Page 47 of Heated Takeover

“Jamie, police officers don’t beat people up,” Natalie says, walking over with a beer in one hand and a juice box in the other.

“No, but I do,” Tuck says, and I shake my head.

“Sorry about that,” Natalie says, handing Jamie the juice. “We just got here and Ash, I mean Jamie, had to go potty. Then he was thirsty, and I was thirsty, and this place has air conditioning… but not a lot of places to sit now that I look around and…yeah.”

I nod slowly, but not because I didn’t hear everything she said. I heard it all. I’m hung up on why she just called him Ash. Unless she got our names mixed up, but that’s unlikely.

“Yeah,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. It’s not that I am uncomfortable; I’m not. It’s just that it’s a little weird seeing her in full mom mode on a Saturday. Especially since this is a coincidental encounter. When we walked in here, I never in a million years expected to see her little boy run up to me. I mean, this is a totally random bar near a festival with a gazillion people; what are the chances?

She does look amazing though, which doesn’t help. Her hair is up in a messy bun on her head, wrapped around itself multiple times to make up for length. She’s wearing a dark green dress that looks like an oversized t-shirt. It does nothing for her, and yet, it’s sexy as hell, though I couldn’t tell you why.

Maybe because this is what she wears, what she looks like, when she’s just living her regular, everyday life.

She’s also wearing black and white old-school Vans. I can’t help but wonder if she was an alt kid in her high school days.

“So, what are you guys up to?” she asks.

Tuck and I answer at the same time, obviously with different responses.

“We just got here,” he says.

“We were just leaving,” I say.

Fuck.

Tuck laughs and Natalie bites a smile, her eyes landing on me, waiting for an explanation.

“Actually,” Tuck says as his phone buzzes. “I do need to head out. I just got a call.”

“From who?” I snap.

“An old buddy is in town. I have plans. Forgot. Sorry,” he says, standing up. I want to yank him back down onto the stool. He is the one who dragged me to this after all. I also don’t want to look flustered by everything, so I say nothing. I just shoot him a look, and he quietly excuses himself, beer in hand and phone pressed to his ear. A hundred bucks says there’s no one on the other line.

“So which is it?” Natalie asks, sipping her beer. “Did you just get here, or are you just leaving?”

“I’m going to head out after I finish this beer,” I say, which is still full. She notices it.

“You should hang out with us,” Jamie says, tugging on my pant leg.

“Oh, I don’t think Mr. Ashford wants–”

“Why not?” Jamie pouts. It’s not a bratty face, just sad. Then, to add to the guilt I am already feeling, why do I feel like that? He says, “We’re fun…”

“Jamie, sweetheart, Mr. Ashford is a very busy and very important man and–”

“I’ll come with you,” I say, surprising even myself.

Natalie’s eyes land on mine, and Jamie starts to dance around, rattling off all the things he wants to do.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks.

“Why not?” I ask. And I am pretty sure we both know why not. But here we are, doing it anyway, just like everything else we do.

We finish our drinks while Jamie runs around on the brewery astroturf, and then we make our way back into the chaos. Except this time, Jamie is tugging on my hand.

“Sorry,” Natalie says, looking a little uneasy or embarrassed, or something…about it. “He’s not usually this forward. Especially with men.”

“Is he around a lot of men?” I ask, not intending for it to sound any kind of way.