J—

I look down at my phone for a time check. Shit. I'm running late to pick Mashiho up from practice. I needed a few things for dinner. I thought I could run in and out of the grocery store in a few minutes. I had no idea I'd get stuck behind a woman that would challenge the price of every item she self-scanned.

By the time I realize it's going to take a while, the other lanes are three people deep, and everyone has a full load of groceries. I don't want to be late and hold Ms. Manoban up. We haven't spoken in two weeks since sharing dinner together at the diner.

I don't want her to think I'm taking advantage of her kindness and using her as a babysitter for Mashiho. Especially since I've been able to successfully avoid her.

At the meets I make a point to leave the building as soon as the last match is over. I'm careful to keep my wandering eyes focused on the mats and off of Ms. Manoban. The few times since then that we've made eye contact, I force myself to break it.

I understand the vibes I'm putting out there. She probably thinks I'm a bitch, which is fine. Let her think I'm a flake. Her opinion of me shouldn't matter. Still, she makes a point to always smile and wave when she sees me. There have been three meets since we spoke last, and while I see Mashiho getting stronger and matching well against his opponents, he still hasn't won a match, or scored any points. I toss my bag of groceries on the passenger seat and look behind me as I back out of the spot.

I switch gears, putting the car into drive when a loud noise, like something breaking sounds as something slams into me from behind, and lurches me forward into the car parked in the space next to me. I'm so surprised, it takes a minute for me to realize what happened.

Fuck! This was the last thing I needed.

Before I get out, onlookers approach both me and the elderly woman in the car behind me. Every other shopping trip I run into someone I know, a neighbor, or a mother from Mashiho's school. This is the one time I really need to see a familiar face, and none are to be found.

"I called the police for you," a kind gentleman informs me once I step out to assess the damage. "They'll be here in a few minutes."

Only I don't have a few minutes because I'm already late. My car looks like an accordion. How can there be so much damage from such a small hit? The air bags didn't even deploy.

"Are you okay?" A shopping cart attendant asks. Voices and noise fill the air around me.

Sirens whine coming closer by the second. I can't leave without a police report. This is such a bad time of the day for this to happen. My friends are still working and my parents are forty-five minutes away. With the rush hour traffic they'll hit half way here, it will take them at least an hour. I don't have that long. I need to get Mashiho now.

Two squad cars, and an ambulance come speeding into the parking lot. Before the first cop car stops I reach for my phone and send my son a message.

Me: I'm going to be a while. See if you can get a ride with one of your friend's moms.

Mashiho: They're all gone. How much longer?

Me: Not sure. Was in a car accident at the grocery store. I'm fine. But not sure how long I'll be.

Turns out the woman wanted my spot. She put her blinker on and then instead of hitting the brake to stop the car, she stepped on the accelerator. While I'm relieved that she owned up to her mistake, I'm annoyed at the situation.

The elderly woman holding her head, is taken by ambulance to the hospital to be checked out. I'm stuck here waiting for the officer taking the report to give me back my license, registration and insurance card. I can't go anywhere without them.

"Are you able to drive?" The officer asks me.

"I guess." Looking at the car, I'm not sure it's safe to drive.

"Mom!"

I turn at the sound of my son's voice. He rushes toward me and almost knocks me down wrapping his arms around me. I kiss his head and stroke his hair.

"Hey, buddy. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and frightened. For a moment, I lose time. He's not the brooding thirteen year old that shuts me out at every turn. He's my baby boy. I want to hold on to this moment.

"Yes." I squeeze him for emphasis. "I'm fine. How'd you get here? Who brought you?"

As I ask the question, I look up and see Lisa Manoban walking towards us. My heart thrums in time with her steps. I can't believe she's here. This must have put a wrench in her plans for the evening. I feel awful.

"Ms. Manoban," I say as the woman approaches. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hold you up."

"How are you?" She looks annoyed, maybe even angry, as her dark, turbulent eyes look me over.

"The car got the brunt of it," I say, looking over at the car.

She follows my glance, and breathes heavy before looking back at me. "Now tell me how you really are?" She takes my trembling hand in hers. Her voice is rich with emotion.

I must have gotten hit harder than I think because this woman's reaction doesn't make sense. If I didn't know better, I'd think she's worried about me. I should reassure her that I didn't get hurt, but I don't think she's asking about my physical state.

"Shaken up."

"That's what I thought," she says, still holding my shaking hand. My nerves have the best of me. Only now, I'm not sure what's affecting me more, her touch, or the accident.

"Here you go miss." The officer with my information approaches us. I pull my hand out of the warmth of Ms. Manoban's strong, soothing, grasp, and reach for my documents. "The report should be ready in three to five business days. You can come to the precinct and pick it up."

"Thank you, sir" I watch him walk away, then turn to my son. "Get in the car so I can get this heap home."

"Like hell."

I'm taken back. Stunned into silence. She did not just say that. Did I hit my head? Is hearing things a sign of a concussion?

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask, annoyed at the privilege she took in speaking to me like that.

I look up at her, noticing for the first time how close she's standing to me. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet her eyes. Close enough that I feel her body heat gathering around me and enveloping me like a warm blanket.

"You're shaken up and you don't know what condition the car is in. No way are you getting behind the wheel."

"I have to. I need to move it, and I need to get home."

She shoves her hands deep in her pockets and stands to her full height, chest out. "I'm taking you home."

The way she says it, so strong and matter of fact, she leaves no room for discussion. Normally it would piss me off, but right now, I actually like it. I don't bother to protest. For a change, I don't want to play the part of the strong independent woman. I'm not up to it right now. I've played that part for the last two years. I'd like a reprieve. Even better, I like who's giving it to me even more.

"I already caused enough trouble for you."

"How so?"

"Won't you get in trouble for bringing Mashiho here?"

"Only if someone saw. Doesn't matter though. It was my choice to throw him in the car. I'll deal with the consequences."

"No. Ms. Manoban . . ." Her eyebrow shoots up as she stabs me with a pointed look. She must want me to call her by her name. "You shouldn't have, Lisa."

"How else was he going to get here? He turned white when he got your message. It was the right thing to do." Her thumb presses on her bottom lip, reminding me of how much I'd like to get acquainted with those lips. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Heartbeat. I wonder if she has any idea how off kilter mine is right now. It's racing and doing hurdles. The cool breeze carries a whiff of her cologne straight to my nose, causing a shiver to run up my spine. It's subtle, but it's undeniably her. A little outdoors, and a little spice. I recognize it from the previous times we spoke. I want to throw myself against her chest, lay my head on her shoulder and breathe her in.

Without asking, Lisa takes her jacket off and wraps it around my shoulders. I pull it tighter around me, getting high on her scent. My chest tightens. I shouldn't like being this close to her. I shouldn't enjoy how comfortable I feel around this woman. How much I enjoy the little touches. Or the intoxicating feeling I get in my belly, like a drunk group of birds and butterflies congregate together and tumble around when she looks at me and smiles.

I shouldn't like any of this because she's my son's coach. That's not even the worst part. I shouldn't like any of this because Lisa Manoban is at least a decade younger than me, if not two, and the more time I spend around her, the more I allow myself to fantasize about something actually happening between us.

I've heard that younger people are into older people. There's the Milf and cougar movements, which I don't really get. I always thought guys were into younger women. Regardless, I never even noticed younger people. Until a few weeks ago when Ms. Manoban stopped to speak to me on the school steps.

She inches closer to me and holds the jacket lapel. My brain short circuits. I'm so fried between the accident and her proximity, I can only stare in silence pretending I understand what she's saying as her full pouty lips move.

"My friend owns a body shop. He'll pick up your car and drop something off for you to use in the meantime."

"Body shops don't do that."

Her teeth graze her bottom lip a moment before she continues. "Don't worry you're pretty little head. I've got this."

I think I should be insulted at being dismissed, but I'm not. I'm relieved. It feels good to have someone help pick up the broken pieces around me for a change.

I nod, and take my son's hand in mine as I move to the side and allow Lisa Manoban to re-park my car. Mashiho doesn't say anything about her coach's comment or the fact that I'm wearing her jacket. Maybe I'm making too much of it, because this woman stirs up a yearning in me I thought was dead?

"Come on, Mash," Ms. Manoban says, placing her big hand on my lower back. "Lead the way." She gestures with her other hand, encouraging my son to walk in front of us.

As we walk the few feet to her car, I peek at her through the corner of my eye. She's calm, cool and in control. Not to mention sexy as fuck. Her confidence has me mesmerized. Under a spell. For a few brief seconds, her hand slips from my back and moves around my waist. She pulls me closer, so that I'm right up against her.

It's hard to swallow when she keeps taking my breath away like this.

Mashiho gets into the back seat, as if he knows what's expected and we do this all the time. Ms. Manoban walks me around to the passenger seat, and stops dead in her tracks. She stares at me for a long moment before leaning in. My heart pounds like a drum agains my chest, waiting to see what she does. Her mouth is alongside my ear as she reaches for the handle to open the door for me.

"Don't push me away," she whispers. Her breath tickles my ear and sends shivers down my spine.