Dana Nussio - Shielded By The Lawman

“There wasn’t a name at the top.”

“I just wanted to say thank-you. You know. For your work in the community.”

“Oh.” Well, she hadn’t announced that she found him irresistible, but it wasn’t the worst thing she could have said.

“Because I’d kind of overheard about your rough night.”

“Thanks,” he said, because there wasn’t much else he could say to that.

“I just wanted you to know that your work is appreciated. That’s all,” she rushed to add.

“And I appreciate your saying so.”

He would also be grateful for a graceful exit. Or an escape route of any kind. Everything made sense now. Her strange look when he’d arrived the night before. Charity, not a come-on. And the pie? She and Trevor had been in cahoots on that one. What kind of police officer added those measly clues up to a sum of romance?

“Well, thanks for clearing that up, but you probably need to get back to your tables.” His gaze lowered to the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she wore beneath her apron rather than a uniform, and then to the dusting of flour on her sleeve.

“Oh. You’re baking.”

“I do that in the mornings.” She cleared her throat. “And I should get back to it. Everyone seems to want cinnamon rolls instead of pancakes this morning.”

That she shuffled her feet then didn’t surprise him. He’d mentioned her baking again. But the way she wrung her hands and kept looking over her shoulder toward the restrooms and side kitchen door seemed excessive. How could she expect scrumptious desserts like hers to remain a secret?

“Can you blame them? They smell great.”

Her cheeks deepened to a pretty pink. “Do you want me to pack some up for you?”

Again, she glanced over her shoulder. Why she was so anxious for him to leave? Was she hiding something?

Then a door squeaked, and the answer to those questions ran out with a burst of energy and a mop of sandy blond hair he would have recognized anywhere. Aiden?

“Mommy, Mr. Mike said the oven timer—” The boy stopped midsentence. “It’s Mr. Jamie!”

He ran right past his mother and launched himself, his face landing soundly in Jamie’s stomach.

“Oomph.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, stalling for both a breath and the chance to absorb these new details. Sarah was not only a mom, but she was Aiden’s mom, and for some reason, she hadn’t wanted him to know either of those things. Why not?

“How’re you doing, buddy?”

Aiden beamed up as he eased him back, and Jamie’s stomach clenched. How could he have missed the resemblance before? Sure, he’d never seen them together since the babysitter rather than a parent always picked Aiden up from Kids’ Space. But even so. The child’s huge, almost impossibly light blue eyes were just like his mother’s. And his mother’s hit him like a gravel truck with a full load every time she looked at him. Which at the moment she was avoiding.

She spoke to her son instead. “Aiden, you know it’s not nice to throw yourself at people.”

Aiden took another step back, but his mischievous grin remained. “Sorry, Mr. Jamie.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll live.” He held his hands wide. “Hey, I heard you get to skip school today.”

“We had a day off, but Mommy made me come to work with her.”

“Yeah, moms are mean that way sometimes,” she murmured.

“You got to come to work with Mom?” Jamie slid his gaze to Sarah. “Looks like we have a pretty important someone in common.”

She finally nodded.

“And the note was really about this guy?” He gripped the giggling boy and rubbed his knuckles on that blond head.

“Yes, but I’d better—” She jerked to look down at her son. “Wait, did you say, timer ?”

“Mr. Mike already took out the pies,” Aiden announced.

Jamie could have kissed the kid. Sarah wanted to answer his questions about as much as a suspect in an interview room, but her son hadn’t learned the art of excuses and wasn’t helping her to escape. “That’s great that Mr. Mike helped you out.”

“Mommy, can we eat breakfast with Mr. Jamie?”

She shook her head so hard her dangling earrings jiggled. “Sorry, sweetie. I still have a few things to finish in the back.”

“You said we could leave when the pies were cooked.”

“Yes, I did.” Then she smiled. “So, we’ll finish and then leave right away.”

Aiden opened his mouth, but then drew his eyebrows together as he must have realized that he’d won. Or lost .

“But I want to stay,” he whined.

“Yeah, he wants to stay.” Jamie gestured with a tilt of his head toward the dining room. “And if the line out there has moved at all, I’ll have a table soon. You don’t want me to eat alone, do you?”

Jamie couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. They sounded more like something ladies’ man Nick or reformed womanizer Shane would say. Not him. He would have said anything then to convince her not to leave, but she was already shaking her head again.

“Please, Mommy. It’s Mr. Jamie.”

Her son’s words must have made the difference, because she dampened her lips and then nodded.

“Yay!” Aiden called out.

It was all Jamie could do not to shout, or at least grab the kid in a bear hug.

The boy slid past Jamie and scampered down the hall before turning back to them. “I’m going to go tell Mr. Ted.”

Sarah watched him go, her eyes awash with the kind of affection that a mother reserves for her child. Funny how Jamie wished she’d look at him that way.

She did look back at him then and caught him watching.

“He’s so full of energy,” she mumbled. “But then you already know that.”

“You’re right about that.”

Again, she glanced at her son, a watchful mother even though he was only twenty feet away.

“Thanks again for being so kind to my son. Making friends is always a struggle for him.”

“Really? I don’t know why. He’s such a great kid.”

“I wish the boys in his class could see that.”

Jamie brushed off her worries with a wave of his hand. “He’ll be fine. You worry too much.”

“What mother doesn’t?”

He had to give her that. His own parents had hovered over him for months after Mark’s death, even to the point of ignoring their own grief.

“Well, I’m glad I’ve gotten to know Aiden,” he said. “And I know a lot about him...if I can believe half of what a six-year-old tells me.”

She blinked several times. “Probably less than that.”

Her words were light, but her chuckle sounded strange.

“Okay, then, I’ll believe just 25 percent.”

She nodded, though from her look, she still wasn’t satisfied with that bargain. What didn’t she want Aiden to share?

“Then it’s good that we’ll be having breakfast together.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why’s that?”

“So you can tell me which quarter to believe.”

This time she smiled, and the slow burn he always felt when she was around edged up a notch.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she said.

“And while you’re at it, maybe you can do one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You can tell me why you didn’t want me to know you were Aiden’s mom.”

At the clink of the bells, Sarah startled, her head twisting toward the sound. Another group of customers had squeezed inside the diner’s entry area and were waiting for their fill of eggs, pancakes and breakfast meats.

For a moment, she’d almost relaxed. She couldn’t afford to do that. Not with Aiden sitting next to her, right out in public where anyone could see them. Not when her back was to the restaurant door as Trooper Donovan had taken her preferred seat facing the exit.