Helping Sarah

Chapter 16

Sarah

A smile spread over Michael's face. "I would love to. Thank you."

I smiled back. Then tried to temper it. And the flutters that were stirred to life, but it was only a half-hearted attempt. I didn't want to temper my reaction to the sight of my son with this kind man with the warm, strong arms and hard chest. That reaction was exactly what I needed, the security his presence offered me.

I couldn't face being alone right now, not with Lenny somewhere close by. I would be staring out the window the entire evening and night, waiting for a rock through my window or someone hammering on my door. And I wouldn't be able to hide my fear from Charlie.

Between the choice of frightening Charlie and having the man I was finding it increasingly difficult not to react to here, the man I had hugged so tight without asking for his permission, it wasn't difficult to choose.

"Do you need to call your girlfriend or wife to let her know you're here?" I asked Michael. For some reason the question suspended the breath in my throat.

"No need, I don't have either."

I almost cackle-snorted at his reply, but his expression, the calm in his voice, told me he wasn't joking.

My lips parted. Lisa always said all the good ones were already taken. So how could this generous, handsome man who made me feel safe by just being near and who was kind to Charlie be single?

"You never told me the name of your dinosaur." Michael looked at my son and gestured to the stuffed toy Charlie was clutching under one arm.

"Abby," he said proudly, holding up the dinosaur for inspection. "Grappa give me her."

Michael blinked. "Er, what's a Grappa?"

"Charlie's grandfather gave him the dinosaur," I translated as I picked up the jar of jam that had rolled under my chair. Thankfully it hadn't splintered.

"My Grappa and Gramma," Charlie grinned. "Grappa give me tjoklat and I get new bed in my room soon 'cause I'm big boy. And dinesau covers."

Biting back a smile at Michael's somewhat stunned expression as he tried to follow Charlie's words, I stood and picked up the other groceries that had scattered on the floor when the shopping bag had toppled and let Charlie wallow in our male – very male – company.

With no father, he didn't have enough of it, I knew that. I tried to be both mother and father, but he needed someone to mirror himself in, someone who was able and interested in rough and tumble games. There were no male teachers at the nursery, Benji was not a young man anymore, and Charlie's uncle, Ben, had a busy life in London though he visited as often as he could.

If there was ever a reason for me to start dating again, that would be it; Charlie's need for a man to look up to and learn from. It would, however, need to be someone I trusted utterly and completely before I would even consider introducing said man to my son.

Placing the milk in the fridge, I glanced over my shoulder just as Michael looked up. He smiled at me, but then had to concentrate on the small boy before him who had fetched a book and was, by the sound of it, telling the entire story from beginning to end.

But that brief look, that smile, was enough to make the flutters stir even higher. They had stirred the moment I'd opened the door and found Michael outside, had taken flight when he'd held me tight and made me feel safe again. My fear had just been too crushing for me to notice them then.

Not so now.

Now, I couldn't ignore them.

One of my hands landed over my stomach, and I bit my lip to contain my smile. Then glanced over my shoulder at the man and boy, and my smile only grew. How was it possible Michael didn't have a girlfriend or wife?

He was kind and handsome, strong and protective, and, as I now knew first hand, perfectly formed to snuggle up against.

My hand curled and then fell to the worktop. I chewed the inside of my lips and made another attempt at curbing the flutters. I shouldn't have done it; the hugging him and letting him hold me. Michael was still a relative stranger, and I was supposed to be a strong and independent woman perfectly capable of raising my son alone. I wasn't a lachrymose watering pot who needed to be rescued or comforted or to hide behind a man.

The last three years should be proof enough of that.

Then again, Lenny's appearance and his threats that still made bile rise in my throat, would excuse such pathetic behaviour.

I looked out the window again, let my gaze sweep the car park. Then pressed them shut as my cold hands fisted. However strong and confident and self-sustained I usually was, I missed not being alone. I missed being with someone, being held close and having someone to talk to. Having someone by my side to face the world with.

A warm hand covered my fist on the worktop, and I quickly looked up on an intake of breath. Into a pair of green eyes studying me.

"What happened?" Michael asked in a low voice.

I glanced behind us, but Charlie had returned to the living room. I could see him through the doorway, rooting through his box of toys.

"He was just suddenly there," I replied, struggling to hold down the tremble that threatened to make all of me shake. Then looked at the man close beside me, moved a little closer to the warmth he exuded. "I was holding Charlie's hand and had the shopping bag in the other, and Lenny... I lifted up Charlie. I had to. I couldn't let go of him to get the spray or the alarm."

Michael's hand squeezed mine. "Of course not."

I swallowed hard. "Lenny said I could work off some of the debt."

"Work it off?"

"On... my back," I explained, unable to meet Michael's eyes. My cheeks flushed as I tasted bile again. "He said that he would write off some of the debt if I..." I grimaced, but forced myself to say the words, "If I worked it off with him."

It sounded like Michael swore under his breath, but when I looked at him, his lips were pressed tight together and his face was set in a grim expression.

"If I refuse him," I continued in a choked whisper, "he'll send round his friends to... do the same as a punishment. While Charlie watches."