Change of Hart(14)

“Hey, Addison,” I said, stopping her before she could climb in. She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. “I really enjoyed talking with you today.”

She smiled that smile again. “Me too, Jason.”

I cleared my throat. “I’d love to take you to dinner some time. Just the two of us. If you’re interested, that is.”

Addison’s back immediately stiffened and the smile fell off her face. Her eyes widened almost like she was in fear. “Um . . . I, uh . . . ,” she stammered before taking a deep breath. “I’m flattered. But no. No, Jason. Just . . . um . . . no.”

She climbed into the car without another word, not even so much as eye contact, and drove away. Leaving me standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering how the hell I had read those signals so wrong.





“Mmmm . . . ,” I said, raising my head up, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I heard a giggle to the right of me and opened my eyes.

“Mommy, he said, ‘Mmmm . . .’” Emma laughed. I just smiled and winked at her, taking another bite of the roast Lindsay had made and moaning again just to make her laugh again.

“It’s good,” I defended playfully. “Don’t you like your mama’s cooking, Emma?”

At five years old, she was already the spitting image of her mother. From the hair to the eyes. Even her sarcastic personality. She was a cute kid. She and Jaxon would get along really well. That is, if Addison ever let me see Jaxon again. I wasn’t really sure after the way our visit ended over the weekend.

“She loves when I make roast and vegetables,” Lindsay said. “She just eats really, reeeaallly . . . sloooowly . . .”

I finished chewing and reached my fork over to Emma’s plate, getting ready to snag a carrot.

“Well you’d better hurry up, Emma, or I’m gonna eat yours, too!” She squealed and quickly speared the carrot, shoving it into her mouth.

I looked at Lindsay and winked before digging in to my own food again.

“Seriously, Lin, this is really good,” I said again.

Sam, Lindsay’s husband, grabbed the bottle of Merlot off the table and topped our glasses off.

“You do realize you can make it yourself, right?” Sam said playfully. “It’s been sitting in the slow cooker all day. It’s not like she actually cooked for you.”

“Thanks a lot for blowing my secret, babe,” Lindsay said sarcastically, taking a sip.

“I don’t care how it was made,” I said, shoveling another bite in my mouth. “I haven’t had a meal like this in forever.”

“Mommy, I’m done,” Emma said. I looked over and saw that her plate, which had been full just seconds ago, was empty.

“How did she do that?” I asked.

“That’s all you, buddy. Still so charming you can get the ladies to do just about anything,” Lindsay teased. “You gonna try to get her to do your homework next like you used to do to Katie Woodrow? She always fell for it.”

Sam laughed and pushed his chair away from the table. “I’ll take her upstairs and get her ready for bed now that she’s done. Come on, Emma.”

I swallowed my last bite and put my fork down on my plate as Sam and Emma walked up the stairs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lin. I’m not that big of a player.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a large drink.

“Really,” Lindsay said, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Name one girl you’ve shown even the slightest bit of interest in who rejected you.”

“That’s easy. Nina Randolph.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“Why not?”

“That was in the sixth grade! You didn’t even play football yet!”

“So what?” I defended. “I had a big crush on that girl and she turned me down flat! You know that!”

Lindsay snorted. “If it makes you feel better, she spent all of high school pining over you and telling me how you were ‘the one that got away,’” she said, making air quotations.

“What?” I asked. “How come you never told me that before?”

“Because she was an idiot who only cared about her reputation,” Lindsay said, standing up and piling all the plates together. “She was only upset because she missed out on dating the star athlete and all the notoriety that went with it. Besides, she was a whore.”

“Which was exactly the kind of girl I was into back then,” I argued, gathering a couple of serving plates and following Lindsay into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t have minded showing her what she had missed out on.”