Free Not Your Hero by Anna Brooks Page B

how ashamed I am. It kills me that I can’t give him a dad. But what choice do I have? Take Matt to court to force him to see his son? With what money?
    “I bet Sam would help us,” he whispers as he falls asleep.
    “What?”
    “Sam would help us if there was a bad guy. Wouldn’t he?”
    “Yeah, honey.” I kiss his forehead. “Sam would help us.”
    * * *
    A typical Monday morning, I’m running around the house to get everything ready for the day. I forgot to make Ben’s lunch last night, so I throw random items into a lunch box, hoping the school doesn’t send home a note about how he didn’t have a balanced lunch . . . again.
    “Hurry up, Ben! We’re running late.” I tie my shoes as I hop to the door.
    “Okay! I’m ready.” He runs to the door and opens it for me, then yells, “Hi, Sam!”
    Crap. I’m a total mess right now, my hair is all ratty, and I’m not wearing any make-up. My plan was to drop Ben off and put my make-up on in the car before getting to the grocery store without actually having to have a conversation with someone. I quickly put my sunglasses on. At least that’ll help hide the bags under my eyes.
    “Hey, little dude.”
    “Can I play on your phone in the car, Mom?”
    “Sure. Here.” I hand it to him and he runs to the car.
    Sam stands in front of me and watches Ben get in the car before turning his focus to me. My throat becomes dry when he puts his fingers in the front waistband of my black work pants and pulls me close to him. He’s so masculine; he makes me feel like a teenager when he gives me attention.
    “Take your sunglasses off,” he says with his husky voice.
    “What? Why?” I laugh.
    “I want to see your eyes.”
    I’m embarrassed that I look like such crap, but whatever. He might as well get a good look at me like this now because this is how I look half the time anyway.
    “Okay.” I pull them off and tuck them in my back pocket.
    He leans closer and lowers his voice. “I’m sure you don’t want Ben to see me maul you, so you need to lean forward and kiss me.”
    “He’ll still see,” I answer, breathless already.
    “No, he won’t. I’m blocking you.”
    “I . . .”
    “Court, I’m hanging on by a thread here. I need you to grab my shirt and pull yourself up, so I can get a taste of you before you leave for the day. Or,” he tilts his head, “I can be the one to grab you, but I’m not sure I can control myself if I get my hands on you.”
    “Oh. Well, umm-”
    I take too long because his hands slide up from my waist to under my arms and lifts me so my face is level with his, toes an inch from the ground. Holy shit.
    “I’m an impatient man, babe. Fucking kiss me.”
    I try to make the kiss quick, friendly even, because my child is about ten feet away. Granted, all of his attention is on the game he’s playing on my phone, but still, he could look up any second.
    Sam bites on my upper lip, softly tugs, and then slides his tongue into my mouth. We both let out a moan, and after a minute, I pull back. He watches my face; his eyes roam over every inch, a kind of softness I’ve never seen from him, transporting this sexy man into one I could easily fall in love with. When he’s had his fill, he gently sets me down, then takes my bag and my hand, and walks me to the car.
    I think about that kiss all day. I messed up a couple of orders at the store and drove through a stop sign, but somehow, Ben and I made it home safe and in one piece.
    I’ve put Ben to bed and poured myself a glass of wine. I take out my folder of debts and pull the latest bill out.
    St. Mary’s Hospital. Eleven thousand four hundred twenty-two dollars and twelve cents.
    This is taking forever to pay off. The hospital worked out a payment plan with me, and I do what I can every month. I’ve cut the debt in half, but it seems like the minimum never goes down. I grab my checkbook out of my purse and write out a payment for one hundred and twenty-five dollars. That’s all