When I Need You (Need You #4)(39)

"How old is her son?"

I felt my mother's gaze boring into me, but I ignored it. "Calder is six."

"Almost the same age as Mimi. This kind of camp would be good for her."

I kept it to myself that I'd planned to ask Lucy, Mimi's mother, to help out. "So what's the next step? Do I get my volunteers lined up while you secure the venue?"

"That'd be best. Swing by at the end of the week and we'll see where we've gotten to."

I stood and skirted the corner of the desk, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Aunt Priscilla. You put the awe in awesome."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Now shoo, you charmer. I'm behind schedule."

Out in the hallway, Mom had me by the arm again and towed me into the conference room. She planted herself right in front of me. "You tell me everything about this Roman, Jensen Bernard Lund."

"Rowan. Not Ro-man or Ro-nin. Her name is Row-an."

"Fine, yah, whatever. This Row-an. Did she demand you help with this camp?"

My tiny bit of amusement vanished. "No. I offered to help her."

"Why?"

"Because that's the way you raised me."

"Do not." She paused and exhaled, but her laser-focused Mom gaze never left mine. "Do not treat my concern for you as a joke."

"I'm not. But don't assume that I'm a sucker for every beautiful woman with a hard-luck story either."

She blinked as if that hadn't occurred to her. "I'm sorry." She placed her hand on my chest. "Ever since you were little boy you have a soft heart. Now grown man, hard body, but still soft heart."

"Softhearted doesn't mean I'm soft in the head," I said gently. "Trust me, okay? Rowan and I are friends. She's raised Calder on her own and done a great job because her son is a sweet boy. I saw how much he looked forward to the camp and knew I could help them and the other families who were affected."

"So you spend time with them?"

I'd opened myself up for that one. "Occasionally." 

"Because you are . . . friendly with her."

"Yes. And she's a Vikings cheerleader."

"Which one?" she demanded as if she knew them all.

"She has red-"

"The redhead high kicker is your Rowan?"

I really had to watch the stadium tapes and see Rowan in action if my mother was aware of her cheerleading skills. "She's not my Rowan."

"But you want more than friends with her?"

"She breaks all my rules."

"Rules," she scoffed, "are made to be beaten."

"You mean broken."

"Yah. Whatever." She smirked at me. "You didn't deny the desire to be more than friends because you cannot lie to your mother."

I had lied to her more times than I would ever admit, but that wasn't the point. "It doesn't matter what I want. Rowan doesn't date athletes."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"Calder's dad was a football player. He's not in his son's life at all. So Rowan has rules too. Can we please drop this?"

"For now." She offered me a dazzling smile.

My gut clenched. That smile meant she was up to something. "What else?"

"I wish to meet this Rowan the redhead and her sweet son."

If she thought I'd argue about that . . . she'd be wrong. What better way to prove Rowan and I were just friends than to act like introducing her to my family was no big deal?

You are kidding yourself. It is a huge deal.

Shoving that thought aside, I said, "Sure. Next time you come over we'll wander across the hallway for introductions."

Another suspicious Mom laser-eye probe.

I smiled at her. "So we're good?"

"Yah."

"I'm off to start recruiting volunteers. But don't warn any of the Lund Collective I'll be hitting them up for this favor, okay?"

"Surprise them like Jack-in-box-popping up at worst time?"

"Something like that." I kissed her forehead. "Later, gator."

"Bison."

I laughed because my sweet, slyly funny, meddling mother also put the awe in awesome.

As I approached the receptionist's desk, I realized Astrid wasn't scowling at me for a change. "Hey, Astrid. I need to make an appointment with Aunt Priscilla on Friday."

"Already done."

"Thank you. Sorry if I messed up the schedule today."

"I shifted a few things around. Not a big deal." Then she smiled at me.

What the hell? I'd never seen that before.

"But if you're truly feeling bad, I'll let you make it up to me."

Not this. Before I pulled out the standard "I'm one hundred percent focused on getting my career back on track with zero time for dating," she spoke-but it wasn't to hit me up for dinner.