“He just said he’d come,” Ian argued.
Merit hesitated, then decided what the hell. She was already pissed at him. She couldn’t ignore him for a whole soccer tournament, could she? “There’s absolutely nothing I’d rather do tomorrow than watch Ian play soccer.” And spend time with his mom. He met Mae’s flinty gaze. “What time can I pick you two up?”
“We leave at seven-thirty,” his new best buddy said.
“Ian, go brush your teeth,” Mae grit out through her own clenched teeth. “I need to talk to Mr. Diamond.”
Mr. Diamond?
The kid didn’t move. “Are you mad at me for inviting him?”
She broke eye contact with Merit and squatted down. “Of course I’m not mad at you, Scoob. But you need to get a good night’s sleep if you want to impress him with a goal, right?”
That sounded like a good sign.
“Yeah.” A grin split his face as he darted up the stairs. “See you tomorrow, Merit!”
“Night, little man. Thanks for the help.”
But Ian had already disappeared, and one look at Mae’s glare told him he was still in deep Mr. Diamond shit.
He turned and started futzing with the lawn mower. One, he was a chicken shit. Two, if he stared at her in that tight, white, baby-doll T-shirt and cotton short shorts for too long, he was going to start drooling.
“We put on the new blade and the belt. I noticed you drained the gas and took out the spark plug, so I’ll take care of that before I head out. Then it’ll be ready to go when we get back tomorrow.”
As he talked, he was well aware she’d remained at the top of the stairs, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. And man, her breasts were a work of art that were almost worth sneaking a glance.
Almost. Because, yeah, he was a chicken shit.
“Merit.”
“Yeah?” He removed the block of wood that had been wedged under the wheel to tilt the mower up and reached for the gas can. When he realized she hadn’t continued, he paused and looked up.
The moment her gaze met his, she uncrossed her arms and descended the stairs. Each slow, deliberate step that brought her closer was punctuated by her low, firm voice. “Don’t ever use what Ian wants to get what you want again. Do you understand?”
He hadn’t realized that’s how it came across. His stomach plummeted so fast it made his breath catch. “Yeah. But I—”
“No.” She stopped two feet from his chest, a good eight inches shorter, yet somehow managing to make him feel small as she clenched her fists at her sides. “There are no buts. I’m his mother. What I say goes. You are not allowed to undermine my authority in front of him. Ever.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You haven’t raised him for the past six years. Alone. You don’t get to come in here and start taking over.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I’m sorry. Really. I just…I like the kid. And seeing him play sounded fun.”
Surprise flashed in her gaze, and she lost a bit of her bluster.
Recognizing he’d caught her off guard, he pressed forward. “It won’t happen again. Promise.”
Her lips pressed together at that last word. Someone had really let her down, hadn’t they? Ian’s father. The dumb fuck asshole who left her and gave up a pretty awesome kid.
“May I please come with tomorrow?”
She blew out a resigned sigh. “Be here at seven-thirty and you can follow us to the field. If you’re late, we leave without you.”
He’d prefer they ride together, but wasn’t going to push his luck. At this moment, anyway. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her nose wrinkled like Ian’s had. “Don’t ma’am me.”