The Mommy Bride. Shelley Galloway

to me.”

      “What? You weren’t a teenage boy once?”

      That made her laugh. “You’re right. I never thought I’d say this, but this is when I miss having a brother. I seem to really be messing up this afternoon.”

      As boys and parents wandered around, picking up old Gatorade bottles, sweatpants and smelly socks, Claire kept her attention on the locker room door.

      Ty kept his attention on Claire. He knew she was a single mom, but didn’t know much about her past. He also couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t mention Wes’s dad. Giving in to impulse, he said, “Where is Wes’s dad?”

      Her eyes became guarded again. “Gone.”

      “Oh.” Yep, that question had been a mistake. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.”

      “Don’t worry about it. It’s no secret.” Finally sparing him a glance, Claire shrugged and added, “He passed away about three years ago.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “It’s okay. We were separated before that. We had a lot of problems. He, um, wasn’t a good husband. But he did love Wes. In his own way, at least. I guess that counts for something, huh?”

      Thinking back to his own childhood, where his dad did the best he could even though a lot of times it wasn’t too good at all, Ty nodded.

      Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled weakly. “Sorry, I’m not one of those people who loves to talk about themselves.”

      He got that. He didn’t like to talk about himself, either.

      And because her announcement was so refreshing, sounded so good, he wanted to know more. What had happened with her husband? He hadn’t been a good husband? What did that mean? What had happened to her?

      Since she obviously didn’t want to speak of it, he gestured to the boys’ locker room. “What set Wes off?”

      “I praised fourth place and called him ‘honey.’” Biting her bottom lip, Claire said, “At least I think that’s what I did wrong.”

      “Not so good to a competitive, tough wrestler. Almost fighting words.”

      Surprise and a bit of humor filled her gaze. “You get it.”

      “Unlike you, I was a boy once.”

      As they watched Wes, dressed in gray sweats and carrying an old backpack on his shoulder, leave the locker room with two other boys, Ty noticed a ribbon around the boy’s neck, though the medal was tucked under his sweatshirt. “Something tells me he’s prouder of that medal than he let on.”

      “You think so?” Hope sprang to life in her eyes. “When I said that I thought fourth place was great, he glared. I keep saying the wrong things today.”

      “Ever think that maybe you’re saying everything right and it’s Wes who’s taking everything wrong?”

      “No. I need to support Wes. To be the best person I possibly can for him. I’ll just have to work on my words with him a little bit more.”

      Wes picked up his pace as he approached. “Hi, Dr. Slattery.”

      “Hi.”

      Wes looked at him curiously. Claire probably would never see it, but there was a definite look of possession in the boy’s posture. Wes put it into words. “What are you doing here with my mom? My shoulder was good today.”

      “It looked like it. I just wanted to tell you I saw your pin in that last match. How many seconds did that last? Thirty?”

      “Coach said twenty-eight.”

      There was a hint of a swagger in Wes’s voice. Ty firmly kept his expression low-key instead of smiling. “Impressive.”

      “Yeah. I’m not very good. Some guys on the squad did youth wrestling, so they’ve got lots of experience. I’m getting better, though.”

      “Good enough to place, huh?”

      Wes fingered the ribbon around his neck. “Yeah. I was really surprised. This is just my second year. Coach said I did a good job.”

      Though Claire was quiet, Ty noticed she was loving the amount of information Wes was divulging. Obviously, the boy had mastered the “I’m fine, nothing’s new” routine. Because he was intrigued by Claire’s past and because it looked like Wes could use a buddy, he impulsively said, “Hey, I was thinking about going out for chili. Are you hungry, Wes? Maybe we could all grab something to eat.”

      “I’m starved.” After glancing his mom’s way, he tempered his response. “I mean, yeah, I could probably eat.”

      Now all Ty had to do was convince Wes’s mom to give him a chance. “Do you like Cincinnati chili, Claire?”

      She blinked. “Not really.”

      “Oh. Well, they have other things at Skyline,” he said quickly. Why hadn’t he offered to go out for burgers? “I think they have salads there.”

      “Thanks, but I don’t think—”

      “It’s just food, Claire. I promise.”

      “Thanks, but maybe some other time.” Turning to her son, she said, “Wes, are you ready to go home?”

      Wes hadn’t moved. “No. I’m starving, Mom. Why can’t we go out to eat? We never go out to eat.”

      Something dimmed in her eyes. “That’s because—”

      Quickly Ty spoke. The last thing he’d wanted to happen was to bring up a touchy subject. “You sure about dinner? We could go to Wendy’s or something—”

      After another look at Wes, Claire said, “You know what? Chili’s fine.”

      “So that means we can go?” Wes asked.

      “I think fourth place deserves a special treat.” Hesitantly, she glanced Ty’s way. “Are you sure you have time to eat with us, Dr. Slattery?”

      Wes rolled his eyes. “Mom, he asked us.”

      “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want your company,” Ty stressed.

      “Please, Mom?”

      “All right, then. We’ll meet you there. For chili.”

      “Great. I’ll go ahead and get us a table.” Ty walked out before Claire could change her mind.

      Of course, Ty didn’t know if Claire had ultimately agreed because she, too, knew there was something tangible between them…or if she was only thinking of her son.

      At the moment, he didn’t want to know.

      Chapter Four

      After edging her Corolla out of the icy parking lot and onto the salt-treated streets, Claire sneaked a peek at Wes.

      Without a word, he’d tossed his backpack on the backseat and climbed in next to her. Now he was pushing buttons on the radio, flipping stations every twenty seconds. With each push, clips of loud music burst out of the speakers, jarring Claire even more than the chunks of gravel and snow under the wheels of the car. “Choose a station now, Wes.”

      “I’m trying.”

      “Choose or the radio’s going off,” she said, purposely injecting a tone that welcomed no argument.

      His finger hovered over the knob before he defiantly turned it off himself. “Fine. Now nothing’s on. Happy?”

      Claire bit back a sigh as she slowly rolled to a stop at the light. What in the world was going on with him? Was this typical teen behavior? Something more?

      Instead of berating him for his attitude, she cast him a worried look. “What’s