Page 25

“Sam, honey, make sure your backpack is ready,” I call out.

He comes running in, fully dressed in jeans and his Harley T-shirt. “It is, Mom. Sarah and I made sure last night.” He gives me another smile before bouncing his way from my room. I’m not sure what I would do if Sarah ever left the area, or decided that watching a kid full-time was cramping her twenty-year-old lifestyle. She’s a Godsend.

Making my way to the kitchen, I pour my second cup of coffee, then grab the creamer from the counter, I make sure it’s the perfect shade of tan. The warmth of the mug beneath my hands brings a smile to my face. I close my eyes, relishing at the moment. A knock on my door has my eyes snapping open. I set the mug down and glance at the clock. Croy is twenty minutes early. That’s not his usual. I love the guy, but being on time or even early isn’t one of his strong suits. I flick the deadbolt open and pull on the handle. My stomach drops.

“Hey.” I take a step to the left as I close the door slightly.

“Morning,” Hawk says as he hands me a white bag. From the grease spot forming in the corner, I already know what they are.

“You remembered?”

“It’s kinda hard to forget when you had to have a donut before school every single morning.” His mouth lifts slightly, making him look younger than what he is. His boyish features seem to be more prominent this morning.

“Thanks.” I drop the bag to my side. “What are you doing here?” Just as the words leave my mouth, a little hand digs its way between my leg and the door, trying to pull it open.

“What’s going on in there?” Hawk cocks his brow, and he tries to look around my body.

“Who is that, Mom?” Sam grunts next to me.

Hawk stops moving, a flash of surprise crosses his face. Losing yet another battle, I drop my hand from the door as Sam tugs on it again. I feel him start to stumble backward, but I grab him before his bottom hits the carpet.

When the door opens, Sam appears. He’s not shy by any means. He’s a confident little boy and the fact that he’s standing not next to me but in front of me with his small chest puffed speaks volumes.

“Who are you?” he asks Hawk.

Hawk doesn’t hide his smile. “I’m a friend of your moms. The name’s Hawk.”

Sam juts out his hand, waiting for Hawk to shake it. “Well, aren’t you going to shake my hand? My mom says real men shake hands.”

Hawk takes Sam’s hand and gives it a couple shakes before dropping it. “Your mom’s a smart lady.”

“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me.”

“Hey—” Hawk starts but stops when Sam darts past him.

“Croy!”

My son jumps up just as Croy leans over and picks him up, growling as he swings him from side to side. “Hey, little dude. Are you ready to kick some serious ass in school today?”

“Croy, the language,” I scold him.

He walks up, crossing the grass with one arm folded towards his head and Sam hanging from it. He barely gives Hawk a glance before he addresses me. “It’s not like he doesn’t hear it at school, T. Kids aren’t anything but little fuckers nowadays.” Sam giggles as he still hangs from Croy’s arm.

“Honey, go grab your stuff.” Sam drops from Croy’s arm and takes off in a sprint into the apartment.

As soon as Sam’s out of earshot, Croy points between Hawk and me. “Everything okay here?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I tell him.

“You’ve popped up twice in the last ten hours,” he tells Hawk.

“And?”

“No, don’t even start. I don’t need a testosterone filled pissing match at 7:30 in the morning. Hawk, this is Croy, my friend, and boss. Croy, this is Hawk, a childhood friend.” Neither of them makes an attempt to shakes hands, and I’m not going to try to rectify that situation.

“I’m ready,” Sam yells from the house, and he comes barreling towards Croy again. Without any effort, Croy sweeps him up and deposits him on his back.

“Kiss your mother goodbye,” Croy reminds Sam as he leans over so I can plant one on my son.