"Does it bring back mories? The one of that night, five years ago? Now that I think of it, you look even hotter than you did that night," he said, gazing into her eyes.
The air between them thickened.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She could feel the weight of his presence pressing in on her, her towel suddenly feeling smaller, her skin too exposed.
She needed to think, to breathe but his presence was making it difficult to do any of that. She couldn’t let her mind sway from what was most important right now. Keeping him away from Timothy.
Every instinct scread at her to run, to hide. She couldn’t let him in. She needed to get in and tell Rachel and Timothy not to step out until Jake has left but she first needed to find a way to get Jake to leave.
"Why don’t you go wait in your car? I’ll join you once I’m properly dressed——"
"Mama?" Timothy’s small voice cut in before Bella could finish her words.
Imdiately, Bella froze.
This wasn’t happening. No. She couldn’t let him see Timothy. This was the mont she’d dreaded the most. What was she supposed to do now?
Her body went cold. Slowly, almost chanically, she turned her head back and there stood Timothy.
He was dressed neatly—Rachel must have just finished buttoning his shirt—but his hair stuck up in the back, his face bright and innocent.
Timothy peeked out to see who was at the door and his eyes widened imdiately.
Bella’s heart stopped when she saw Jake staring right back at Timothy. Her throat closed, her breath catching sowhere deep inside. Did he recognize Timothy? Does he think they look alike? Was that why Jake was looking at Timothy?
Jake didn’t move. He didn’t blink. His entire body went still, his sharp eyes locked on Timothy like he had just seen sothing he couldn’t process.
The little boy looked familiar and all he could do was try to rember why he looked familiar. Perhaps, he’d seen him sowhere. But why was he calling Bella "mama?"
Bella’s pulse raced, her grip tightening on her towel. She needed to do sothing and now.
Bella was seconds away from shutting the door, from dragging Timothy back inside and locking the world out, when her son broke the silence again.
Timothy’s eyes lit up as if he had just solved a puzzle. "Wait!" he said, pointing a tiny finger toward Jake. "I know you!"
Bella blinked, her head snapping toward Timothy. "You... what?"
What was all this? How on earth does her son know Jake?
Timothy bounced a little where he stood, excitent bubbling out of him. "You’re the man from the playground! Rember? My ball hit you that day! You picked up the ball and gave back. You said I was smart and I said we had the sa eyes!"
Bella’s stomach dropped. They’ve t? When? Was that why Jake was here? Did he locate Timothy to this place? No, that can’t be it.
If it were, he would’ve been surprised to see her here.
Gosh! What the hell was going on? Why did he have to visit her today of all days and now? Bella scread in her head, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
Jake’s brows rose, his gaze flickering from Timothy to Bella and back again. His usually sharp, composed features softened, surprise slipping into his eyes.
Though he knew the child looked familiar and from what he’d said, it was obvious they’d t but why couldn’t he rember fully?
Timothy took a step forward, his grin wide and eager. "See? Don’t you rember? I told Mama all about you! You’re my friend! I just didn’t rember to ask your na."
Bella’s heart stuttered violently. Her hands trembled where they clutched her towel, and her thoughts spun in frantic circles. The playground? Sa eyes? What is he saying?
"Timothy," she said quickly, her voice sharp with panic. "What are you talking about?"
Her son frowned at her, confused by her tone. "Mama, don’t you rember? I told you I t a nice friend at the park. He was nice. I wanted to see him again and you said if we were ant to see, we would. That’s him!" His little finger jabbed toward Jake, pride glowing on his face.
Then it hit him.
That was the kid. The sharp little boy who’d run into him at the park, whose ball had hit his leg and whose words had lingered in his head long after he’d gone.
"We have the sa eyes. My mama is the prettiest."
Jake’s lips parted in recognition, and for the first ti that morning, his perfectly contained composure cracked. A surprised laugh burst out of him—low, genuine, and warm.
"You’re right, little champ," he said, crouching down a little so his eyes leveled with Timothy’s. "I do rember you. You’re the smart boy from the playground."
Timothy’s whole face lit up like the sun breaking through storm clouds. His little fists curled in excitent, and he bounced on his toes, nodding furiously. "Yes! I told Mama about you! But you forgot all about ," he said with a pout.
Jake laughed again, this ti richer, unable to stop himself. He had not expected this—hadn’t expected to be standing in Bella’s doorway, towel wrapped around her and a boy grinning at him like he was so kind of hero. For a man used to precision and control, the mont felt wildly out of place. But strangely... it also felt good.
"I’m sorry little man. I may not have rembered but you did! You’ve got a sharp mory. You can remind anyti I forget, okay?"
Timothy’s face lit up again and he nodded. "Okay. I’ll remind you every day!"
Jake smiled, shaking his head with amusent. "So tell —" he tilted his head, still crouched before the boy—"what are you doing here? And is Bella your mommy? Is she the prettiest woman you talked about?" he asked, curiously.
Bella’s heart lurched violently in her chest. That was it. That was the mont it would all collapse. Timothy, in his innocence, would say the words she had kept buried for five long years, and Jake would know. He would know everything.
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