Third Date (11 page)

It boggled my mind how rapidly a child's attention could shoot from one thing to the next. It was like her brain skipped between moments, sparks igniting in different thought bubbles, illuminating her next move.

Thinking hard, I remembered an old remedy I had learned years ago for smells. “Can you show me your kitchen?”

“Follow me, mattress man.” Her feet skipped across the floor, carrying her down the hall.

Shuffling through the cabinets, I found everything I needed. Green tea, brown sugar, lemon, baking soda, and warm water. Mixing the ingredients in a glass bowl Fay grabbed from a lower cupboard, she shuffled through a drawer and found me a rag.

I guess not all of foster care was a complete waste.

At least I got something out of it, even if the star accomplishment was learning to get rid of odors.

Her tender laugh was adorable, and the questions she had just kept coming the entire time I mixed the stuff together. I even gave up control to let her spoon mix them herself, because she assured me that she was old enough to stir.

“Is this really going to work?” Fay asked, smelling the sweet liquid.

“It sure is, a woman I knew a long time ago, taught me this.”

“Wow, is she old now like my Memeré?”

“Well,” I said, arching a brow. “I'm not sure, how old is your Memeré?”

Tapping her chin she said, “Mommy is twenty-five, and I'm five, so who knows how old Memeré is. But she's old, she has tiny lines over her eyebrows that make her look angry all the time. But she's nice, she's not angry all the time.”

“Oh, well that's good.” Walking back to her bedroom, I bent down next to the small mattress. Ringing out the rag, I scrubbed the discolored patch. “There, it should be all better when it dries.”

“Really? That's it?”

“Yup, that's it.”

“Wow, Mommy scrubbed that spot for me for days.” Her head fell back, eyes rolling around in her skull.

“Days?” I asked.

“Yup, maybe even months. I don't know for sure, because I'm only five, but it was a long time.”

My lips sealed tight, chin bouncing in agreement. “I'm sure she did her best.”

“Mm, mm.” A soft crackle of a cough came from the doorway. Whipping my head over my shoulders, Fay jumped in place, spinning around.

“Mommy, look! The mattress man fixed my bed!” Her slender finger pointed at the wet spot on her mattress.

“He did? Wow, that was very nice of the
mattress man?”
Tilting her head, Kinsley smiled with curiosity.

Standing, I tucked the damp rag in my belt loop. “Yes, Ma'am. My work here is done, you ladies can now sleep like the princess and the pea.”

“The princess and the pea? You do realize she couldn't sleep because there was a pea buried under a stack of mattresses?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I grinned. “Okay, you guys can sleep like Snow White.”

Fay cocked her head up, wrinkling her brows. “She had a poison apple.”

“Alright, you caught me, I'm not up to date on my princesses.” Holding my arms out, Kinsley giggled.

I couldn't ignore how gorgeous she looked right then. Her hair was tousled and poking out in several different directions. There was a light hue to her face that shined and covered her skin in a soft honey.

Kinsley had so much natural beauty it took my breath away.

“Fay, Honey, why don't you go put on cartoons and I'll make you breakfast in a few minutes.” Watching her daughter leave, Kinsley asked with a tight smile, “Is the
mattress man
hungry too?”

“Yes, he is. All that fixing of the beds has really brought on some hunger. I could definitely eat.”

The sound of singing and simulated laughter worked its way into the kitchen. Kinsley eyed the small mess that Fay and I had made during our odor removal. “So is this the result of a mattress defunk?”

“Yeah, sorry. Your daughter, who is adorable by the way, insisted on helping. She was pretty good at stirring too, aside from the occasional splash.” Stepping to the sink, I turned on the water, and grabbed the sponge.

“What are you doing?” she asked, tilting her head a hair.

“I'm cleaning up the mess. You didn't expect me to just leave it for you, did you?”

Kinsley's brows lifted, eyes searching the ceiling. “Well, I didn't expect you to clean it up.” Bridging the gap between us, her palms gripped the edge of the counter as she leaned back. “Thank you.”

Sending her a confused look, I soaped up the sponge and started washing the bowl I used. “For what?”

“For helping Fay. I could tell she was really happy about the whole mattress thing. And trust me, I did everything I could think of to clean that spot. I'm going to need your recipe.”

“Uh, uh, uh,” I said, tisking her lightly. “It's a family secret.”

“That's alright, Fay will remember the stuff you used, I'll figure out the rest myself.” Rolling her head, Kinsley grinned, baring her bright white teeth.

I could kiss her right now.

The smile she sent my way was intoxicating, sucking all the breath from my lungs. I wanted to take her right here, splay her out on the counter and have round two.

Obviously, her daughter being right in the living room, made that impossible. But it didn't stop me from picturing her body bent over the granite counter, legs spread open, taking my cock as I pounded deep inside her.

My dick started to stiffen, pressing up to say hello, and daring me to make her scream my name again. Glancing away, I knew that what had happened the night before, couldn't happen again.

It was wrong for me to take her when she was so vulnerable, so weak and emotional. But I didn't do it because I thought I could, I did it because I wanted her, I needed her.

And she needed me, if only for a night.

But now that I had her, I had to move past the dangerous attraction she painted across my bones. The feeling went deep, too deep to forget, too deep to ignore.

But I have to ignore it.

I hadn't had the chance yet to complete my life's mission. Find my family, find out who I truly was.

The life I lived had been a mess of papers, shifting between families, and never knowing where I came from. I had made a promise to myself, one I planned on keeping.

Find my real family.

How could I ever fully give myself to a woman, when I literally had no clue who the hell I was?

That was my biggest reason for rule number two: Don't give personal information. I lived through that enough when I was a kid. Being asked about my parents, where I was born, if I had siblings.

But the truth was, I didn't know.

My birth certificate was blacked out. I knew I was born on April seventeenth, nineteen eighty-eight, at Hasbro Hospital in New Jersey. Everything else was a mess of thick black lines, and harsh slashes through the most important information... Who I was.

I wasn't even sure if my name was really the one I was given at birth.

The smell of pancakes wafted up and broke my thoughts. “That smells amazing,” I said, letting the savory aroma pull me behind Kinsley. Looking over her shoulder, she let her shoulders brush my chest, sending prickles over my skin.

“So, mattress man, tell me, do you enjoy breakfast after a night hard at work?”

Laughing, I couldn't stop my fingers from tracing her shoulders. “Who doesn't?” Her hair tickled my cheek, tempting me to snuggle into her neck.

Lunging backwards, my feet scraped the tiles. “Something wrong?” Kinsley asked, twisting over her shoulder.

I didn't want to hurt her, but I knew I had to draw the lines back in our relationship. I was hired for her, I wasn't hired to fuck her. Disappointment drew thick crinkles across my forehead, my lips turning razor thin. “Kinsley, about last night—”

“Don't, I get it. You don't need to explain.” Flipping a perfectly golden pancake onto a plate, she held it up for me to take. “But I won't say I regret it. Because I don't.”

“No, I don't regret it either. It's just your friends are paying me, it's not ethical.”

“I know, I understand. Syrup is in the fridge.”

Stepping to the fridge, I snagged the syrup. “It's not just the fact I'm getting paid. I'm not looking for anyone right now, there are things I need to do, to finish. I just don't want you getting the wrong idea.” Placing the plate on the small round kitchen table. “Does she need this cut?” I asked, pouring globs of thick, sticky liquid over the fluffy pancake.

“What?”
She asked, lost in thought, or my words. Maybe both.

“Fay— does she need me to cut this for her?”

“You know for a man with no experience with kids, you're kind of a natural.” Her plump lips curled up, eyes twinkling in a way that made the brown as golden as the sugary liquid spilling from the bottle. “And no.” Tossing me a plastic butter knife, she carried in two more plates of breakfast. “She likes to try and cut them herself.”

“Are you sure you're cool with what happened?” I wanted to know that she wasn't just putting on some act, some fake smile to put me at ease.

I should be able to read her, but right now I can't.

“Yeah, it's cool, Layne. I get it, you're not interested in dating. I'm not going to say I don't think it's weird, especially since that's what you do for a living.” Finishing the pancakes, she turned off the stove. “But don't worry about it, alright?”

I could hear the gray tone in her voice, coating her words with colorless expression. She wasn't any happier than I was. There was something about this woman that drew me in, and I knew she felt the same.

Our personalities meshed like chocolate and peanut butter. She was funny, smart, and sexy as hell. And when I was with her, I felt like the world around me didn't exist. She consumed my thoughts daily, the need to know more about her grew on my brain like fungus.

It was there, and it didn't matter how much I tried to ignore it. The need continued to smolder, festering in the back of my mind, no matter what I was doing.

“Fay, Honey, breakfast.” Kinsley called out.

The tiny patter of excited feet trampled into the kitchen, launching into the chair. “Mattress man, my Mommy makes the best pancakes. Did your mommy make you pancakes when you were little?”

Tilting my head, I answered her wonder. “Well, no. I don't know who my mommy is, Fay.”

Squinting her eyes, the curls fell across her forehead. “You don't?”

Swallowing my mouthful of the best pancakes I had eaten in years, I said, “No, I grew up in a lot of different homes, for kids who didn't have mommies or daddies.”

Suddenly my heart stopped, blood surging my veins like fire. Fay had asked me a question I vowed to keep away from my work. Her innocence had masked the devilish pain I harbored about never giving away my life history.

But to the small curious child, the answer spilled from my tongue without a second thought. I didn't have time to think, when she asked the words just came.

“I have a daddy, but he's in heaven. Mommy says I look just like him, but between you and me...” Fay leaned in, cupping her mouth and speaking as if Kinsley couldn't hear her, despite her being right there. “I'm a girl, daddy was a boy.”

Chuckling, I ruffled her head. “You know you're right, I think you look more like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. All you're missing is the yellow gown.”

Kinsley smiled, not asking about my past. Maybe she caught the large rush of air that I sucked in after answering her daughter, or maybe I had a look that flooded my face.

But her smile was bittersweet, a note of 'don't worry, I get it', mixed with curiosity and timing.

Now was not the time to start digging, not the time to divulge in questions and priming about what I had said.

Kinsley was aware of my rules, and in less than three days, I had broken the first two. My list wasn't long, it wasn't a large run-on sentence with extremely small print. My rules were basic, set in place to keep me focused on what I had been striving to gain.

The first two were rules were the most important, the rest was mostly just for personal retrospect. Rule three: always put the clients needs first. Rule four: never give in to what they might demand, because reality and dreams are totally different. And rule five; always be on top.

On top of my work, on top of my goals, and on top of...

Finding my family.

Kinsley

“S
o, spill it, you never told me, how was the first date?” Gina asked, crossing her leg, and laying back into the dull blue chair in my living room.

“Oh man, let's just say it wasn't a shining moment.” Rolling my eyes, I tucked my palms between my thighs.

“You need to give me more than that, what happened?” Flailing her hand, she nodded at me. “Don't sugar coat it, give me details.”

“Gina, I made a complete ass of myself, as usual.” Laughing, I said, “My date left covered in liquor and with a busted nose.”

Clapping her hands, her face beamed. “That's priceless, he won't forget that night, now will he?”

I couldn't stop giggling, she was right. And it wasn't the first time a date ended in injury. But at least at this point in my life, it was something I could laugh about.

Reaching for the glass of wine on the coffee table, I must have smirked in a way that made it look like I was hiding something. “What are you not telling me?” Gina asked.

Nope, not this time.

Was I going to hide what happened between Layne and myself? Absolutely.

That was between us, not for her greedy little gossip ears to spread to everyone else. And I knew my friend, if she could plaster that news on Twitter or some other social media, she absolutely would.

“Nothing, it's just crazy how I get into those situations. You remember what happened to Kyle back in high school, don't you?”

Shaking her head, Gina's mouth dropped open. “You know I do.”

Back in eleventh grade, I had dated this guy named Kyle for a few months. It should have been a sweet, normal relationship, that ended like any other high school love does. But not for me, not with these feet.

Kyle had taken me to the junior prom, which ended in horror. By the end of the night, I had spilled two sodas on his tux, crushed his feet in my heels, then to my disbelief...