Saxon's Soul (Haven, Texas 5)

“Yes,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Call the police first then me.”

“But why?”

She heard him take a deep breath in then let it out slowly.

“I don’t mean to keep questioning you. I just don’t get why you care.” She meant nothing to him. Other than a short conversation when she’d spilled expensive scotch down his shirt, he’d never even noticed her.

“Yeah, you and me both,” he muttered.

They both fell silent after that. By the time they reached the cottage, the sun had almost set. The lights were on, and, as soon as they pulled up, the front door opened and her mother appeared on the porch.

“Well, shit.”

He turned, one eyebrow raised. “How do you go eight hours at work without swearing at a customer?”

“I imagine them all with big hairy moles on their faces,” she muttered.

“What?” He spluttered out a laugh. “That’s imaginative.”

She shrugged. “Puts a smile on my face. The other day, Mrs. Sanders had one right on the end of her nose.”

“I couldn’t imagine it happening to a nicer person.”

They shared a grin, and it was almost normal. Not a word she’d use to describe him. Then she glanced back to where her mother was marching towards the car.

Well, fu—fudge.

“Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you around,” she said.

“Wait there, I’ll come around and open your door.”

“No need. Bye.” Yeah, she was being rude but the last thing she needed was him sticking around. She quickly jumped out, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“Where have you been?” her mother demanded. “You’re late. I’m supposed to start work in twenty minutes. I’ll never get there on time now. I’ve looked after your kids all day and I don’t even get a few minutes to myself.”

Work, right. If it could be considered work to sit in a bar and make illegal bets.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said tiredly, knowing it was better than arguing. “Are the boys in bed?”

“Yes. Can’t keep them awake just to see you.”

Misery filled her. She already felt like crap for not being around enough. For not being the mother they needed. For not providing them with more than this crappy cottage over their heads and her caustic, selfish mother as a babysitter. At least she didn’t drink while she was looking after them. Aspen checked the house regularly for booze. When she wasn’t drinking, her mother was a mostly-decent human being. She knew that at the first sign she was neglecting Caleb and Jamie, Aspen would kick her out. She had nowhere else to go and her “work” lost her more money than it brought in. Especially since she drank away any winnings.

This wouldn’t be forever, she promised herself. Somehow, she would give her boys a better life than she’d had.

“Where’s the car? And who’s this?” Suddenly, her mother started preening. She pushed out her chest, which was pointless considering her boobs were practically non-existent, and patted back her thinning, badly-dyed hair.

Aspen tensed. She turned to discover that, rather than leaving, Saxon had climbed out of the car and was now leaning against it.

Shit.

She gave him a smile. “Thanks for dropping me off, I’d invite you in—”

“Thank you, I’d love to come in.”

She glared at him. He knew full well she’d been going to brush him off and had invited himself in anyway. Damn smug jerk.

“Well, Aspen, aren’t you going to introduce us?” her mother’s two-pack-a-day voice had dropped to a purr.