Maeve clasps her hands together in front of her face. “Do you have a horrifying story that has stunted your love life as well? That’s how this has to go. That’s how I rationalize not canceling this dinner. It’s what makes it acceptable. Total transparency.”
Snuffing out an entertained breath, I shake my head. “I don’t think my horrifying trumps yours, but, ah, it’s pretty life changing.”
Our food arrives. Another strike for the waiter’s impeccable timing. I stare at the burger in front of me and realize I’ve lost my appetite. Not because Maeve picked out something I don’t like, because Rena. I’m going to have to tell Maeve. There’s no other option after what she just shared. This woman deserves more than anything I can concoct on a whim, everything I speak has to be the truth. I must have sensed that when I first saw her. She resides above my bullshit altimeter.
Maeve is chewing a huge bite of burger looking at me with wide eyes. She swallows, blinking slowly twice. “I’m waiting.”
Keeping it simple is best. Who knows where this will go, if anywhere. Knowing what she’s been through with Rexy should be a red flag waving high, except her siren call is too loud to ignore. “Turner’s mom left us when he was a newborn and never came back. Turner hasn’t seen her, nor has she made contact with me in any way since the day she left.” Sighing, I eat because that’s preferable to saying anything else.
“That is actually pretty horrifying. I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you,” Maeve says. “Turner is a wonderful child and she’s missing out.”
More silence because I don’t know what to say.
“He’s lucky to have you as a dad, Lincoln. I can tell he loves you a lot.”
The sympathy. I fucking hate the sympathy because it’s for something I have no control over, and it makes me crazy.
I shake my head. “Because he doesn’t know what he’s missing yet,” I hiss. “It’s why I can’t do casual.” I meet her steely gaze. “You understand? Temporary isn’t something I want him to experience any more than he has to. Especially with my mom leaving soon...” My words trail off because I’ve already said too much. “She’s helped me with him.”
She nods, a thoughtful look on her face. “When you’re away from home, what will you do with Turner?”
My throat feels thick and my stomach churns. A feeling I hate. A feeling that only seems to surface when I’m thinking about Turner’s well-being. No one tells you that being a parent is like having your heart walk around outside your body, in a dangerous war zone that you can’t protect them from. “That’s the kicker. I’ll figure it out. Like I do everything else.”
She picks up her burger and continues eating. Like I didn’t just let the most complicated part of my life flap in the wind. Maeve is thoughtful, I can tell she’s debating which route to take—the firm upper lip, sympathy, or maybe she’ll ignore the obvious.
“Your mom will take Turner if something happens to you… like permanently happens to you?”
“Well, that’s morbid,” I say, breath lodging in my throat. “I don’t usually talk about my last will and testament on a first date.”
“We’ve established this is not a date, so everything dirty is on the table.”
Grimacing, I exhale. “When you put it that way.” I push my plate away and pull the glass of water toward me. I drink then nod. “My mom will take Turner if I bite the dust.” It’s not ideal, not in the least, but it’s the only good option that would give Turner stability.
“You don’t think his mom would come back into his life if she knew you weren’t around for him?”
I drink another long sip of water, and meet her waiting gaze. “No. She’s incapable,” I deadpan. “I wouldn’t trust her with a pet rat, let alone the most important person in my life.”
She nods. “Understandable. That makes sense.”
“Can we not talk about the horrible things anymore?”
Maeve turns away, inching her body away from mine. “That’s why at his first appointment you said Turner doesn’t open up to women.”
I heave a sigh. “Yes.”
“Your mom is babysitting him now?”
Narrowing my eyes, I try to read into her line of questioning. “Yes.”
“And you won’t do casual, even if Turner doesn’t know you’re seeing someone… casually?”
Her eyes widen when she senses I’m catching on. Something in my face must have given it away. “Are you suggesting something, Dr. Ahern? Might as well tell it to me straight.”
It’s there—that incessant draw to her. It doesn’t seem to weaken no matter how much time we spend together or even by awful, depressing conversation. It feels like another person sitting between us yanking our collars together. I want her to say that she wants me. That she craves what I crave. If she says it, I’ll be validated at the very least. At most? I’ll have a monumental problem on my hands. Resisting her has proven to be impossible this far.
Maeve nods at the burger. “Are you going to eat that?”
I don’t take my eyes off her face. “If I say no?”
“I’ll think you don’t like cheeseburgers, and if you don’t like cheeseburgers, you can’t be trusted.”
“And if I do eat it?”
She lifts and lowers one shoulder. “We’ll be here longer,” she says, taking another bite of hers.
“Why would that be a problem?”
As she chews, she levels me with a knowing look. She swallows and as I watch her neck work, I get a goddamn hard-on from the innocuous movement. “Lincoln, we both know this isn’t going to go away without being proactive. You don’t want casual, and I respect that, but does that negate other things? Your mom has Turner. Ramona isn’t at home tonight, she left for some art retreat in the mountains as soon as we got home.” She sips her water and pushes the glass away, and then when I
