10WestonGoddammit. Bacon and eggs and blueberry muffins have never tasted so good. Scarlet piles bacon and eggs on her plate, fills a mug halfway with coffee and then tops it off the rest of the way with creamer. She dumps a spoonful of sugar in it as well, bringing her food over to the table. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and the loose strands that fall around her face are begging to be pushed back.
She’s wearing black leggings and a tight black T-shirt, with a loose-fitting red-and-black flannel shirt over top. She’s effortlessly beautiful and I can’t find a single thing about her to complain about.
“Blueberry muffins are cliché.” She reaches for one, setting it on her plate. “But it was the only kind I could make. You guys must like blueberries.”
I smile as I finish chewing a piece of bacon. “Jackson eats them like candy.”
“That’s good. Better than eating candy like candy.” She laughs at herself, realizing what she said. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do. And I agree. He’s always been a good eater in that sense.”
She picks up a piece of bacon. “I can relate to that.”
A few minutes of silence go by as we both eat our breakfast. It’s still gray and cloudy outside, but Scarlet is brightening up the whole room. “When does Jackson usually get up?” she asks.
“Eight-thirty or nine if he’s able. Usually when I work on a Saturday, I take him to my parents’ and have to wake him up early. He’ll be happy to sleep in today.”
Scarlet nods, finishing her bacon and eggs. She goes for the muffin next. “Are your parents retired?”
I shake my head, picking up the coffee. “No. My dad’s a contractor and my mom works with him running the office aspect of the business.”
“What do your brothers do? Are any of them cops as well?”
I laugh at the thought of Owen or Logan in uniform. “No. Dean works with our dad and Logan and Owen own a bar called Getaway.”
“In town?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty much the only good bar around here, and I’m not just saying that because my brothers own it.”
“I’ve only seen quite literally two blocks of this town, but I’m guessing there’s not much to it?”
“Eastwood isn’t huge, but we have more than you’d think…I think.” If she’s used to Chicago, then she’s not going to be impressed by our little town. “We’re not some podunk town in the middle of nowhere,” I go on. “If the weather clears up, I can show you around.”
She smiles. “I’d like that. Better get used to things here, right?”
I open my mouth but can’t make the word come out. It’s easy. One syllable. Right. But saying that one word feels like I’m saying a magic spell that seals our fate. She’s here. To stay. Which means there’ s a good chance of winning this race, which of course is the end goal. But that means being away from Jackson more and it’s suddenly hitting me like a punch to the face.
“Yeah,” I finally force myself to say and get up for a refill of coffee. Scarlet’s almost done with her muffin by the time I get back.
“You eat a lot for someone of your size,” I blurt, needing to fill the silence with something.
She smiles, finishing the last bit of her muffin. “I do a lot of bad things, and I think the guilt inside of me burns a lot of calories.” Her eyes meet mine and for a second, and I laugh.
“I didn’t realize that was the key to dieting.”
She winks. “It’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone.”
Still smiling, I clear my plate from the table. “Thanks for breakfast. Jackson will be thrilled to have bacon when he gets up.”
“Should I wake him up at any particular time?”
“No, you can let him sleep in. He might wake up when I go say bye to him.”
Scarlet gets that surprised look again. “That’s sweet you tell him goodbye.”
“I always do.”
She drops her gaze to her hands, blinking rapidly. I fill a to-go mug with coffee, fully aware of my caffeine addiction, though I think a caffeine addiction is almost a requirement when you’re a parent, let alone a single one.
Quietly, I go into Jackson’s room and pull the blankets back over him. The kid sleeps like an octopus and his pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals always end up on the floor.
“Love you,” I whisper and kiss him on the top of the head. “See you tonight, buddy.”* * *
“I have no idea where Jackson is,” Scarlet tells me, raising her shoulders in a dramatic shrug. The pile of blankets behind her on the couch moves and Jackson giggles from inside.
“Oh no,” I say back. “Where could he be?” Jackson laughs again, and I take off my shoes and stride to the couch. “I’ll go look for him after I sit down for a bit.” Perching on the edge of the couch, I slowly lean back against Jackson. “This pillow is lumpy.” I pretend to fluff it, and Jackson pops up from under the blankets.