VEGAS follows you home (7 page)

"Are you okay with dating someone you work with?"

She shrugs. "I don't think it will be a problem. We're both adults, besides she is so hot. Whew!" Felicity fans herself. "I could never pick up someone like her in any of the bars around here."

She brings her drink to her lips and drains the last of the dark red liquid. Returning her glass to the table, Felicity sees my empty one in front of me.

"You want another one?"

"No, I have to get back soon. Mercedes is watching Alex and I don't want to even think about what she is feeding him."

"True," Felicity agrees with a nod.

Saying goodbye, we head in opposite directions.

I arrive home to Mercedes sitting on the couch, her cell phone to her ear. With a flick of her wrist, she motions to the hallway.

Stepping into Alex’s room, I find him on his floor with a plethora of colorful blocks surrounding him.

"What are you building?"

Dropping to my knees, I crawl to him.

"Momma," he blurts, clapping his hands.

"Yep, it's momma." Reaching forward, I ruffle his hair. "And you're my little man, aren't you?"

He squeals.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Lying flat on my stomach and propping up on elbows, we build a block tower. His chubby little fingers reach out and knock it down. I rebuild and he does it again, laughing.

His laugh is like a balm to my soul. As we rebuild once more, I look closer at my son. His skin is pale and lightly dusted with freckles, like me. His hair is more of a darker brown rather than the natural red my hair would be if I didn't dye it a much brighter shade. Where my eyes are blue, his are green with amazing gold flecks sprinkled around his pupil. The flecks always remind me of that stage during an eclipse when the sun looks like a bright ring around the moon. Alexander is beautiful, no doubt or mother's bias about it.

Sometimes it's hard to really, truly look at the features he inherited from a stranger. The only thing I know about the donor is the information provided in a folder. I'm still not completely sure why I chose him. But among the mix of all the others, there was just something about the medical student's profile.

Most thought me crazy for having a child with a stranger and to be honest, I still sometimes wonder if I made the right choice in bringing Alex into this world without a father.

Mercedes sits on the floor next to me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"So, did you get the dessert menu finalized?"

Nodding, I ask, "Who were you talking to?"

"Adam," she replies, wistfully.

"Is this Adam the new man you met?"

"Maybe," she states in a singsong voice. Suddenly jumping up from her spot on the floor, she looks down at us. "I'll see you two tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing. I think I’m going to take Alex to the park tomorrow afternoon. So, I'll be down a lot earlier than normal and then take off for a couple hours. I want to get him outside again before it starts getting cold."

She nods, leans over, and kisses Alex on the top of his head.

"Ced," he giggles, pulling away from her kiss.

"Later, gators," she shouts and walks out of the room.

"Bye," I yell.

Alex mimics, yelling, "Buh."

After Ced leaves, it's time to clean up blocks, bathe, and read to Alex before he goes to bed.

The next morning, I work alone for almost two hours. Mercedes and Mrs. Dorn arrive half an hour before Sarah and Emily stroll in together. Greg follows a bit later. With a normal workload ahead of us, we work hard to bust out a few cakes and other baked goods. Mercedes and I even have time to go over the menu for the upcoming event.

Retreating to my apartment, I'm a bit relieved to find that Alex is still asleep.

"Yes," I whisper, tiptoeing down the hall, "I have time for a little nap."

Settling onto the overstuffed couch I refuse to replace until Alex is older, I close my eyes.

"Momma!"

"Of course," I groan.

"Momma!" The squeak of his mattress accompanies his shout.

After yawning and stretching, I pull my body from the couch.

"I'm coming, jumping bean."

Upon entering his room, the scene is just how I expected. His hair is messy, smile super wide, dimples deeply set, and his legs are pumping up and down on the crib mattress.

"Momma!" he giggles when he sees me.

One more yawn creeps up on me as I pick him up and out of the crib.

"Come here." I kiss his head. "You want some cereal and bananas?"

"Nanas,” he cheers.

After breakfast, I dress us both for the September weather. Luckily, it’s a warmer fall day. Tossing my wallet into the baby backpack, we head out the door, the umbrella stroller hanging over my forearm. After one quick text to Mercedes, telling her we left and when we planned to return, I slide the phone into the pocket on the side of the pack.

Lucky to have a space located in Robinson Township, just a few minutes from the major shopping centers, we can walk the short distance to the park. And when we arrive, Alex runs for the slide.

After an hour of playtime, it's time to round up Alex. "Come on, little man. We need to get back."

"No!" he shouts, running for the stairs leading to the slides.

"I really hate that you learned that word," I growl, rushing after him. "Now, come on. We've been here for almost two hours. It's time to get back."

He's halfway up the stairs when I wrap my arm around his waist and pick him up.

"NO!" he screams, kicking his little legs.

"Alexander Isaac!"

At the tone of my voice, he stops the tantrum for a split second.

"Stop it, right now."

He starts right back up, kicking and screaming bloody murder.

Using the mother of all death grips to keep him from getting free, I pop open the umbrella stroller with my free hand. I lift my foot, locking the bar between the wheels into place.

"Settle down, mister," I scold, placing his squirming body into the canvas seat.

He struggles against me, screaming as loud as possible while I strap him in with the harness. The snap of the plastic locks and he completely loses his mind, stretching his body out as far as he can in an attempt to escape the harness. With a deep, do-not-kill-my-child breath, I move behind the stroller and start pushing us away from the playground.

The walk home is unpleasant; joggers and other mothers staring at the screaming banshee I'm pushing along. Remembering the snacks in the backpack, I pull out the little carry cup that latches to the side of the stroller.

It's amazing how fruit snacks can exercise the demon from a possessed toddler. By the time we return home, he's covered in sticky fruit snack slobber and yawning. Instead of going to the side stairs to enter the apartment, we enter through the storefront doors.

"There's my favorite boy!" Mrs. Dorn exclaims, rounding the bakery case with her arms stretched out toward Alex.

"Hey there, big man," Joe, a local plumber and frequent patron, waves to Alex.

"Oh, look at you," Mrs. Dorn laughs, taking Alex into her arms and examining the stickiness on his face. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Looks like the boy had some fun," Joe says.

"Yes, he did." I smile. "How are you today?"

"Same ol’, same 'ol." He returns to his coffee and newspaper.

I fold the stroller and when I look back up, I notice a group of unfamiliar people sitting around a table at the window. I take in the laptops and books surrounding them. College students, maybe?

"Go on back to the kitchen," Mrs. Dorn says without looking at me. "I'll keep Alex up here with me for a bit."

"Are you sure? He's getting tired, which means cranky." Pausing in front of the kitchen door, I give Mrs. Dorn the chance to send him with me.

"He'll be fine. I'll feed him some soup. If he gets too tired, I'll let you know." This time, she looks away from Alex and settles her gaze on me.

"Okay, just yell when he's ready for bed." Taking a couple steps behind the counter, I kiss the side of Alex's head before going into the kitchen.

After hours in the bakery, I finally arrive, exhausted, to the apartment. Erik's voice surprises me.

"What are you doing here?"

Both Mercedes and Erik look up from the table, holding plates of pizza.

"I brought over pizza." He smiles wide and motions to the pizza box on the kitchen counter.

He stands from the table and walks toward me. "I know you said we need time apart, Liv, but you're one of my best friends," he whispers, "I can't just cut you out of my life."

"Erik, I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, we just talked—"

He puts his fingers over my mouth.

"Shh, just be my friend." With a half-smile, he walks back to his seat.

"I'm going to take a shower," I announce, still not comfortable with Erik being here.

In the shower, I try to think of a way to explain to Erik, once again, the need for time apart. It's not just for him. When the water turns cold, I shut it off, climb out of the shower, and get dressed.

Entering the open kitchen area, I lock my gaze on Alex.

"Oh, baby, don't do that." I grab a towel from the counter and try to stop him from further rubbing pizza into his eye.

He yawns large, his head lolling just a bit.

"You eat," Mercedes orders, standing from the table. "I'll clean him up and get him into bed."

"No," I counter. "You've done enough tonight, I'll—"

"Don't argue with me." Mercedes nudges me toward a chair then turns and pulls Alex from his highchair. "I haven't seen you eat since you got back this afternoon. Knowing you, you haven't eaten all day." She eyes me before disappearing down the hall toward the bedrooms.

With Mercedes out of earshot, I finally turn to face Erik.

"We need to talk." I sit down on the dark stained chair.

"We've talked enough," he grinds out, his jaw tight.

"We still need time away from each other. It's too soon to come over like this and you know it. I still need—"

"Olivia, just be my friend, okay?" Erik rubs his forehead, frustration wrinkling his face.

Just as I prepare to argue, there's an unexpected knock at my door.

"Who could that be?" Erik asks, standing.

I beat him to the door and begin to open it.

"Heck, it better be Publisher's Clearing House with a million dollar check right about now, or I’m kicking someone's butt for…what are you doing here?"

My stomach plummets and swallowing is suddenly impossible, not to mention the inability to breathe.

"Sorry, not Publisher's Clearing House." His smile is dark, yet seductive. "However, I could technically write you a million dollar check."

Before me, standing devilishly handsome with his flawless skin, dark brown hair, piercing green eyes, and lips I knew were firm and sensual, is the sole source of my current high blood pressure.

"What," I gasp, barely able to form the word. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I—?"

"Come now, Olivia, did you think I would just ignore these?" He held up a thick manila envelope.

The annulment papers.

"Actually, I was hoping you wouldn't ignore them. I’m hoping you signed and initialed in the appropriate places." Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand firm. "So, you can just return those to my lawyer."

"I guess you still don't realize our situation. Oh, and I'm sure your lawyer doesn't want to deal with me or my legal team." He stands, self-assured, waiting for my reaction.

I open my mouth to tell the psycho to get off my property when Erik interrupts.

"Who's this?" Rounding the door, Erik narrows his eyes on Damon.

The two men lock on each other, Damon looking amused with a bit of menace gleaming in his eyes. His broad shoulders square as he straightens to his full height.

"Who might this be?" Damon directs the question to me.

"I'm Erik, her boyfriend. And you are?"

I snap my head toward Erik before turning fully to face him. I'm about to tell him to stand down when Damon's arm snakes around my body, his hand shooting out toward Erik. I jump, surprised by the move.

"I'm Damon Knyght, Olivia's husband," he replies, smugness entering his voice. I look over my shoulder at him. By the anger flaring in his eyes, it’s clear his words were meant to hurt.

Groaning, I drop my head into my hands. Erik growls, bringing my head back up. Two large men fighting in my home is the last thing I need. Plus, Damon has at least four inches on Erik and a dark anger simmering underneath. I don't want Erik to get hurt.