“Sure.” But then she had to turn away, because tears had suddenly flooded her eyes. Merit shifted in his chair, and in her peripheral vision, she saw him push his sunglasses up while leaning forward with a frown.
“What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, tried to stop the tears, but then gave up and turned to him with an embarrassed, watery laugh. “Just another one of those sexy things about pregnancy. I cry at the drop of a hat.”
“Or me asking to read a book?”
His soft smile melted her heart, and she wiped her cheeks. “Yeah. Ian’s father…well, let’s say he had a very different reaction than you so far. He didn’t even want me to have Ian, and he signed his rights away the day he was born.”
“I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been. I’m sorry.”
“So was I, but mostly for Ian. It’s probably best he has nothing to do with him. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
“It’s his loss,” Merit murmured as his gaze met hers. “Big time.”
And maybe he’s not the only one who’s not the man I thought he was.
She swallowed hard at the intensity of his gaze, and when she lowered her lashes, she noticed the speck of orange under his ear again. She automatically reached to wipe it off, but caught herself just before her fingers touched his face.
He grasped her hand when she started to retreat. “What?”
The warmth of his hand engulfed hers, and she had to take a second to focus. “You have something by your ear.”
His brows drew together as he let her go. The kids were returning to the field and the whistle blew as he swiped his hand over his ear. “Did I get it?”
“No. It’s still there. It’s just below.”
He wiped again, and arched his dark brows.
“Nope.”
“Then you get it.”
He leaned in, and she found her gaze locked with his for a heart-stopping moment. Swallowing hard, she shifted her attention and reached up to swipe her thumb over the spot.
“It looks like paint,” she commented. “Where you using orange paint on something?”
He stiffened slightly and reached to replace her hand with his. “I, uh—”
A cheer went up on the field. Mae whipped around to see Ian’s teammates high-fiving him near the net. “Damn it. I missed his goal.”
She never missed his goals.
“I was told I’d get yelled at for saying words like that,” Merit murmured.
“You will if you say them in front of my son,” she retorted as she saw Ian looking their way. She hurried to give him the whistle, and he shot her a grin and a wave before running back to his spot in time to resume play.
Determined to keep her son front and center, Mae made sure to watch the rest of the game instead of getting distracted by the man beside her.
Chapter 11
Merit slung both chairs in their carrying cases up over his shoulder, then grabbed the cooler from Mae’s hand so they could switch to a field on the other side of the complex for Ian’s second game. He was having fun, even though she’d avoided looking at him since he’d taken a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure he got rid of all the paint.
Orange fucking paint. On his face.
Dipshit.
Thankfully, Mae either forgot about it, or she didn’t care enough to resume the conversation. Then again, the thought of showing her what he’d worked on after leaving her place last night gave him an electrifying jolt of excitement.