Next to Never (Fall Away #4.5)

But I just shook my head, knowing that was coming. He constantly argued. “I have to leave.”

“Then leave.”

I closed my eyes, groaning under my breath.

At five, he’d been a handful. At eight, a little bit of a nightmare. And now at ten? He was practically unstoppable.

I charged down the steps and across the yard, seeing Tate jump off the bike, because she, at least, still respected adults. “Stop with the attitude,” I bit out. “I have things to do, so I’m going to drop you at Deena’s. Get your backpack.”

“I don’t want to go to her house!” he yelled. “Tate doesn’t have to go to a babysitter!”

“Because Tate’s dad is home,” I argued, and I suddenly noticed the lawn mower had stopped.

Since it was summer, the kids didn’t have school, but Jared was still too young to stay home alone.

“Now,” I gritted out.

“You’re not even working today!”

“He can stay with us, Kat.”

I turned to see Tate’s dad coming into the street, wiping his hands on his shop cloth.

Well, that would be easy, wouldn’t it? And under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. He ate at their house at least once a week already and even spent the night a couple of times.

But no, Jared needed to learn how to follow directions.

“That’s okay. Thank you.” I evened out my voice, trying to calm down.

But when I turned back to Jared, he and Tate were gone, speeding down the street again.

“Jared!” I yelled again.

I looked at my watch. Damn it. I should’ve left a half hour ago. I wanted to miss the traffic.

“Honestly, Kat,” James spoke up again, “it helps me out. They entertain each other, and I can get some work done. I was going to take Tate out for pizza later. They’ll have fun, and he can spend the night.”

I looked back to Jared, following him with my eyes and wishing he’d stay away from the corner like I’d told him. What if a car sped around there?

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. My nerves were shot.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked, finally giving in. I couldn’t tackle my son today. If he was happier here, let him stay here.

James just smiled, another instance of his easy demeanor. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

He walked away, and I dropped my head for a moment, feeling defeated. Why couldn’t I fall for a nice guy like him? One who was single, an excellent dad who stopped everything for his daughter, and seemed to understand so much without my saying anything.

I was pretty sure he knew my story, and we’d barely talked. It was the look in his eyes sometimes.

He was the type who wouldn’t interfere and tell me I was neglecting my kid. He wouldn’t tell me that if I hadn’t gone out with my friends last night, I wouldn’t be tired and hungover today. He wouldn’t tell me how to raise my child.

He was simply there, picking up all the slack I left hanging.

Even if I were interested in him, though, I didn’t believe he was any more available than Jason. James’s wife had passed away last spring, and I got the impression he’d continue wearing his wedding ring for quite some time yet.

I made it into the city around four, and I’d dressed semi-causal, wearing a short black sleeveless dress, layered on the bottom half. I’d also left my hair down, kinky with the natural curl Jase liked, and all pushed to one side, over my left shoulder. The makeup was minimal, but I made sure to wear red lipstick and the perfume he liked. We were supposed to be going to Movie in the Park tonight, and he was taking care of the picnic and blanket.

Over time, we’d gotten into a routine. He knew what time Jared was supposed to be in bed, and he’d call me before he arrived to make sure the coast was clear. Sometimes I met him at his suite at the Waldorf in Chicago, but now he had an apartment there, so we used the suite less. He even let me decorate the apartment. To make it ours.

I could call him at work or at certain times when I knew he’d be alone, and sometimes I saw him a few times a week, and other times I wouldn’t see him for a month. It sounded terrible when I put in into words or tried to explain it to Deena, but the strange thing was . . . it had become normal. Somewhere along the way my expectations had shifted. They’d lowered, and my hopes had settled at a more realistic level.

Since his father’s death several years ago, his career had taken off, and he was at the top of his game. I took solace in the knowledge that “he needed me.” He loved me, right? So we stole our moments where we could, and when it was just us, everything was perfect.

And someday, hopefully soon, Madoc would be old enough to understand the divorce and accept seeing his dad with someone new.

I’d gotten my accounting degree years ago, I held down a decent job, and I had a lot to be grateful for. He’d given me a lot, and I knew I shouldn’t feel bad about demanding more from him over the years, but I did. Why did feel like I owed him?

Deena would ask why I stayed. Why I kept running back to him and putting up with it instead of finding a man who wanted only me. Why did I let myself be used in a way that made me so miserable?

And I always had to correct her. I wasn’t miserable.

I was deliriously happy.

Because I was irrevocably in love with him. I’d rather be unhappy ninety percent of the time just so I could feel what I felt with him the other ten percent of the time.