Avenging Angel (Pounding Hearts 5)

“Twelve,” he corrects me after swallowing then he takes another big bite.

The entire footlong sub is nearly gone now.

“Yeah, definitely way too old to be my kid,” I say and pick up one of the salads.

“How old are you?” he asks, peering up at me curiously.

I waggle my finger at him and smirk. “You should never ask a woman that question.”

Rolling his eyes, he finishes off his sandwich then balls the wrapper up and tosses it into my little garbage can.

“How old do I look?” I ask as I peel the lid off the salad.

Eyes lighting up with mischief, he crosses his arms and leans back in the chair as he says, “I dunno, all you grownups look old to me…”

I snort and he laughs.

“But if I had to guess, I’d say thirty.”

I reach down, grab a plastic fork out of the bag, then wave it menacingly at him. “Thirty? Are you sure that’s your final answer?”

Uncrossing his arms, he holds his hands up protectively in front of him, but the mischief in his eyes spreads to the grin on his lips. “Thirty-five?”

“Why you little…” I mock growl, toss the salad to the side, and slide off the desk.

Casey jumps up from the chair with a giggle as I point the fork at him.

“I’m sorry!” he cries out as he moves behind the chair, putting it between me and him.

And as he looks at me, on the verge of another giggle, my heart swells with joy. It swells because all that anger he seems to be carrying around is gone from his face and he finally looks his age.

He finally looks like a happy twelve-year-old boy and not a child who was forced to grow up too soon and pretend to be a man.

I jump a little to the right and he jumps to the left.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats with another giggle. “I got it wrong. You’re forty!”

“Oh my god,” I cry out and stomp around the chair until he’s now the one standing in front of it.

“I’ll have you know I’m only twenty,” I say as I narrow my eyes and point the fork at him.

“Oh,” he says, his eyes going wide with surprise. Then that little mischievous grin returns. “You look soooo much older.”

I let out a little shriek and chase him around the chair again, his happy giggles music to my ears. “I’m so going to get you for that!”

We make it three rotations around the chair, with me purposely trying not to catch him, before he stops, giggling so much he’s nearly out of breath.

After grabbing his stomach, he gives me his best puppy dog eyes and juts out his bottom lip. “But I thought I was your hero.”

My phone suddenly dings behind me and the sound jolts me back to reality, but I manage to catch myself before I completely ruin the moment.

Bringing the fork up, I tap it thoughtfully against my chin. “That’s right, you are…” I let out a big sigh. “I guess I can’t hurt you then.”

I take a step back, then another, and wave at his chair. “You’re safe, my hero. I promise I won’t stab you with this fork.”

Casey eyes me suspiciously, like he’s not buying my act, and remains behind the chair.

“What? A big boy like you is afraid of a little old lady like me?” I smirk, goading him.