we breathe.” He groaned but I held a serene smile. “Not deep breathing necessarily, just calm breaths. Listen to my voice and breathe like this.” His gaze tore through me as if he could see more than I was allowing, which was somewhat unsettling. “None of that.”

“None of what?”

I pointed at his face. “None of that heat and desire. We’re being calm. Relaxing.”

“I’m getting very relaxed.” His gaze turned predatory, intense with a raw hunger I’d yet to see on his usually stony expression.

“Pay attention,” I admonished, and he only smiled again.

“You have my undivided attention Moon.”

Why did my whole body light up like a Christmas tree when his voice pitched low like that? Probably because I knew he could more than match the promise in his gaze. His intoxicating voice. I shook it off because I had to, because Cross needed me to. Sex was amazing most of the time and so far with him it had been better than ever, but it wouldn’t fix this.

“Focus,” I told him and closed my eyes, continuing the deep breathing exercises while letting the sound of his breathing slow my own.

“This isn’t working.” Cross sounded frustrated but I kept my eyes closed and reached for his hands.

“Give it time.” It didn’t always work but with a little effort, I knew it could help him clear his mind and focus on the big picture.

“I have a better idea.” His voice was a deep growl, forcing my eyes open. Reluctantly.

They opened just in time to see his handsome face twisted with desire and heading my way until his big body pressed against mine, slowly leaning me back onto the ground. “This isn’t the right position.” But it was one I enjoyed as his denim-covered cock settled against the wet panties that separated us.

“But it is a pretty damn good position. Right?” For emphasis his hips moved against mine, sending a fiery trail coursing through my veins and a starburst behind my eyes.

“Yep. Very good. Very.”

Cross chuckled at my words and once again I was struck at how much that one move transformed his face from the hardened president of a motorcycle club to a boyishly handsome man with eyes that lit up beautifully. “You’re too damn distracting, Moon.”

I loved the way he said my name, low and gritty and hungry. Like he really meant his words, not like he was playing games. “I think that’s my line.”

Cross was done talking, I could tell because the air around us changed. Sharpened. It was electrified as his expression turned serious and his hand began a slow journey up under my skirt, big and hot, leaving a trail of heat until he reached my core. “Fuck. You’re so hot.”

I laughed. “So are you. Scorching.”

He licked his lips, gaze fixed on mine until he closed his eyes and laid claim to my mouth in a kiss so hot, so fiery and so raw with obvious need that I couldn’t resist it if I tried. I could do nothing but arch into him, open myself to allow the invasion to be complete. And then—sweet goddess above—his fingers hooked inside my panties and slipped inside where I was wet and hungry for him. “Fuck. So fucking wet, Moon.”

“You do have that effect,” I told him, breathless with need and arching up into him because my body wanted everything he was offering. One finger teased me at first, slowly pumping into me but mostly teasing me until I moaned. “Tease.”

He laughed and pressed his lips to mine again, this time plunging two fingers deep, pumping into me while his thumb teased over my swollen clit. I swallowed his groan while my hips rolled against his hand, silently begging for more.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, making out and heavy petting like kids decades younger than us, but I relished it. I reveled in the way Cross made me feel, wanted and passionate and young. It was an intoxicating feeling that I couldn’t get enough of, not yet anyway. Not when he tore his lips from my mouth and slowly began a wickedly sensual form of torture all around my neck while his hands brought me close to the edge and backed off.

Once.

Twice.

And just when I was about to get angry at his teasing, Cross pushed me over the edge, pulling a low erotic moan from me. “Cross!” My chest heaved, and my overheated skin didn’t seem to recognize the chill in the air because the sun had set long ago.

“I love to hear you shout my name when you come apart.”

“Yeah? Well if you have a condom we can test that theory.” I wasn’t uptight about sex but given my living situation, I wasn’t careless either. Even though I couldn’t resist Cross, I knew I had to be careful.

“I don’t but that’s okay, it was just for you. I got exactly what I needed.”

I didn’t know what needed meant but there was no way in hell I’d let him leave unfulfilled after those intense words.