At her warning, her son swallowed and then tried again. “Sorry, Mom. But you said I could if I finished my breakfast.” He pointed to the yellow and white mess on his plate, where he still had some work to do.
“Looks like it’s going to be just us two then.” Jamie reached across the table to give the boy a high five.
Despite the warning bells that should have been clanging in her head, she couldn’t resist smiling at the man who’d befriended her son. He was kind, unassuming and—What was she doing? It didn’t matter that he was easy to like. Too easy in her case. Jamie was a cop. If she had any sense, she would steer clear of him.
“Can you believe I’ve never even tasted your mom’s famous cinnamon rolls?”
Aiden’s eyes were wide. “No way!”
“They’re not famous,” Sarah said before she could stop herself.
She tucked her chin to her chest, hoping her cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. Over the top for a tiny bit of praise. Her dream of opening her own bakery was a lifetime ago, anyway...when she’d still foolishly believed in happily-ever-afters. She was nobody’s fool now.
“Maybe not, but they’re always all gone before my friends and I come in at night.”
“Well, Trooper Donovan... I mean Mr. Jamie...”
When he grinned at her, a tiny dimple that she hadn’t noticed before appeared in his left cheek. The flutter in her tummy took her by surprise. She ruthlessly shoved thoughts about that dimple and the laughter in his eyes aside to consider later. Or never.
“How about just Jamie?”
Because it was easier than meeting his gaze when he was making her so nervous, she turned to her son instead. “He’s a grown-up, so he’s still Mr. Jamie to you.”
“Your mom’s right about that.” Jamie gestured toward Aiden. “Come to think about it, though we’ve been first-name buddies at the center all year, I still don’t even know your last name.”
“Aiden Thomas Cline,” her son announced importantly.
The pulse thudding in Sarah’s ears nearly drowned out his answer. Of course, he’d said “Cline.” That and “Aiden” were the only names he’d ever known.
“Cline, huh? I like that.”
Though he was speaking to her son, Jamie was looking right at her. The skin on her forearms positively tingled, so she crossed her arms and covered them with her hands. What was the matter with her? She hadn’t felt so unsettled around a man since... No, she wouldn’t think about that now.
His gaze lowered to her arms, but he didn’t comment on them.
Sarah pushed her chair back from the table.
“Looks like you’re almost finished, so how about I package some rolls to go? There’s still a line over there...”
Jamie waved a hand to brush off her suggestion. “Our waitress can get those. Anyway, weren’t you just getting ready to answer my question from earlier?”
“Oh. Right.” Ignoring her rushing pulse, she slid closer to the table again. She still didn’t know how to answer him, but she refused to do it in front of her child. “Sweetie, why don’t you go wash off your face, and then you can have your cinnamon roll.”
“Okay, Mom.” He hopped up from the table.
Good thing his first-grade logic didn’t make him wonder why she would send him to clean his face only to make it dirty again.
When the restroom door closed, she turned back to Jamie, the answer rushing from her all on its own. “I’m not ashamed of being Aiden’s mom, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“Sorry.” Jamie’s hands came up in surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”
She wanted to ask him just what he had intended to do with a question like that, but she couldn’t encourage him to ask more. He knew enough about her already.
“You’ve met all the guys you work with, right?” She paused, waiting for her words to settle. “If you were a single mom like me, would you want any of them to know details about you? Including your last name?”
His jaw tightened the way it had the night before when his coworkers were joking about her. When he’d defended her.
“Point taken.”
“Then we’re agreed.” She took a bite of her cold toast and managed not to wince.
“If you ever need me to talk to the guys and make sure they remember their manners around a lady, I’d be happy to.”
“No! I mean I can handle it. They’re not half as bad as some of the guys who come in here.”
“Those must be some real bottom feeders if they’re worse than Vinnie and Nick.”
His jaw flexed again, and she somehow managed to keep from smiling at him. Again. Wait. Wasn’t it bad enough that she was enjoying a man’s compliments about her baking? And noticing his dimples? Now she was allowing herself to be flattered by his protectiveness. His offer to “talk” to his friends should have been reason enough for her to grab Aiden and sprint through the nearest emergency exit. What did it take for her to learn to steer clear of men who communicated with their fists?
Because she couldn’t afford to dredge up memories she’d tried so hard to bury, not when this guy already had her balancing on shifting ground, she waved the waitress over.
“Evelyn, would you mind packing up two cinnamon rolls for us? Two boxes.” She pointed to Jamie and then to Aiden as he reached his seat.
Aiden’s smile fell. “But I want Mr. Jamie to come over to play.”
From the word, play, she started shaking her head.
“Grown-ups don’t have play dates.” So why did the thought of playing with this particular grown-up send shivers up her spine? This had to stop. “Besides, just because you have the day off from school doesn’t mean that everyone has a day off.”
“Your mom’s right again. I have to go to work in a few hours.”
“In your police car?” Aiden planted his elbows on the table with his face nestled in his hands, excitement dancing in his eyes.
“Absolutely. I might even get to use the siren today.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Will you take Pancake with you?”
“Pancake?” she asked.
Aiden sat taller in his seat. “That’s Mr. Jamie’s cat. She’s orange-brown.”
“Nah, she prefers to stay at home and take catnaps,” Jamie told him.
“Who names a cat Pancake?”
“Somebody who loves...” Jamie began.
“Pancakes!” Aiden filled in for him.
They both pointed to Jamie’s clean plate as the busser whisked it away. Sarah could only look back and forth between her son and the cop. How could Aiden know so much about Jamie? And if he did, just how much had Aiden told him?
She shoved her chair back so quickly that it toppled over and hit the floor as she stood. She jerked it up and held her breath while it wobbled and then settled. “Too much coffee this morning. Anyway, I should see how Evelyn is doing with those cinnamon rolls.”
The waitress emerged from the kitchen, carrying two white paper bags. She handed the first to Jamie as he stood.
“Now, sweetie, you’ll want to warm that up when you’re ready to eat it.” She gestured