Page 69 of Kings Don't Break

“Which makes things complicated, doesn’t it?”

“He wants to go to the Christmas market.”

Mama’s sparse brows jump high, her lips pursed. “Does he now? And what did you say?”

“I said people would see us.”

“And?”

“And… and…”

I don’t know.

“Korine Tiana McKibbens, get your butt in some decent clothes and go spend the day with that man.”

“But—”

“You haven’t seen him in ten years, and you could use a little joy. Go, right now.”

I stand up straight with hands on my hips. “Mama, I’m not a child anymore. Remember?”

“Then stop acting like one and go, go, go!”

“Fine. But only if you come with. You’ve been just as cooped up as me. Blake won’t mind.”

And he doesn’t.

When I emerge from the bedroom and let him know we’d like to go after all, he’s no less enthusiastic about the outing. Within the hour, we’re piling into his truck and driving across town to Main Street where the market’s located. Though Mama sits in between us on the drive over, the enclosed space still feels tortuous—it still feels like I’m far too close to Blake.

I can practically pick up on his natural musk. A masculine scent that’s woodsy but clean and soapy at the same time; a scent that I’m more than a little familiar with.

He smells the same even after all these years.

My throat thickens at the thought, and I swallow against the tight feeling. It’s bad enough that I can’t stop thinking about the dream I had earlier. The last thing I need to be noticing is how good Blake smells, how he casts me and Mama sidelong glances with a little smile canting his lips and the winter sunlight caught in his eyes.

Who am I kidding?

I can acknowledge he’s an attractive man without wanting anything more. Blake always was the cutest boy at school. The guy all the girls threw themselves at. His hair, his face and body, and the one-of-a-kind smile of his that makes you feel so special, like you’re the only person he’s ever given it to—any woman would want him.

That’s without even acknowledging his charming personality and the natural confidence he possesses. A certain swag that makes him even more irresistible.

I glance over at him. He’s telling Mama about the crêpes booth they have at the market. She giggles at the little jokes he cracks and the sweet way he speaks to her. All genuine and sincere.

In a way Ken never was with Mama. She’s never been so at ease.

I’ve never been…

I force my gaze back to the window on my side of the truck despite the fact that a warmth has settled over me. I’m burning up by the time we’ve parked and we’re walking a block down to the market.

The crowds milling about let us know we’re some of the last in town to show up.

Blake’s offered Mama his arm to help her navigate all the people. I smile at him in gratitude for being so thoughtful. Busy scenes like this can quickly become overwhelming for her.

We wander around, periodically stopping at a booth that sells Christmas trinkets or tasting samples available from the food vendors. After a pitstop at the funnel cake station, I release an airy laugh that surprises even me.

“Blake… your beard. You’ve got powder all over it.”

Mama joins me in my laughter. Blake tucks his chin into his shoulder, rubbing away the powder using his shirt sleeve. The only problem is, he makes it worse; the powdered sugar spreads across his jaw.