“I do.”

My eyeballs nearly fall out of my head.

“What?” he says, frustration thick in his tone. “I do, Palmer. Just because I don’t baby him all the time—”

“Jared!” I say before catching myself and lowering my voice. “You don’t see him with any regularity. You don’t pay child support. You don’t—”

“I signed him up for baseball.”

“Oh great. Another thing for me to manage. How kind of you.”

He scoffs. It’s not the sound that snaps something in my brain. It’s the face he makes.

No, it’s the familiarity that I have with the gesture that breaks me.

I’ve seen him do this so many times—for years, even. I hated that he did it to me, and I hate even more that he does it to Ethan. No one is more important to Jared than Jared himself.

And nothing I can do or say will change that. I’ve tried.

“You know what?” I say, backing away slowly. “Run Robbie to Cleveland. Have a great rest of your weekend.”

“Really?”

I shrug. “Sure. I’ll take care of it because I always take care of it.”

He pops the transmission into drive, ignoring my dig at him. “Tell E that I’ll get him tomorrow.”

“Sure.” I won’t because I won’t let you disappoint your son twice in one weekend when you don’t turn up tomorrow afternoon.

“Great. Later, Palm.”

He makes a wide turn around me in the direction away from Ethan. Naturally.

I growl, my irritation exceeding a healthy level, and start toward my car. And then stop.

My eyes zip immediately to the figure jogging down the sidewalk. Cole’s eyes are already on mine as my gaze connects with his. He grins, switching his trajectory toward me instead of across the road.

Oh, good grief. Not now.

His hair is damp, his muscles taut as he moves smoothly across the parking lot. His sun-kissed skin glistens with perspiration, and his sweatpants cling to his body in a way that should be illegal.

A gold chain with a round gold emblem bounces on his delicious pecs as he comes to a stop in front of my car.

I’m not strong enough for this today.

“The benefits of living in a small town.” He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Guess it makes up for the lack of cell service.”

The text.

I’ll ignore that.

“Are you all right?” he asks, the gold chain catching the sunlight. “You seem kind of pissed.”

“Because I am pissed.”

“Anything that I can help with?”

The question catches me off guard. I blink rapidly and try to pull my thoughts together.

“No. Just an ex that decided to be a total douchebag today—which really isn’t unlike the other days of the year. Today just has a little special sauce on it.”

A drop of sweat drips from the ends of his hair onto his shoulders.

Ethan steps gingerly out of the car. “Mom?” He looks back and forth between Cole and me.