Free Sacred Hart by A.M. Johnson

my shoulder. “You’re a good mom.” He squeezed my shoulder gently and then released me from his grip. My pulse rushed as my heartbeat sounded loudly in my chest, and I was grateful he had turned away. I was grateful for the distance he afforded me because I was too close… and I was afraid he’d hear or sense what his touch was doing to me.
    “Thank you,” I spoke quietly, the two words were shaky.
    He opened the fridge and pulled out a large white plastic container and set it on the counter. “It can’t be easy raising her on your own. This guy, Adam…” His jaw clenched and his brown eyes darkened. “I’d never abandon my daughter.”
    It was a declaration, and the intensity of the truth resounded in each syllable with an undercurrent of some unspoken pain. I wanted desperately to know this man. This man who stood before me now with conviction and pride. He swallowed deeply, and the firm line of his broad shoulders fell, his eyes cast down as if the burden of the one statement had been too much.
    “Will you let me help you this time?” I took a few steps forward and he raised his head. I’d asked him the question in regards to lunch, but when he finally met my gaze, the pain in his eyes pleaded for me to throw him a lifeline.
    He nodded and turned away from me again. We didn’t need to speak as we prepared lunch. It was enough he was actually allowing me to help. After that first Sunday, he never let me make lunch again. I wanted to ask him questions. I wanted to know about his life before he came here, but I knew if I asked, he’d pull away, and I was finally making some headway.
    Beth had chosen for us to sit at one of the booths near the window so she could watch the raindrops race along the surface of the glass. I tried to sit as close to the wall as possible, but Ryan’s large form took up a lot of space. He sat comfortably and seemed at ease with his thigh resting against mine. Beth was chattering about boys at school, and how they wouldn’t let her play with them at recess. Ryan offered her some sound, yet shady advice and she giggled. Kicking boys where it hurts wasn’t a practice I preached, but what did I know. I’d joke and he’d laugh. It all felt so familiar, and the perfection of the moment made me wish the invisible boundary line between he and I would burst into tiny fragments.
    Beth yawned and leaned her head back onto the green vinyl of the booth. “Are you tired, Little Bee?” I asked, and Beth nodded. Her head rolled forward and then backward dramatically.
    “Would you hate me if I left you with the last two dozen?” I scrunched my nose and furrowed my brow.
    His chuckle made me grin. “Don’t look so worried. I’ve done this on my own before, once or twice.” He placed his hand just above my knee with a gentle grip and my lips parted with a soundless intake of breath. The heat of his touch saturated my senses, making it impossible to speak. His mouth pulled to the side into that flawless crooked smile of his. “I think I can handle it.”
    He removed his hand so he could hold the table as he shifted his body in order to stand. I exhaled a whispered breath and tried to tamp down the question that was niggling its way into my brain. Did he do that on purpose or was he on autopilot?
    “When we get home will I have to take a nap?” Beth’s brows narrowed seriously, and I pursed my lips.
    “Maybe.”
    “Aw, Mom, can we watch a movie? That’s just like resting.”
    “I’ll think about it. Get your jacket on while I help Ryan clean.” I stacked the bowls and then picked them up.
    “You don’t have to clean up. I got this.” He took the bowls from my hand.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Just say, thank you, Maggie.” His glare was almost comical.
    “Thank you.”
    Ryan placed the bowls on the counter as I pushed my arms through my raincoat and then pulled my bag over my shoulder. “One of these days you should come to our place, let me wait on you for