Until Talon (Until Him 4)

“Really?” Annie whispers before looking at her husband. “That’s amazing, isn’t it, honey?”

“Yeah, amazing,” he mutters, looking at his son when he reaches for him. He takes him from his wife and places him on the ground.

“He doesn’t have shoes on, Sam.” Annie glares at her husband before chasing after the boy and picking him back up to hold him on her hip once more.

Feeling the tension coming off the two of them, I say quietly, “I’ll give you two a few minutes to talk about it.”

Annie blows a chunk of her blonde hair out of her face. “Thanks, Mia.”

I nod and walk away, when all I really want to do is take her kids with me to give her a break for a few minutes. I sit at my desk and watch them continue to argue then jump when a shrill siren begins to blare. I grab my phone, the source of the sound, and when I look at the screen, my eyes widen as I read the tornado warning for the area. I jump up with my heart pounding, not sure what to do.

When I notice no one else reacting, I walk quickly to my coworker Scott’s cube when I see him at his desk. He holds up his finger when I pass through the door as he continues to talk on the phone.

“There’s a tornado,” I hiss at him, holding up my cell for him to see the screen.

He covers the mouthpiece of the phone and smiles at me. “’Tis the season. It’s fine, Mia, just a warning. You’ll learn they happen all the time.”

“Oh.” I rest my hand over my pounding heart, willing it to calm to normal as he goes back to his call.

I leave his cube and walk across the tile floor to look outside through the glass at the black sky and heavy rain. In Montana, we don’t have tornados. We have huge snowstorms in the winter, but besides that, we don’t normally have to worry about natural disasters. I guess this is just one more thing I’m going to have to get used to living here in Tennessee.

“Mia.” Annie touches my arm, and I turn to look at her. “Are you okay?”

Darn, she really is sweet. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I reach out to touch her son’s cheek, and he latches onto my finger with his little hand. “Did you and Sam have a chance to talk?”

Her chin drops to her chest, and she looks at her son, saying in that tone babies seem to love, “I think we’re going to wait a little longer.”

“That’s okay,” I assure her, tickling her son under his chin, and smile when he giggles. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She looks at me once more then at her husband, who is on his phone, with their girls a few feet away stuffing their pockets full of the snacks we have out. “I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t want you to feel like I keep wasting your time.”

“You can come see me every day, and I still wouldn’t feel like you’re wasting my time,” I assure her.

“Thank you.” She sighs when her son tugs down the top of her shirt so he can grab her boob.

“Mom life is no joke,” I repeat something my sister says almost daily.

She laughs, grabbing her son’s hand, then asks, “Do you have kids?”

“No, but my sister has three, and she’s a fricking rock star in my eyes. I don’t know how you guys do it. I can barely take care of myself and my two dogs.”

“Dogs are harder than kids.”

“I’ll have to agree to disagree with you on that one. I’ve seen the damage my three nieces can do in five minutes. While it takes my pups Mercury and Retro five minutes to get up off their beds most days.”

She laughs, lifting her son up to her shoulder, and he rest his little head there as his eyes fight to stay open. “Thanks for putting up with us today. I’m going to get him and my girls home.”

“Tell your husband to put the kids to bed tonight and take a bath or do something for yourself.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” she lies with a smile then shouts her girls’ names along with her husband’s. A few minutes later, the five of them run across the parking lot, trying to avoid getting soaked, and then I watch them squeeze into her tiny car.

As they drive off, I scan the still dark sky then pull my attention away from it when the doors to the dealership ding as they open. The first thing I notice is a blue Grateful Dead T-shirt stretched across a muscular chest, the short sleeves showing off a full arm of tattoos. My eyes travel up, and my heart skips a beat. I’ve seen good-looking men before. I’ve even dated a few of them. But I’ve never had a man make me want to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. I don’t know if it’s his sun-kissed skin, dirty-blond hair, chiseled jaw, the dimple in his chin, or his blue eyes, but the man with his gaze locked on mine looks like the kind of man you’d see on the cover of a rock and roll or Harley magazine. He walks toward me slowly, his boots sounding heavy on the tile floor, the sound putting me on edge. I shift uncomfortably as his eyes search mine like I’m somehow familiar.