Twenty-one

ROWAN

From the night Jensen and I took that leap to being lovers, our day-to-day lives had changed dramatically.

Calder accepted us as a couple right away, even assigning Jensen his own place at our table. I attributed the ease of the transition to Jens being present in Calder’s life from the start of our friendship. Now after we ate meals together, or watched TV at Jensen’s apartment, or hung out at the pool or the playground, most nights Jensen went to bed with me. That seemed to be Calder’s only complaint: jealousy that Mommy got to have more sleepovers than he did.

I still did most of Calder’s care on my own: bathing him, driving him places and setting up the child-care co-op with our newfound friends in building two. But some nights he asked Jensen to read to him instead of me. Some afternoons I’d find them immersed in Harry Potter or destroying the kitchen when they played Chopped.

Calder was a rule-following kid, so discipline wasn’t an issue. Jensen agreed to tell me if Calder acted in a way that might require “clarification.” We got a huge kick out of that word—it’d become the safe word between Lucy and Jax at camp.

While Jensen and I were very much together, the only place we were completely open about it was at Snow Village. Jensen swore his clubbing days had ended with his injury. Hanging out in a bar on a rare child-free night didn’t appeal to either of us. We weren’t hiding our relationship. We just built it in a place it could flourish, among the people who mattered to us.

After we’d been a couple for a few weeks, we’d driven to my parents’ farm. Between the football talk, the history talk and the sampling of the hard cider until the wee small hours, Jensen and my dad became fast friends. I sensed my parents’ relief in Jensen’s dealings with Calder and his open affection for both of us. I’d had to laugh—and blush—when after too many cups of apple wine my mother asked if Jensen’s rocket rocked my world. But I’d known she’d worried about me acting too cynical about love and relationships because of my early responsibilities as a single parent. She wasn’t impressed by Jensen’s looks, charm, fame or money. Seeing me happy with him, and him happy with me—and Calder too . . . that impressed her.

Calder and I had met both of Jensen’s brothers and their wives. Since Trinity taught at camp and Walker helped out building theater sets, Calder was comfortable with them. The fact that they had a swimming pool earned them bonus points. It’d taken him a couple of times to warm up to Brady and Lennox. Brady’s love of Harry Potter had won him over, as had Lennox’s new kitty, Chaos.

Jensen’s sister, Annika, and her husband, Axl, were spending a month in Sweden, so they weren’t around for the family gatherings. Neither were Jensen’s parents, as they too were off traveling the world. I’d heard so much about Jensen’s mother that the woman scared me. I had no idea how she’d take the news of her baby being shacked up with a single mother and her kid.

Friday afternoon I arrived at camp fifteen minutes before class ended. I hadn’t seen Jensen’s car outside, but I stopped into the office anyway.

Astrid was at her desk, conversing with a blond woman with her back to me.

Not wanting to interrupt, I started to back away.

But Astrid saw me and said, “Rowan. Wait.”

I froze in the doorway when the blond woman turned around and I realized she was Jensen’s mother.

Same blue eyes. Same blond hair. Same stunning bone structure.

“Mrs. Lund has been waiting for you,” Astrid said.

Oh shit.

She unfolded from the chair, as graceful as a cat.

Her clothes whispered money as she started toward me. She wore a sleeveless silk shell the color of ripe peaches, the front embellished with beads and rhinestones. A sheer chiffon gold-toned blouse covered her arms and skimmed her hips, drawing attention to her trim waist. A band of satin hugged her hips, the shimmery mint-green fabric flowing into palazzo pants that ended above her ankles. Gold leather gladiator sandals completed the ensemble, making her look every inch the imperial Valkyrie—dressed like a goddess but the fancy wrapping didn’t mask the warrior beneath.

Her smirk—identical to Jensen’s—indicated her awareness of the imposing image she presented. Gold bangles rattled on her wrist as she offered me her hand. “I am Selka Lund. Jensen’s mother.”

I took her hand. “I’m Rowan Michaels. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lund.”

“Come. Let’s walk.”

And I found myself being ushered out of the office, the Valkyrie still gripping my hand as she smoothly linked her arm through mine and bent me to her will.

Of course no one was in the hallway as she herded me out the side door to the playground.

Jensen had installed a picnic table so the staff could sit in the shade during lunch and keep an eye on the playground.

She sat on the bench and patted the spot next to her. “Sit. We shall chat.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

She lifted one dark blond brow. “You are feisty? Or just contrary?”

“Both. It’s harder for you to put me in a headlock if I’m standing across from you.”

“Headlock.” Her lip curled slightly. “I have no UPC moves.”

UPC? What the hell? “You mean . . . UFC?”

“Yah. Whatever. I am harmless.”

I laughed. “I doubt that.”

“My niece Dallas tells good things of you.”

“You came to judge me for yourself?”

She shrugged a slim shoulder. “I don’t trust her aura voodoo stuff.”

Did she mean woo-woo stuff? I’d corrected her once already, so I kept my mouth shut.

“What do you think of this camp Jensen created?”

“I’m thrilled my son gets to attend, and I’m grateful to LCCO for stepping in and making the camp even better than it was before.”

“All Jensen’s ideas. He is smart. Big brain in that big body.”

I was not about to discuss Jensen’s amazing body that I knew every inch of with his mother. “But LCCO implemented the ideas. As you know, Jensen is uncomfortable taking full credit.”

“And you know my son so well? After how long? Two and one half months?”

There it was. “I’m guessing you’re here to ‘chat’ about my relationship with him.”

“You are friends, yes?”

“We were friends. Now we’re more than friends.”

She tilted her head. “My boy . . . first tells me months ago he only wants friends with you. You changed his mind?”

“No. He changed mine. But we wouldn’t be where we are now if we hadn’t been friends first.” I exhaled a nervous breath. “The truth is, Mrs. Lund, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a relationship. For the past six years I’ve lived a two-dimensional life. There’s my son and my work. At the end of the day, if I tuck my child in bed and he has a smile on his face, then it’s been a good day. I haven’t looked beyond having that because it’s been enough.” I paused. “Then I met Jensen. He showed me there’s more to me, to the life I—we—could have with him, while respecting the life I already have. So my two-dimensional world is now 3D.”

“He gives that to you. But what do you give to him?”

Wow. Mama Lund played hardball. “I ask myself the same thing. What does he see in me? He’s sweet and thoughtful. He’s funny. But he’s also bossy and used to getting his way. He’s so damn . . . tenacious. He had so much patience with me when I hesitated for us to become more than friends. He claims he knew it—I’d—be worth the wait. As a single mother, I’m overly cautious when it comes to bringing someone new into our lives. Because mine is not the only heart that gets broken if things end badly. My son’s would too.” I locked my gaze to hers. “Which is why Jensen is the first man I’ve welcomed into our family and our hearts.”

She studied me but said nothing.

That kept me talking. “I don’t blame you for questioning my motives. I’d do the same thing in your position. I don’t know what the future holds for Jensen and me. But I do know that I’ll fight to have a future with him because he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I only hope I’m doing as great a job raising my son as you’ve done raising yours.”

She slowly stood.

It felt like an eternity before she spoke. “You give him that.”

“What?”

“Acceptance. That he’s more than athlete. More than rich, bored playboy. More than man of looks, charm and muscles. You show him his true worth. A man who can love without limits in ways that even he didn’t know he was capable of.”

Tears pooled in my eyes. “You really think so?”

“I’m his mother. I know so. You see inside to his heart and soul. Not just outer trippings.”

I snickered. “You mean the outer trappings?”

“Yah, that.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lund.”

“Thank you for putting happy sparkle in my son’s eyes. Now we hug it out.”

The woman gave good hugs. And she smelled great.

She patted my cheeks. “No more Mrs. Lund, yah? Call me Selka.”

The door to the playground opened and kids rushed out. I stepped to the side and waved so Calder could see me.

He skipped over, happily singing to himself.

That familiar burst of love expanded in my chest. I crouched down to hug him.

“Astrid said you were out here, Mommy.” Then he noticed Selka Lund standing next to me. He tipped his head back and studied her.

“Calder, this is—”

“Hey, you’re Rocketman’s mom. He showed me your picture in his kitchen.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Do you really got your very own pool?”

She laughed. “Yes. With a slide and everything. Come over to swim anytime.”

Calder started to bounce. “Really?”

“Really and truly.”

“And you’ll make cookies? Jensen said you make the best Swedish cookies in the world.”

I started to remind him of his manners, but Selka spoke first.

“Of course. All boys need cookies.”

“That would be awesome!” He launched himself at Selka, giving her an impromptu hug. “I can’t wait to tell Jensen!”

When he stepped back, I noticed he’d left black smears on her pants. In three places.

Selka noticed too. She tried brushing it off.

In five seconds Calder had ruined a pair of pants that probably cost more than I made in five weeks. “I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning, and if they’re stained I’ll pay to replace them—”

“Hush.” Selka trapped my face between her hands. “Hugs from sweet boys are always worth more than fabric and thread.”

My jaw would’ve dropped if she hadn’t held my face.

“I miss messy little boys. This is happy reminder of those days.” She kissed my forehead and released me. She crouched in front of Calder.

He blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. How about you ask your mama if I can push you on the swings?”

“Really?”

“Really and truly.”

Calder looked at me. “Mommy, can I?”

“Sure. But we have to leave in ten minutes.”

Selka held out her hand, and I’ll be damned if Calder didn’t take it and start chattering to her like he’d known her for years as he skipped away. I said, “Unreal,” out loud.

“She has a way with little boys. Not surprising since we had three of them.”

A shadow fell across me. I turned and came face-to-face with Jensen’s father.

He smiled at me. “My wife wasn’t too hard on you, I hope.”

I smiled back. “She caught me off-guard, but it’s all good. Unless you’re here to play bad cop to her good cop?”

He laughed. He had a great laugh and now I knew where Jensen had gotten it. “I imagine Selka played both good and bad cop. I had no idea she planned to ambush you until my daughter-in-law called to tell me Mama Bear was on the prowl. So I’m here to bat cleanup.”

“You Lunds and your sports analogies.”

“Par for the course with all of us.”

“Omigod. Jensen gets his love of puns from you!”

He laughed again. “Guilty.” He offered his hand. “I’m Ward, by the way. It’s great to finally meet you, Rowan. Jensen hasn’t told me much about you, but his happiness the last two months tells me all I need to know.”

And . . . there was the charm my man had inherited too. “Jens and I are twin beams of happiness, according to our neighbors on the second floor.”

“So you and Jensen are out, loud and proud, as a couple?”

“Yes . . . and no. Jensen has lived at Snow Village longer than I have and he knows everyone. He claims they’re trustworthy, so we hang out at the pool and the playground with Calder’s friends’ parents. As far as us going out together? Either as a couple on a date or with Calder? Right now we’re content to stay home. I work all day and Jensen is dealing with pretraining stuff. We’re happy to flop on his ridiculously large couch and chill.”

“And here at camp?”

“The staff knows we’re . . . close. The kids don’t pay attention. It’s not like we’re even here at the same time most days. My parents know we’re involved, but they keep it to themselves.” Guilt hit me. I shot him a look. “Shoot. I’m sure Jens meant to tell you sooner—”

“He did tell us. But that was weeks ago and we’ve been out of the country. So now we’re back and Mama Lund tends to take matters into her own hands.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Now I’m going to sneak off before Selka gets back and chews me out for spying on her.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Hope to see more of you, Rowan.”

“You will. It was nice meeting you.”

When he reached the side door, I said, “Ward? Can I ask you something?”

He turned. “Of course.”

“What’s Jensen’s middle name?”

He laughed. “Ask his mother. It was her idea.”