She has her eyes down, hand searching in her bag. When she lifts her eyes to me, I see the surprise flicker through them.
Then, she smiles widely. “Leandro.”
My eyes quickly graze over her body. She’s dressed down in skinny jeans and a T-shirt with a fitted black leather jacket. It makes her look younger.
And my cock instantly stands to attention.
I step a little closer, getting into her space. “India. Last night, and now, this morning. If I didn’t know better, I would think the universe is trying to put us together.”
Her eyes flicker nervously to the side. Following her gaze, I see a boy standing beside her, curiously looking at me.
I immediately know it’s her son. He has the exact same blue eyes as her.
She clears her throat, in that way she does when she’s uncomfortable. It’s surprising how quickly I’ve become accustomed to her little ways.
“Leandro, this is my son, Jett.” She takes a step away from me, revealing more of him.
I remember her saying last night that he’s twelve. This kid is tall for his age. I’m six foot, and he’s only about half a foot shorter than me.
His head tilts to the side, his eyes sparking with excitement.
“You’re Leandro Silva.” He sounds flabbergasted.
She said he’s a big Formula 1 fan.
“I am.” I smile.
“Holy crap!” He flicks his eyes to India. “You know Leandro Silva? How do you know Leandro Silva? And why didn’t you tell me that you know Leandro Silva?” The kid’s voice is raising a decibel higher. He might be tall, but his voice hasn’t broken yet, and his high pitch is raising some attention.
I pull the ball cap I’m wearing down lower over my eyes. I don’t mind a little attention, but right now, I don’t want people intruding while I have her here.
“Jett, please don’t say crap. And could you lower your voice a little? People are starting to stare.” India laughs softly.
His eyes scan quickly around. “Sorry.” His eyes come back to me. “I’m just a huge fan. Huge.” He emphasizes with his hands.
“It’s okay.” I smile at him again.
I glance back to India. She’s chewing on her lip, looking a little more than disconcerted.
Yes, it turns me on. Her lip-chewing and nervousness are doing it for me. But then again, pretty much everything she does turns me on.
We’re in this awkward pause where none of us knows quite exactly what to say. Jett is staring at me in awe, and his mouth keeps opening and closing like he has a hundred questions to ask but no clue where to start.
I decide to fill the gap.
“Did you take the Tube?” That is clearly the dumbest thing I could ask, considering they were exiting the station.
Smooth, Silva, real smooth.
A smile spreads onto India’s face. “My car is in the garage,” she tells me. “So, we’re slaves to public transport.”
Another awkward pause.
Putting her hand on Jett’s arm, she says, “Well, we should get going—”
“No!” Jett says loudly. His face instantly goes bright red. “I mean, we’re going for coffee. Well, I’m having hot chocolate ’cause I’m clearly too young for coffee. But do you want to come with us and have coffee? Or tea? Hot chocolate? Whatever you drink really…” He trails off, looking uncomfortable.
Chuckling, I part my lips to speak, but I don’t get a chance.
“I’m sure Leandro has better things to do than have coffee with us, Jett.”
Do I?
I glance at her. There’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite discern, but it looks an awful lot like uncertainty.
I look back to Jett and smile. “Actually, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now.”
Okay, I’m turning the charm on, but I do actually mean that. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now than with her. And meeting her kid is an added bonus.
I slide my eyes back to India, locking them with hers. “I’d love to have coffee with you.”
A smile warms her eyes.
“We were just going to Starbucks. Is that okay with you?”
Anywhere with you, is okay with me. “Perfect.”
I walk with them toward Starbucks. India begins walking in front of us while Jett is talking incessantly to me about my past races. I listen to him talk, answer his questions, and force myself not to stare at India’s magnificent ass in those tight jeans. Seems like it’d be disrespectful to ogle her in front of her kid.
Stepping in front when we reach Starbucks, I open the door for her.
“Thanks.” She doesn’t meet my eyes when she speaks, but I see the flush on her face.
Jett walks through, still talking to me about racing, and I follow him in.
“You two take a seat. I’ll go get the drinks,” I tell them. “Hot chocolate for you, Jett?” I check. “And a black coffee for you, India?”
“You know how my mum takes her coffee?” Jett’s voice punches through the air.
And I see the smile on India’s face freeze.
When I look at Jett, I see he’s got a big-ass grin on his face.
Kid is quick.
But I’m quicker.
“I brought her coffee once. It stuck with me. I have a great memory.” I tap a finger to my head. “You want anything to go with that hot chocolate?”
Glancing past me at the food on display, he says, “A blueberry muffin would be great, please.”
“We’ll go find somewhere to sit,” India says, still looking a little flustered.