“Sounds like a great story,” he says, his eyes sparkling with humor.

“It’s not. Unless that middle-aged man gets cocky with me when I get there.” I throw some punches into the air. “It might not end well for him. He’ll be the one mooing if he doesn’t watch it.”

Cole bursts into a fit of laughter. “Wow. Okay. I didn’t realize that I had a boxer on my hands.”

“That’s right.” I throw another punch into the air. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

He grins. “Fair enough. But what about judging a woman that ignores my texts?”

I drop my hands.

“I didn’t agree to text you back, you know,” I say. “I just said that I’d give you my number.”

“And technically you didn’t even do that. Val did.”

“Oh yes. My traitorous best friend.” I sigh, the stress of knowing that the Agnello situation is still hanging out there weighing on me. “Look, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but it’s . . . Let’s just let it go. Okay? I have a kid, and my life is just really, really busy.”

“As people’s lives are.”

Despite the fact that it makes it harder to walk away, I do appreciate his determination. Most guys bail when it’s clear they’ll have to put in any work at all.

Ethan honks the car horn. The sound makes me jump.

I sigh, walking backward toward my door. “It was good to see you. Thanks for throwing the ball with my boy.”

“Anytime.”

I give him a small smile and grab my door handle.

“Do you want to grab pizza later?” he asks.

“No.”

“Come on. Bring Ethan. It would be fun.”

Bring Ethan? No one has ever suggested I bring my son on a date before.

But then I recall the joy on Ethan’s face from Cole’s attention—letting Ethan develop a relationship with him would be even stupider than me falling for him. I know better. Ethan does not. My son is already smitten with him. I can’t set him up for heartbreak too.

“You’re sweet,” I say, still touched by the offer. “But no. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay.”

He stands in front of the car until I’m in the driver’s seat. Then, slowly, he starts jogging across the parking lot again.

What a freaking day.

I buckle up, check Ethan’s buckle, and then pull onto Main Street.

“Well, that was interesting,” Ethan says, poking around for information.

I laugh. “Ethan.”

“What?”

I look at his smirk-y grin.

“Hush,” I say, laughing.

He laughs, too, and for a moment, all is right in my world.

CHAPTER SIX

PALMER

You need to get to bed,” I say, ruffling Ethan’s hair. It’s the same color as mine—a soft reddish hue layered over a warm gold. “It’s getting late.”

He stays focused on the video game in front of him. “Well, technically, I’m supposed to be at Dad’s this weekend. So, technically, I should get to go by Dad’s rules.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. That’s gonna fly.”