Belong to Me (55 page)

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Authors: Shayla Black

BOOK: Belong to Me
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With a sigh, Tyler turned back to the blonde. “Okay. What’s up, boss lady?”
“I can’t have girls fighting and quitting because you’re too busy playing musical beds,” Alyssa said. “Someone is going to lose every time, and it’s creating a fucking mess that I don’t have time to clean up. I hired Jessi to replace Krystal, who left because she didn’t like being last on your booty call list. Tyler, Jessi has been there three days. Three! I found out this afternoon that you’ve already tapped that, more than once.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “After her first shift, she asked for an escort to her car. The parking lot was dark and empty. I helped her out.”
“By nailing her in the backseat?”
“There’s more room in a Civic than you’d think.”
“I don’t care.” Alyssa sounded pissed off. “Jessi came crying to me when she found you and Skyler in the dressing room last night after closing. Do I need to enact a strict ‘no anal sex’ policy at the club?”
“I’ve bounced at the club for almost two years. What I did with the girls has never bothered you before. What is this really about?”
There was a long pause, and Delaney watched a few of the women lift glasses of wine and sip nervously.
The other redhead, the one with the baby bump, clutched a water bottle and shifted in the seat. “We think it’s time you settled down.”
“Morgan . . .” he warned. “Don’t try spreading your matrimonial joy on me. Just because you’re all blissful with your monogamy doesn’t mean I’m in any hurry to get there.”
So the redhead’s baby bump wasn’t his doing?
Never mind. It’s irrelevant. Focus on getting his help and staying alive.
“You’re going to have to grow up,” Morgan pointed out.
Alyssa wagged a finger in his face. “Skyler just turned twentytwo. You’re what, a decade older?”
Actually, Tyler was thirty-four. Delaney knew that well. She remembered his thirtieth birthday party, during happier times, back when she and Eric—
She shut down that thought and listened to the conversation.
“I didn’t know she was that young. Sorry.” Tyler shrugged. “We weren’t exactly exchanging vital statistics.”
“No,” Alyssa jumped in. “Just bodily fluids.”
“Hey, I wore a condom.”
Tara grimaced as several others groaned. “Eww. I don’t want details.”
“I’m just saying . . . Let’s not get technical,” he defended. “So I’m older than her. I’m not the first guy to date a younger woman.”
“Fucking in the back of the club isn’t dating.” Kimber sighed.
“We love you, but you’ve gotta clean up your man-whore act.” Alyssa looked dead serious. “Or in ten years, you’re going to be a walking stereotype, a middle aged Lothario hitting on young chicks with your snazzy sports car.”
“I don’t have a sports car, and even if I did, with a name like Cockzilla, everyone would know that I’m not overcompensating for anything I might be lacking.”
Alyssa smacked her hand on the table. “Damn it, are you listening to us at all?”
Tyler sighed. “Okay, joking aside, I appreciate your concern, but seriously, I’m not looking for any kind of happily-ever-after.”
“Too bad,” Kata cut in. “We’re going to give you one.”
He stiffened. “Oh, I get it. You have someone in mind.”
“Well, I thought it would be nice if you’d talk to my cousin, London,” Alyssa suggested, as if walking on eggshells. “She just moved here. She’s very sweet and could use a friend.”
“Hell no.”
Kata stood, putting her hands on her very curvaceous hips. “Are you refusing because she’s not a size two?”
Tyler shook his head. “I’ve got nothing against girls with a little extra cushion. But that one has purity written all over her. No fucking way. Alyssa, you don’t like the way I treat your dancers, but you want to unleash me on your little virgin relative?”
“So what if she’s a virgin?” Alyssa argued. “You have a really kind, loyal side that would be good for her.”
The gorgeous blonde had gotten that part right. He’d once proven that he’d do
anything
for a friend.
“He does,” Kata agreed. “I might not be here if that weren’t true.”
“If you can just keep your pants zipped long enough, she’ll see it. And you’ll get to know her, too, and—”
“Nope.” Tyler finished the last of his beer and slammed the bottle on the table. “I’m done here. If you ladies want to stay and finish off your wine, you’re more than welcome, but there’s no way you’re pairing me up.”
“Where are you going?” Tara, closest to the sliding glass doors, moved her chair to block his path.
He scooted her out of the way with a nudge of his thigh. “Anywhere else. Bye.”
When he disappeared inside the house, Delaney panicked. It had taken her forever to track him down. She was at the end of her cash reserves and the end of her rope. Time had run out. No way could she wait until he felt like coming home to confront him. There was too much at stake.
Dragging everything she loved and owned behind her, Delaney clung to the shadows, watching for anything suspicious, and ran for his front door.
 
THE doorbell rang before Tyler even got near the front door. Now what? If this was another meddling female trying to tell him how to run his life, he was going to shove a bottle of wine in her hands and send her out back with the rest of the interfering females. He had better things to do, like slap some sense into his buddies. What the hell had possessed all of them to marry such pains in his ass?
Clenching the knob almost as hard as he clenched his teeth, Tyler yanked the door open, a curse on the tip of his tongue. It died abruptly.
He stared at the familiar, petite brunette, unable to take a breath. “Delaney?”
The sight of her hit him like a fucking two-by-four in the solar plexus. Was it even possible she really stood at his door? Or was he hallucinating after two silent years of wondering what the fuck had happened to her?
“Hi, Tyler.”
She shifted nervously, looking too damn tired, as if she’d been traveling for days. Her dark hair barely hung together in an unraveling braid, no makeup, dark circles under her deep blue eyes, wrinkled T-shirt. By her side sat a black duffel bag on wheels. Something else squatted near her, around the corner. He couldn’t see more of it than a tall plastic handle.
What the hell? She didn’t speak to him for two years, then brought everything she owned to his door?
“You’re a tough man to find,” she murmured, then looked over her shoulder.
He crossed his arms over his chest. Yeah, he should invite her in, but last time he checked, she’d thrown him out of her life.
Of course, she wouldn’t show up now with luggage unless she was desperate . . .
“I was under the impression you’d rather I get and stay lost.”
She shook her head, her dark braid swaying in the valley between her soft breasts, the ones with the pretty, berry red nipples he’d never quite forgotten. He swallowed back the memory.
“It wasn’t like that. I swear.” She bit her lip. “Look, I know this is awkward—”
“As hell. Yeah. Where’s Eric?” He glanced down at her left hand, clutching the rolling duffel bag. Her ring finger was bare.
“We’re divorced.”
Fuck. And there came the two-by-four to his gut again. Tyler didn’t want to ask why; he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
“I’m sorry.”
And he was. But there was a selfish side of him having a full-on, get-down party at the news. He shoved that greedy reaction aside.
Self-consciously, she rubbed her thumb along the back of her naked ring finger. “Thanks. It was final fourteen months ago. I haven’t seen much of him since.” She pursed her lips together, glanced behind her again. “He doesn’t want to see me at all.”
Why the hell was she so nervous?
“Delaney . . .” Tyler stopped. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t
all
his fault. But a good deal of the blame rested on his shoulders.
“It’s okay. I know you have company, and that this is awkward. I know I handled everything between us badly. And I’m sorry.”
Delaney’s blue eyes filled up with tears. As she fought them back, Tyler resisted the urge to comfort her as he had in the past when they’d been friends . . . then more.
“Can I come in? There’s something we really need to talk about.”
Everything inside Tyler seized up. The last time she’d wanted to “talk,” she’d thrown him out of her life. Whatever was on her mind, he could bet it would be heavy. She hadn’t come all the way to Lafayette from Los Angeles to shoot the shit.
How the hell could he say no? He’d ruined her life, and had been pretty damn sure what would happen when he was doing it. Tyler knew that he owed her. Besides, he’d never been in love . . . but he’d come damn close with Delaney.
“Sure.” He swallowed, grabbed her duffel, and stepped back. “Come in. How did you know I had company?”
Delaney glanced at the object with the tall plastic handle beside her, hidden by the exterior wall of the porch. She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I rang the doorbell a bit ago, and no one answered. So I popped around to the side of the house and . . . saw that you weren’t alone.”
“They’re my buddies’ wives.” He’d meant the words as an explanation, a defense. Then he winced. God, Delaney probably already imagined that he was fucking them.
“It’s none of my business.” She glanced at the hidden object beside her again, then the empty street behind her. “I came because I need your help. Really badly and right now.”
He nodded. “You look tired, Del. And too thin. Come in and tell me what I can do.”
She drew in a deep breath, then bent to the item with the tall plastic handle. A trunk? A dolly? Did she mean to move in?
A moment later, she straightened up, clutching a little boy. He was dead weight in her arms, half asleep, his face against her shoulder, thick blond hair askew. Tyler’s heart skidded to a stop.
The kid’s meaty hands and feet peeked out beyond the arms and legs of his Spider-Man pajamas that were just a bit too small. He hooked one arm around Delaney’s neck, then began rubbing an eye with his little fist. Then the kid turned. That little face possessed the Murphy nose. His own green eyes, uncertain and watchful, stared back at him.
Tyler’s entire body went cold. His jaw dropped. His mind came to a screeching halt.
Oh god. Oh fucking god . . .
“Tyler, meet your son, Seth.”
Before she’d said a word, Tyler had known this kid was his son. A thousand emotions pelted him at once. Shock blazed through his system first. Wonder and anger crashed in together next.
He had a son. He and Delaney had created life together that beautiful May night when he’d finally stopped seeing her as a friend and had no choice but to touch her as a woman. Then the thunder of his fury caught up. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push it down for the boy’s sake.
“Hi, Seth.” He spoke in soft tones, then speared Delaney with a glare that dared her to defy him. “Can I hold him?”
Suddenly, Tyler ached to. This was his son.
His
. . . with her.
At her nod, she kissed the little boy’s head, then whispered, “It’s okay, little man.”
Seth frowned and watched him suspiciously, but went without a fight. Then Tyler was holding his son for the first time, wrapping him as tightly in his arms as he dared.
He tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight. His jaw ached. His heart beat fast, like a fucking racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. Something warm flooded his chest. Tyler had never fallen instantly in love with anything or anyone, but Seth seized his heart in a single moment. He kissed the little boy’s forehead, and the feeling swelled ten-fold.
“Why am I just now finding out about him?” Tyler tried to keep his voice calm, even. But his eyes accused her. What he really wanted to know was how the fuck she could have robbed him of the first fifteen months of his own son’s life.

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