Page 51 of Lost Trust

He looks back down at my son.

Then at me.

Then back at Ryder.

“Um …”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Five years ago, Royce and I had spent two spontaneous nights together. Two thrilling nights of escaping the pressure of the circuit life. Getting lost in each other.

And judging by the expression on his face, his brain has just connected a few dots that absolutely do not need connecting.

I lean closer, lowering my voice so only he can hear. “Don’t worry.”

His throat bobs.

“Another bull boy’s regret. Not yours.”

His chest collapses in relief. Then he gulps in a lungful of fresh air.

Once he’s recovered the ability to speak, his forehead creases.

He mouths the word silently. Regret?

I shrug. It’s meant to be indifferent.

My fingers drift through the ends of Ryder’s soft hair, smoothing the loose strands beneath his ridiculous hat.

“Long story.”

Royce’s gaze follows my hand.

Something shifts in his expression. The teasing from moments ago disappears, replaced by something softer.

“You want to dance?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Dance?”

That cocky grin returns, and he nods to the people who are twirling in step in front of the band.

“It’s a party.”

“Yeah, Mommy.”

I glance down. A set of blue eyes is looking up at me expectantly, and my heart skips for a different reason. Because Ryder is the best thing that ever happened to me.

He isn’t a regret.

Not even close.

But the man who gave me my beautiful little boy?

That’s a different story.

“You think I should dance with him?”