Dinner was cold. And as much as James hated cold meals, he was getting to used to eating food which should have been warm, but was clearly not

He knew better though. Knew better than to complain. Knew all to well not to mention...it. Because voicing his sorrow...well, that would make the situation real. Acknowledging his dinner was cold was acknowledging his father was late..again.

Despite his promises. Regardless of his words. He was not here. And if dinner was cold again...then dad was late...again.

James, barely five and in a chair much to big for him, chanced a quick look over to his mother. Even after giving birth to James, she still held a beautiful many would envy. She was naturally beautiful, had been always. The pictures of her through out the large house ranged from her early childhood in lace and ribbons, to when she blossomed slowly into a grown woman in diamonds and silk.

Mrs. Diamond. Who received diamonds and wore diamonds...shed tears that sparkled like diamonds down her beautiful, sad face.

James knew the routine. After wiping the long shed tears, she would give her son the tired nod of consent, and James would scarf down his now cold food whole. His mother would pick at hers, quiet and defeated.

So tonight, as his mother dabbed the tears with her cloth napkin, and as James waited for her solemn nod, she looked up at her son, heaved a sigh and said, "How about we get some pizza tonight?"

James, who already had his fork full of cooled rice halfway to his mouth, dropped it in surprise, "Um...w-what about dad?" He asked before he could stop.

The smirk she gave him made him a little nervous, "Screw him."

Two hours, two Hawaiian pizzas and two cokes later, James thought he was going to puke. His mother was laughing at the ridiculous joke he had heard on TV, and his face hurt from smiling so much.

"So the snowman said...ice to meet you!" he cried as he tumbled through the foyer into their home, giggling at his joke, but mostly giddy from the laughter coming from his mother.

In a big sweep she picked him up, something that surprised him so much he gave a little shout. She never picked him up. Or held his hand. Or...touched him really. But she didn't seem to notice, and began to smother his face with kisses. Definitely something new as well.

"Get into your PJ's and brush your teeth, then come into my room. I want to read you a bed time story."

She said all this in between kisses, then placed him at the foot of the stairs, ushering him to climb up them in a hurry.

James couldn't help being a bit confused at her words. Bed time stories? His father had basically banned them, saying he was to old for them by now. Yet he didn't question this as he brushed his teeth with his Spider-man toothbrush he got as a Christmas present from his Gamma, his mom's mom.

As he quietly padded into his parents bedroom he realized his father still wasn't home, which made him nervous. But as he climbed into his mothers bed, cuddling against her in her silk nighty, he decided that if his mom wasn't worried, neither would he.

"I'm thinking of cutting my hair short Jamie. What do you think?" She said as she rummaged through her large Birkin bag.

James stood up on the bed, taller than his mom as she nestled back against the pillows, gauging his reaction as he studied her.

"I think you would look like the cat's meow." he answered. His mom giggled a bit and grabbed her son, going 'meow' over and over again as she gently tickled him.

"What bed time story are we reading tonight?" he gasped out in between breaths of giggles, silently hoping for Where the Wild Things Are.

Instead she pulled out a relatively thick paperback. On the cover was a bare chested man in a kilt with long hair holding onto a woman with even longer hair, her dress falling off her shoulder.

"It's a bit different from a regular bed time story Jamie. I want to read you these stories cause I want you to learn something from them."

James groaned loudly and threw the blanket over his head when he heard the word 'learn', ducking deeper when his mom gently pulled the sheet back.

"Don't worry. It wont be boring learning. There will be sword fights, and thieves and magic. It will be a lot of fun! I promise." She was trying to get James's approval.

He sighed, and peeked out from the sheet, giving the cover another look. "If its so fun, then what am I going to learn?"

She cupped his cheek, and stared at him with a serious look in his eyes, "Jamie. You are going to learn how to treat a woman."

So began the routine. For every night that James's father failed to come home, which became more and more frequent, James would crawl into this mothers bed, nestled against her as she introduced him to the world of Linda Lael Miller, Susan Mallery, and Susan Elizabeth he became familiar with the world of rouges, damsels, and soldiers. He learned of the power of good versus evil. How love could be born out of hate. And surprising passion fueled by forbidden desire. The floor plan to a woman's heart was being mapped out between the pages of paperback novels his mother picked up at the local library. She even took him into the older romances, crossing over to the world of the Bronte's, Jane Austen and even Shakespeare. She made him swear not to tell anyone; crossing pinky, toes and eyes. And of course he didn't. It was James's father who got him into hockey. When he was about 8 and the elder male Diamond began noticing how James liked playing dress up with his mothers reject make up samples rather than rough-housing with boys his age. He quietly, internally, admitted he hadn't been there as much as he should have been. So, instead of integrating himself more into James's life, he dropped him off one morning around 5 a.m at Little WildCats PeeWee Hockey league for 12 and under and never looked back. Enter Logan, Kendall and Carlos. But...it was to late. And the damage had been done. And little James was to gone. And he was hooked. Always was James grabbing desperately onto the concept of a life filled with the beauty, passion and romance he had dreamed of during those nights in his mothers arms, listening to the words of Nora Roberts soothing him to sleep. Luckily, the guys had helped him stay as grounded as he could be outside his fantasy world. He could run just as fast, get just as dirty, cause just as much trouble. Despite all this, he would always long for the people of his mothers paperbacks. Every girl, every adventure, every dream.

If only reality would stop getting in his way.