He gave a quick laugh, reminded by what he’d said on Friday night. It felt good, really good, to make him laugh. For once, I said something right. He angled his head. “This is my friend Rob.”
“Everyone calls me Thor,” the other man added, his voice deep. He held up his hands. “I’d shake your hand, but you probably would rather not.” Streaks of mud and sweat covered his palms.
I could see why he got the nickname. He had two inches on Gray, making him a giant. Football linebacker big. Hot dog eating contest winner huge. Dark hair, dark eyes, square jaw, goatee.
“I like your team spirit,” he added. “Looks better on her than us, don’t you think, Gray?”
I frowned, confused. He pointed to my tank top. Glancing down, I realized my shirt was also black-and-white stripe.
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to be accused of rooting for the other team,” I countered with a smile then shrugged as if it were no big deal. “This is my neighbor, Simon.”
Simon shook Gray’s hand and nodded at Thor.
“Hey, wow. I didn’t recognize you at first, but it’s a pleasure,” Simon gushed, practically ogling Gray. “How are you enjoying retirement?”
Simon knew Gray? Brant Valley was a pretty big town, so what were the chances?
Gray glanced at me as he answered. “Getting better every day. Everyone usually goes to the bar down the street after the game for some burgers. Want to join us?”
Simon looked to me to answer. He was waiting for me to decide if he was still needed or not. Since he and Gray seemed to know each other, he’d probably want to tag along, but he seemed to have the wingman thing down. He gave me a little head nod, and I knew he was giving his personal green light on Gray.
This was it, the moment between a life of normal and a life of… God, I could only imagine. “I’d like to go, but Simon has something to do.”
Simon smiled broadly, clearly thrilled I was content to not need him to tag along. If I'd said otherwise, Gray would blatantly know Simon was sticking around for me, and that would only be more embarrassing. Besides, it would make Gray think I thought he was a letch or something, and I needed a chaperone, which was the farthest thing from the truth.
“Yeah, I have plans,” Simon said, but no doubt, everyone knew he was lying through his teeth. “Another time, however. Definitely.” He turned to me. “Do you want me to take your car?”
I paused. “Oh, um. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I’ll drive you home later,” Gray offered.
Simon raised a brow, waiting. Pulling my keys from my little purse that I had slung cross-shoulder, he took them, gave me a wink, then grabbed the blanket and cooler.
“Thanks, Simon,” I called out as he left.
He spun and replied as he walked backward. “Anytime.” He gave a little salute and turned.
Gray watched me closely, silently.
“I’ll have to catch up with you,” Thor told us. “My wife’s going to kill me if I don’t get home. Kids,” he added, as if that clarified everything.
“How old are they?” I asked. This was a topic I was familiar and comfortable with.
“Four and six. Boys.”
I nodded, a little wistful. It was at rare moments when I longed to see my son, to hear his voice, even to have him little again. “I remember that age. It’s hard.”
Gray looked to me, his face neutral. “You have kids?”
I nodded. “Yes, a son.”
By his look, I couldn’t tell if he was okay with this or not. Some men wanted a woman with no strings attached, and a child was a big string. A guy with kid issues was an obvious deal breaker for me. Chris might be in college, but he wasn’t going anywhere. This wasn’t a real date, so it wasn’t as if Gray was going to end it. It hadn’t even started.
Thor gave me the look of a suffering parent. “Then you can understand.” He ran his hand through his goatee. “The babysitter comes in an hour, so Laura can join us at the bar. A few hours of just grownups.”
“I’m past the babysitting stage now,” I shared. “Some things get easier.”
His smile slipped and looked as if I’d kicked his puppy. “Only some things?”
I laughed at the forlorn look on such a brute of a man. “Only some things.”
“How old is your son?” Gray asked.
“Eighteen.”
Both men stared at me, stunned. Thor's mouth even dropped open.
“Eighteen? Holy hell, woman,” Thor said. “You were just a baby when you had him. Is he a senior this year? Can he babysit?” His look changed to eagerness at the idea of a possible babysitter.
“I was twenty, so not much of a baby. And no, he’s in college.”
“They actually leave the house?” Thor sounded very eager for the idea. Toddlers were insane and exhausting, and he was probably questioning his reasons for having them in the first place right about now.
I patted him reassuringly on his sweaty arm, the muscle beneath my palm rock hard. “They do, but it’s hard now that he’s gone. My job is done.” I tried to keep my voice light, but I’m sure it sounded wistful.
“Where does he go to school?” Gray questioned.
“Naval Academy.”
“Very impressive,” Thor added. “You must be really proud of him. Look, I’ve got to go, or Laura will bury me in the backyard. I’ll catch up with you guys later?”
Both Gray and I nodded, and Thor jogged off.
People were packing up and leaving, the two of us almost the only ones left on the field from the game. “So…” I let the word hang as I glanced up at him, unsure of myself, of standing in the middle of an empty field with him. Had it been a bad idea to come after all? “Do…do you still want me to go with you?”
He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I looked down at my bright pink toenails, swiped my foot over the blades of grass. “I’m a mother.”
Leaning down, he looked me in the eye, and I had to meet his steady gaze. “From what I gather, a pretty good one.”
The compliment made me smile although somewhat shyly. I had to know where he stood because I could walk away now with only a dent in my pride. I knew if I spent much time with him, there was a chance I could be truly hurt. “That’s not going to change. Being a mother, I mean. Does that bother you?”
“If you said you had a five-year-old, it might. Not because of the reasons you think.”
I lifted my chin, waiting. I’d wanted honesty.
“I had a shi—bad childhood, and I’m not a good bet for little kids. I’d break them or damage them mentally. Something. But if your boy is at the Naval Academy, he sounds more like a man to me. I doubt I can ruin someone that old.”
Those weren’t the words I expected. Too much baggage, too much effort for someone else’s kids, perhaps. Lots of possibilities. But I never thought he'd say he was flawed, damaged enough that he wasn’t worthy. To me, from the little bit I knew about him, that didn’t seem possible.
The conversation had gotten heavy pretty fast, so I just nodded and moved on. “You can say swear words. I promise I won’t make you wash your mouth out.”