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close. She had no one left. It wasn’t hard to understand how she’d fallen into a rut, when she had obligations to no one, and she was content with so little. “Mostly I’ve wondered why it took until today for you to visit Adrianne’s class.”
    “You can thank my mother for that,” he said, frowning as he stared down into his cup. “She signed me up for the story hour.”
    Interesting. “That doesn’t explain where you were for the last six months. You know. At Halloween and at Christmas, when your parents were there for Adrianne.”
    “Working mostly,” he said, sighing as he shrugged. “I didn’t find out my mother had signed herself up for the Halloween or Christmas parties until after the fact. I mean, I knew about the parties from Addy, but not that I could’ve come. I’m new to this kid-in-school parenting thing, remember? And it’s not like I’ve got neighbors keeping me posted.” He leaned his head to one side and popped his neck, did the same on the other.
    The motion gave her a better view of his neck and the words tattooed there. Which had her wondering again about the scales on his abdomen. And that thought had her hiding a private smile behind her cup as she brought it to her mouth. “You do go through the papers I send home, don’t you?”
    “Sure. Of course. But on the days I keep Addy with me, my mom usually stops by the shop after school to see her, so she goes through them first. She doesn’t like my setup at Bliss. She thinks Addy would be better off staying with her until I get home.”
    Brooklyn hated that his mother’s meddling had her rethinking her opinion of Shirley Drake, and threw out a bone. “Still, having your parents near has got to be a good thing.”
    “It’s been good for Addy for sure. I mean, it’s not like she wouldn’t have survived day care. We all did. But my folks are great to step up at the last minute. Plus having them around has helped give Addy a good sense of family, and more stability, since otherwise it’s just the two of us against the world.”
    There it was. The perfect opening. She could ask about Adrianne’s mother and not feel as if she was stepping over the bounds of his privacy.
    But not once had he, or his parents, or even his daughter, hinted at the woman’s existence, leaving Brooklyn to hold her tongue. “It’s good that you’re close with them,” she said, but then his mouth twisted again and she found herself adding, “If you are close with them.”
    “They’re my parents,” he said, and shrugged. “There’s close. And then there’s . . . close. As in way too far up in my business. My mother, anyway. Though with my best interests at heart, she says. And Addy’s.”
    “I guess that’s just how it is with families.”
    “Depends on the family,” he said, leaving it at that as he drained his cup, set it on the table, and got to his feet. “Thank you for the coffee. It should get me through a few hours at least.”
    She set her own cup next to his and stood, too, resisting the urge to smooth down her hair, to check her sweater for wrinkles, to press the fabric of her pants with her palms. “I’d tell you not to work too hard . . .”
    He smiled, a grin of deep dimples and eyes already too tired as he looked down at his feet. “I’m a lost cause.”
    “I don’t believe that,” she said, showing him out of the kitchen and through the living room to the front door. “Be careful,” she said as she opened it.
    “And you,” he said, stepping out onto her porch.
    “Me?”
    “In Italy.”
    “That’s four months from now.” She couldn’t bear the thought of this being their final good-bye. “You can come to Addy’s end-of-year party and tell me then.”
    “We’ll see,” was all he said, leaving her with a wave, then walking down her driveway to his bike, and drawing her gaze to his stride, loose and rolling, his hips, his legs, his very tight—
    “No.” She whispered the word and shut the door,