Page 31 of Keystrokes and Kittens

He didn’t respond. Instead, he cast his eyes down and his mouth drooped.

Well, fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. What did I say?“Sam?”

“Mmm?” He blinked. “Sorry. Just a flash of a memory. I thought much the same thing after my first week of being responsible for Quinta. And was totally overwhelmed at the thought that she was just nine and I had years and years and years more of that ahead of me.” He cut a piece of pancake and dipped it in syrup. “I wasn’t fully recovered from my injuries—and so everything was tough. But I didn’t want Quinta in foster care any longer than she needed to be. We’d always been close. I mean, I was just ten years older and so we liked to hang and do cool stuff. I wanted to remain the cool uncle, but now I was facing financial decisions, parenting choices, and stuff I’d never even contemplated.” He put the piece in his mouth.

“Wow.” I scratched my jaw. “That sounds totally overwhelming. I can’t imagine taking all that on now—and I’m nearly forty.”

He shrugged. And finally met my gaze. “I don’t think age has that much to do with it. I mean, you have more life experience. But you haven’t had kids—” His jaw dropped. “Oh, God. I never asked if you had kids. I just assumed—”

I waved him off. “You assumed correctly. My wife and I couldn’t have kids. Just…one of those things. We turned our attention to our careers and dedicated a lot of time to cultivating friendships with other childless couples. Some were by choice and some were like us—it just didn’t work out. I will say that people feel free to make a lot of assumptions when they meet a married heterosexual couple with no kids.”

“That’s true. Just like people made a lot of assumptions about a kid, barely nineteen, planning to raise his niece. I considered adopting her because I wanted to give her that protection—so no one could take her away from me. We still get strange looks, though, because until recently, I didn’t really look my age, and she’s always looked more mature.” He sniffed. “I fought so many battles as her guardian. Against well-meaning people whothought they knew what was best for us. Well, fuck them. Oh, shit.” He pressed his fingers to his mouth and his gaze darted around the diner.

No one was paying us any mind. One of the reasons I loved Foggy Basin. We were just two guys having a meal. If people were making certain assumptions about us, that was on them.

I smiled. “I think you’re good. You had it rough?”

He nodded. “Lots of people questioned my ability to parent. I tried to point out that plenty of teenage parents raised great kids. And that Quinta had a head start because she’d had the best parents ever.” Again, he sniffled. “When I turned eighteen, Lucius and Marcella sat me down, and we had a long conversation. See, our parents were older. Like, I was a surprise baby when my mom was forty-five. And yeah, sixty-three isn’t that old…but my brother- and sister-in-law were inherently cautious people. They said they wanted to add me to their will as a potential guardian to Quinta—in case anything should ever happen to them.

“I thought they were nuts. Truly. But I loved them both, and so I sat there while they took me through their hopes and dreams for their daughter. All the things they hoped might happen for her. All the things they expected me to do. I paid attention. Mainly because I kept thinking there might be things I could do at that moment. Or that this was what true love looked like and maybe someday I’d be lucky enough to have a Quinta of my own.” He blinked. “I always assumed I would have kids. That’s just how we rolled in my family.”

After a moment, I reached out to grasp his shaking hand. “And you have a child—so to speak. Well, she’s grownup now. And from everything you’ve told me, it’s clear you did a great job. I’m sure your family would be very proud of you. It can’t have been easy.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his other hand to his forehead. “Nope. Not a single day of it. You’re right, though. I think they would be proud—of both of us. We got each other through a horrible period in our lives. We’ll never forget them…but the pain has lessened. I don’t think about them as often—and when I do, it’s remembering the good times. Not the horrible accident that stole them away from me. From us.” He opened his eyes. “Your food’s getting cold.”

I squeezed his hand. “Some things are more important than hot food.” I tried for a casual shrug. “These waffles are so good that I’d eat them stone cold. Same with the pancakes.” I grinned and, with some regret, released his hand.

After a moment, he smiled. “Are we taking a slice of bacon home for Tibby?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Hey, Soren.” A deep voice pulled me away from staring at Sam.

“Zane! Hey, how’s it going? I’m sorry I haven’t been in. I, uh—” I pointed at Sam. “Do you know Sam Mosley?”

For a moment, Zane appeared confused. His hazel eyes clouded. Then he smiled. “Oh wait, you run the pet store over in Hartsville.”

“That’s me.” Sam smiled.

“I run the feed store in town. I stock standard pet food, but if anyone needs something specialized that I can’t get, I send them to you.”

“Oh.” Sam smiled. “Thank you for that.”

Zane grinned. “I always want to take care of my customers—even if that means sending them somewhere else. Oh, I haven’t introduced Devin. He’s British, and I gave him a job.”

I gave Devin a once-over.

He was broadly built. A contrast to Zane’s slender frame. Devin had black hair and beard as well as soft dark-brown eyes.

So cute.

And the way Zane kept glancing at him.Is there more than the boss/employee relationship going on? I’d have to ask because I’m dying to know.I didn’t tend to meddle in other people’s affairs—because I certainly didn’t want them sticking their noses into mine—but I was very curious about this Devin fellow.

“Hey, our booth is available.” Zane gestured. “We’ll see you around? Nice seeing you both again.”

“Cheers.” Devin’s grin matched Zane’s as they headed for a table.

“Nice guys.” Sam sipped his orange juice. “Everybody’s so friendly.”