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door.
    Only after I’d secured my son in his car seat and collapsed into the seat of my car did I allow myself to break down.
    Fuck Tim!
    It wasn’t enough for him to fuck up his own life with his irresponsibility, he had to come back to town and fuck up the one I’d built for myself and my son.
    After one huge mistake in my junior year, I’d never had a chance to be self-indulgent again. I had a kid to take care of. Which meant the responsibility of going to school and having two jobs. It meant no more Friday-night football games. No more hanging out at the movies with my friends. No more hanging out with my friends at all, since most of them ditched me as soon as I told them I was pregnant. I couldn’t blame them.
    Honestly.
    How many seventeen-year-old girls want to hang out with a baby if they aren’t making money watching the kid?
    And how many seventeen-year-old guys want to date a girl with a baby?
    Not that I thought much about dating. Especially when my baby’s dad was an idiot.
    I read an article that claimed girls are attracted to men like their fathers. Which meant I was screwed.
    Tim and my dad were two peas in a pod. Both of them just left. Neither looked back. Neither cared about what happened to their kids while they were gone. But when—if—they came back into town, they thought everyone’s schedule should revolve around them.
    They were different, too.
    My dad made his living on the road, driving a semitruck. One day, he drove out of town and never came back. Up until I was eighteen, he’d send cards on every other birthday, with a ten-dollar bill inside and a lame note about buying myself something nice. But I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to him on the phone. He called a few times right after he left, but the calls became fewer and fewer, and stopped completely by the time I turned thirteen.
    According to Mom, she and Dad didn’t have a horrible marriage. Just two people who weren’t on the same track in life. He wanted to drive across the country. Mom would never leave Bridgeland, the town she’d been born and raised in.
    Especially not now, when she had her pick of the divorcés in Bridgeland. I thought she’d hit a big jackpot at the casino the day she came home from work screaming. But, no. Her excitement stemmed from snagging Mr. Kelso, former Bridgeland High School baseball stud, who now owned a GM dealership in town. He seemed like a nice guy, not the stereotypical sleazy-salesman type.
    I’m like my mother in many ways. Hardworking. Family loving. Quick-witted and sarcastic. But I must’ve inherited my dad’s wanderlust.
    Not that I had any plans to leave Bridgeland, but the thought of traveling to a new country or a different state made me giddy with excitement. Someday I’d have a reason to get my passport, even if it was just taking Holden on a trip across the border to Canada.
    “Mama?” Holden’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Okay, Mama?”
    “I’m okay, sweet boy. We’re okay.”
    And that was true, for now.
    But after today, with Tim canceling again and my boss on his last nerve with me, I wondered if I’d catch a break soon, or if I should start planning for when the bottom dropped out.

Chapter 7
Jason
    Relief washed over me when I spotted Linden Meadows bobbing her head and swishing her hips to the music as she poured a pint for one of her customers from behind the bar at Peak City Steakhouse. Not only because she looked hot dancing, but also because Mom would’ve known something was up if I’d scanned the restaurant, then randomly decided to eat somewhere else.
    Technically, Linden never told me where she worked when I’d pulled her over, but she mentioned a brewery. And since Peak City was the only brewery in town, I put two and two together and hoped for the best.
    “Can we eat at the bar?” I asked the hostess, pointing toward Linden.
    “Sure.” The girl bent down to grab two menus out of a large, wooden chest on the floor beside