Page 7 of Broken Warrior
“But...” My brow lifts. He usually jumps at the chance to go to Zak and Theo’s place so why he’s hesitant I’m not sure.
“I was thinking maybe you could take me for a ride on your bike instead.”
Ah yes.
The never ending hope that I will make him into a bonafide patch before he turns five. As soon as James saw us all on our bikes the night Zak and Theo tied the knot, he’s been hellbent on going for a ride of his own. One with me, at that.
“There’s still a little snow on the ground, bud.” I sip my coffee and watch his shoulders drop. “As soon as the weather stays nice I’ll take you for a spin, but only if your mom says it’s ok. If we go out now it might be too slick and I don’t want anything to happen while we’re raising cane through town.”
“Ok.” He sighs, and fuck if that doesn’t make my chest hurt.
So I take a few more bites, look to Tate for permission, then say, “I need to give it an oil change, maybe a full tune up. If you want, you can help me out with that after we eat.”
His entire face lights up as those crystal blue eyes bounce between me and his mom. “Really? Can I? Is that ok, Mommy?”
Tate nods with a smile that does things to multiple parts of me. “That sounds fine to me. Just make sure you listen to Spider and do everything he says. No playing with tools unless he’s right there next to you.”
“Yes!” James pumps his little fist in the air and takes off toward the stairs.
“Put on your play clothes, buddy!” she calls after him. “And bundle up!”
I chuckle as I finish my plate then clear the counter. “He’s got so much damn energy.”
“I know.” Tate blows out a breath. “If I could bottle it up and sell it, I’d be rich.” She glances at me then starts washing the dishes as I set them into the sink. “Thank you. For letting him tag along. It means a lot to both of us.”
I feel around my pockets for my smokes, deciding to get a quick one in before I’m holed up in the garage with a four-year-old for a couple hours. “It’s not a problem. He’s a great kid. I like hanging out with him.”
“Your cigarettes are over there.” She nods toward the table by the back door and that’s when I catch sight of a tray sitting next to them, one with a plate of French toast, bacon, orange juice, coffee, and my mother’s pills.
Fuck.
I almost forgot about that.
“You think he’ll mind waiting a little bit?” I use my boot and prop open the door then light up. “Ma is having a rough day and I’ll probably have to wrestle her just to get the meds down.”
Tate finishes cleaning up the already immaculate kitchen then chews her lip as she faces me. She rarely looks me in the eye, but she at least faces me when we talk now, so I’ll take that as a small victory.
“I can... I can take her breakfast in.” She pushes her hair behind her ears then wrings her hands in front of her. “I thought maybe she’d let me give her a shower too. I’ve done it before, for a long time with... I have experience and I thought maybe if I tried— “
“No,” I snap, then instantly kick myself. “No, thank you. She’s in a foul mood today and I wouldn’t want you to be on the receiving end of any flying objects.”
Tate wraps her arms around her waist then repositions to fiddle with the belt loops at her hips. “I just thought maybe I could try. I heard her yelling and throwing things, and I know she’s refused to shower since Saturday. I just thought maybe she’d be a little more responsive to another woman or...” She bites her lip hard and blushes even harder. “Never mind. Sorry. It was silly.”
I watch her turn back to the sink and start scrubbing so hard she’ll probably strip the porcelain.
Fuck, man. I don’t want her to feel like I don’t appreciate every fucking thing she does for me, but I don’t want to take advantage of her being here either. I could use the help though, especially on a day like today when my mother has no fucking clue what year it is.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe my mother would be more receptive to a woman trying to help her right now instead of a six-foot-seven stranger that looks like a Scottish Viking ready to pillage the house.
“Ok.” I sigh, blowing my smoke out the door. “If you’re willing to try, so am I.”
The smile Tate gives me when she spins around, the one that lights up the whole fucking room and includes a few seconds of eye contact, fuck, that shit is worth every worst-case scenario she’s willing to face.
“I promise I know what I’m doing,” she beams as she rushes over and holds out her hand for the key. “You’ll see, this will be great. If she accepts my help then maybe I can do it more often, take a little bit off your shoulders every now and then. I’m not trying to overstep but I want to help and I appreciate you giving me a chance to do that.”
With a grin I couldn’t stop if I tried, I drop the key into her hand and sigh. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. If she doesn’t hit you over the head with a lamp before she kicks you out, I’ll take that as a win.”
