as though she was with someone special.
“I’d like that,” Tad said, and she tuned back in, realizing, too late, that Ethan had just invited him to their house over the weekend to learn how to play Zoo Attack in two-player mode, which meant that they’d be racing against each other to get puzzles solved to save animals.
Tad couldn’t come to their home. Ethan would ask, “Why not?” She could hear his voice inside her head, asking. No simple or credible-sounding reply presented itself. But the answer was unequivocal. He could not come into their home.
Home was her safe place. The only space she could be herself without fear...
“Jimmy from school is over there, Mom. Can I go play in the sandbox?”
She had to nod. To let him go. She wanted him to be independent. But she did not want, at that moment, to be left alone with a man who was getting way too far into her.
“This isn’t a thing,” she said as soon as her son was out of hearing range.
He nodded. “I know.”
“It can’t be a thing.” She was sounding like an idiot. Had to get herself together.
“You seeing someone, then?” Tad asked easily. She didn’t like how his total attention was suddenly on her. Eyeing her with some kind of understanding or something. She didn’t like how warm that made her feel.
She was hot enough already.
Tempted to lie to him, she hesitated. Santa Raquel wasn’t all that big. And her son’s conversational filters were sadly untrustworthy.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Coming off a bad breakup?”
That might work. Except that Ethan seemed unusually focused on her dating situation. Could it be that now that he’d started school, he was noticing they were missing a part of their family? Was he needing that male figure in his life? Granted, there’d be plenty of kids without dads at his school and some without mothers. But many had other family, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins...
She’d known this time of reckoning would come. Had worried about it to no avail—figuring she’d have to let the future take care of itself on that one.
“No, I’m not coming off a breakup.” She prayed he’d leave it there. Or that their food would arrive and Ethan, who always seemed to know when there were goods to shove in his mouth, would descend upon them once again.
When Tad glanced in the direction of the boys playing outside the sandbox with little cars Jimmy must have brought, Miranda guessed he was seeking a way out of their awkward moment, as well.
He looked so good, his dark hair, thickening shadow of whisker growth and brown eyes giving him a rakish aura in an oh-so-masculine form. She knew his legs were lean and strong. She’d seen them firsthand...and was he still wearing his blue boxers? Or had he showered since she’d seen him at work that morning?
“So you don’t date at all, or is it just me?”
So much for the idea that he was looking for an out. He’d just slammed them right smack-dab in the middle of too complicated.
“You’re only here for your leave.” She blurted what immediately came to mind, as though that explained everything.
He didn’t argue, and again she hoped she was off the hook. At least with him.
She still had to deal with herself and her deepening feelings for this man. And she would. She’d only known him six weeks. It wasn’t like it would take a lifetime to get him out of her system.
Unless... What if, for the first time in her life, she was really and truly falling for someone? As in...the real thing?
Of course, that didn’t matter in the long run. Her life wasn’t open to real. Her goal was to give Ethan a chance at a good life, a life of his own. He wouldn’t have to lie to anyone he met in his future. The life he lived now was his only known reality.
“You don’t ever talk about Ethan’s dad.”
“It’s not like we’ve had a lot of time for private conversation.”
Not entirely true. They’d fallen into the habit of having coffee after every High Risk Team meeting. At the moment, as the team became a stronger force in Santa Raquel and the surrounding communities, they were meeting weekly. And she’d volunteered to go in place of her employer, Max, every single week.
Partially because of Tad, she was ashamed to admit to herself.
“Ethan’s father is dead.” She dropped it out of the blue. There were some truths she could tell, at least in part. Clearly everyone would realize Ethan had had a father. “He died before Ethan was born.”
With no name, there’d be no chance to find a death record. To trace her to any young man who’d died during their last year of college. Or even to trace her to a particular college. Or to identify a girl who’d been friends with a boy who died. No way to discover who she really was.
“Wow. I’m so sorry.”
So was she. Jeff had been one of the greatest guys she’d ever known, and he hadn’t deserved the blows life had dealt him. “I miss him every day,” she said, allowing one more piece of her real self through. Jeff had been the only one who ever knew the whole truth about her. The only one in her past life she’d told.
“That had to be hell, to lose him and be pregnant at the same time.”
She shrugged. “You’d think so, but being pregnant, knowing that Ethan was part of him, and a new part of me, a whole new life... I’m sure that’s what saved me.” In more ways than Tad could ever imagine. If it hadn’t been for Ethan she might never have had the strength, the clarity of mind, to get away.
Jeff, who’d been a foster kid, had believed in her, trusted her to raise his child—even knowing the truth about her life.
Tad’s brows had been drawing closer together as she talked, giving Miranda the impression that she was coming on too heavy. She was suddenly aware that she wasn’t in their own little cocoon, with her son playing safely in the distance. Instead, she—and Tad—were in a noisy diner with Friday-night happiness going on all around them.
She tried to think of a way to change the subject.
But she didn’t manage before he asked, “How long did you know him? Ethan’s father?”
“Four years.”
“You were obviously close...”
Obviously. She’d had his son. Though not close in the way Tad would assume. “We were best friends.” And that was all they’d been. Friends. Not a “thing.” Best friends. With Ethan, she’d given her best friend his dying wish—a child who would always be part of him, carrying on a life that had been cut far too short.
“How long were you married?”
Her mind went blank. What did she say? Would the truth give her
