Page 68 of Playing With The Mountain Man

“You really don’t.”

“But I do. I never meant to keep River a secret. I just …”

I wasn’t sure how to explain it without sounding selfish. Because that was the truth. For a few days, I wasn’t River’s mom. Or Sean’s widow. Or even the owner of Rosie’s diner. I was me. Just me. Tillie Hooper. And for a short time, that had been enough for Cody.

Cody reached across and took my hand. “It’s okay,” he offered.

“It’s not,” I corrected.

“Tillie …”

“I should go. I need to get River dinner and check on him,” I told him, escaping. I shoved open the door and jumped out. “Thank you, Cody. For … well, for everything.” With my heart threatening to burst through my chest, I slammed the car door and hurried inside.

Chapter twenty-three

Cody

Isat in my truck, staring at the house, wondering what the hell just happened. Tillie was a mom. A mom with a son who was smart and fun and one who’d just called me out. Tillie may have kept a secret, and as desperate as I was to know why, I couldn’t find it in me to be angry at her. Not when I was just as guilty.

After a long moment, and with a plan forming, I shoved the truck into gear and headed down the street.

I returned less than half an hour later with a couple of pizzas and a tub of chocolate ice cream. The scent of buttery garlic knots filled the cab and made my stomach grumble.

I sat in the truck second-guessing whether this was a good idea, but the choice was taken out of my hands when the front door was thrown open, and River bounded down the path.

I climbed out and grabbed the pizza.

“You came back,” River announced cheerily. His cheeks were rosy, his hair damp. He wore what looked like pajamas, but it was the beaming smile that seized my heart. His mother already owned it, and River, with one smile, had just proven that my heart was big enough for both of them.

“I did. I just went to grab pizza. You do like pizza, don’t you?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

“Yeah.” River beamed, and I high-fived him.

“Mom was just in the shower. Come in,” River invited, but my head was already ten steps ahead. The idea, the image of Tillie naked and wet, had my pants tightening. It had been ten days since I had her in my arms and in my bed, and in my opinion, it was ten days too long.

“G-great,” I murmured, my voice catching in my throat.

I stepped inside their home, and it was exactly as I imagined. Colorful throws hung on the backs of the couches, and the coffee table was buried under piles of folded laundry.

“Can you find some napkins, River? And maybe some plates?” I asked, and River didn’t hesitate.

While he rifled through the kitchen, I cleared the coffee table and set the pizza down. My stomach rumbled at the cheesy scent, and suddenly I was starving.

“Here we go,” River declared, coming back into the room, trying to balance plates, napkins, and his oversized water bottle tucked under his arm.

I took the plates from his hands before he dropped them. Setting them down, I perched on the edge of the couch and opened the pizza.

“River, have you seen …” Tillie’s words died on her lips when she saw me sitting on her couch.

Tillie looked absolutely stunning. Possibly the most beautiful I’d ever seen her. Wrapped in a towel that barely reached the top of her thighs, her hair dangling down in long wet strands, and her face scrubbed completely free of makeup.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, tightening the knot in her towel between her boobs.

“I brought dinner,” I offered, pointing to the pizza and rising from the couch.

“I … I …” Tillie’s eyes bounced around like a pinball machine.

River chose that moment to reappear, carrying two glasses of water.