Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

And with that, he walked out, taking all the air in the room with him.

Ryan was as infuriating as he was sexy, refusing to listen or take no for an answer. I was torn between wanting to be annoyed with him and wanting to jump his bones. Why was that alpha-male behavior so damn sexy? Or maybe it was only sexy because it was coming from him? I had no idea, but Grant clearing his throat reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

“That was . . . interesting.”

“That was something, all right.” I struggled to catch the breath Ryan had stolen with his speech.

Grant studied me, searching my eyes for answers. When he found none, he pursed his lips. “I’m going to get serious with you for a moment.”

Curious, I pulled up the lone chair in the room and sat down. “Okay.”

“It’s obvious that boy likes you. I can see it in his eyes, and it’s more than just seeing you for how pretty you are. He’s genuinely interested, and he’s right . . . you keep pretending like you’re not. Why is that?”

Did I want to confess all my insecurities and fears to this man I barely knew? Someone who would probably repeat everything I told him to the one person I was trying to keep all of this from?

“I can’t tell you. You’re on his side.”

Grant let out a hearty laugh. “His side? Hell, I’m on my side. I want you all to myself, but that knucklehead is stubborn. He won’t quit. So, tell me why you dislike him so much.”

I sucked in a breath, wondering how much I was comfortable sharing. As a young single mom, I learned early on to keep the fact that I had a child to myself. The silent judgment that came after that confession was something that chipped away at me a little more each time it happened.

Guys didn’t want to date girls like me; they wanted to party and be obligation-free. Dating someone with a kid was the exact opposite of that. The second most men found out that I had a son, they usually bolted, or made up some lame excuse to stop talking to me as quickly as they had started. It was almost as if I’d grown two heads the moment they learned the truth.

The worst part was that I’d started to believe there was something wrong with me . . . that my having a kid was a bad thing.

So I’d stopped telling people I had one.

I convinced myself that it was to keep my private life private, but the truth was tha

t it was to keep me from feeling small and insignificant. It shouldn’t have bothered me what people thought about me, but it did. All the glances at my left ring finger, which was clearly ringless, weighed on me. The wary look in people’s eyes when they learned I was a single mom. There was never a positive response from anyone. No, they were always feeling sorry for me, judging me, or wanting to commiserate in some way.

So I kept my guard up.

The truth was that my son made me a better person. Matson was the best damn thing to ever happen in my life, and any guy who couldn’t see that didn’t deserve to be in it.

And this was exactly why I hesitated to tell Grant. He’d tell Ryan, and there was no way that Ryan would want to be a part of my life when he learned about Matson. I couldn’t imagine him thinking that my son was anything other than a hindrance, and I refused to put myself in that situation again, no matter how charming the guy was. I’d rather be alone forever than with someone who couldn’t see our worth.

“Was my question that difficult?” Grant said, breaking through my self-imposed trance.

“No,” I said with a smile. “It’s not that I dislike him, necessarily . . . I don’t even know him, but I’ve heard things. I’ve seen things. Ryan’s just not my type.”

“I thought Ryan was everyone’s type.”

“He thinks so too.” I rolled my eyes.

“Did something happen between you two before? Was he rude to you? Do you want me to fight for your honor?”

Giggling at the mental image of Ryan and Grant going at it, I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “He wasn’t rude to me. But if you want to fight him just for fun, I’m not sure I’d stop you.”

“Would you cheer me on?”

“Hell yes, I would,” I said far too enthusiastically.

He gave my hand a quick squeeze. “I know you’re keeping things to yourself, Sofia, and that’s okay. You don’t owe me anything. And I’ll deny saying this if you ever repeat it, but you might be wrong about that boy.”

Swallowing nothing but the air that seemed to thicken around us, I nodded, refusing to believe that could possibly be true. I supposed I could be wrong about Ryan, but I’d bet money that I was right about him not wanting to date a single mom.

“I don’t think I’m wrong.”