by Kensie King
“I can come get him,” I assured her. “I won’t be later than eleven or twelve.”
At least tonight. I felt too guilty leaving Tucker overnight right now. Not after bailing on him last week, too.
I kissed Tucker’s cheek. “Bye, buddy. I love you.”
“Love you, Daddy,” he said, then took Zoe’s hand and walked down the stairs.
Daddy. God, that still killed me. When Tucker had come to me, he barely talked and wouldn’t make eye contact. And what had I known about kids? I was an uncle, not a dad. But my sister had left him to me in her will, and while it shocked me, I was so grateful she left him to me instead of his actual dad. If my sister even knew who he was. Probably some other drug addict she’d met at a party.
No wonder Tucker hadn’t felt comfortable around me. I couldn’t imagine what his home life had been like, but from the little I’d seen, it wasn’t good.
I only wished I had done something sooner—or at least tried to have Tucker over more. To give him a more stable lifestyle.
Regardless, he was doing so much better now. And I was a dad.
Good or bad, this was my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Less than ten minutes later, Mason arrived on my doorstep, exactly on time.
I opened the door before he rang the bell. “Hey—I saw you pull up.”
He gave me an easy smile. “Right on time.”
I laughed and nodded. “Much better than last week. Thank you. I appreciate promptness.”
“Me too.”
It made sense. He was running a business. He had to stick to a schedule and be smart about it. Toxic was a thriving bar and it seemed to run smoothly.
“Another check in the grown-up column,” he said as I waved him into the house.
“We’re doing better than we thought.”
“I brought this, too.” He passed over a bottle of wine.
I skimmed the label and nodded. “Very good. I guess we should just throw it all out the window—what we were talking about last week. This feels very much like being an adult.”
“You’re right. It does.”
His eyes lingered on mine so long, I thought he might go in for a kiss right there. And I would have let him. He smelled good, looked great, and I was already wondering what it would feel like to have him touch me. To run his fingers down my cheek and tangle his tongue with mine.
“Your place is nice,” he said after a moment, moving further into the living room.
“Thanks. I’ve had it for a few years. I’m still working on it.”
I was. I’d fallen in love with the home but it wasn’t exactly what I needed for a family, so I’d been working on it slowly but surely.
“The kitchen, though,” I said leading him in that direction. “Is finished.”
I would have shown him the rest of the house, but then I would have risked letting him see an errant train or one of Tucker’s toys. That wasn’t something I was ready to talk about yet. Not until I saw how tonight went.
And then…well, I’d get to that when the time came. I’d made the mistake of telling men on the first date that I had a five-year-old and most of the time it soured the mood. But I never waited long either. I wasn’t ashamed of my son, and if someone wasn’t on board with my lifestyle then good riddance.
“Wow. This is great,” Mason said, his eyes taking in the room.
I’d gone with dark woods, giving the kitchen a moody feel—and keeping me sane because it hid the dirt.
His words gave me a rush of pleasure. I wanted him to be comfortable here. I liked entertaining and I could tell most people enjoyed the space.
“I bet this is the first room you did,” Mason said, walking around the room and examining everything.
“Absolutely. I can manage without a perfect backyard or a professional looking office. But the kitchen has to be just right.”
He stopped at the edge of the counter, just a few feet from me. “It suits you.”
My throat dried a little. God, his eyes were so blue. And so direct. Even though a soft smile played at the corner of his lips, it was like he was sucking me in with just a look.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
I set down the wine but his gaze didn’t waver. All he did was shift his hand just slightly so it rested against mine.
“You look nice,” he said, making my cheeks warm again.
“So do you.”
His thumb brushed my knuckles. “So what’s for dinner?”
Chapter 5
MASON
This was wrong on so many levels. Wrong because I was enjoying myself, wrong because I liked Ryan far more than expected, and wrong because I could picture myself doing it all over again next week.
As we talked over pasta and wine, I tried to focus on his words while simultaneously chiding myself.
When things felt right, they weren’t necessarily wrong.
It had just been so long since I’d been here. On the brink of believing I could have more of a relationship than a one-night stand or a brief fling.
Ryan was put together, responsible, straightforward, and sexy as hell. Tate had made fun of me for trying hard tonight, but Ryan was wearing a nice button-up that brought out his eyes and looking every bit as professional.
And it was making my mouth water.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asked when I went quiet.
I flashed him an immediate smile. “Yes. Dinner is excellent. How long have you been a chef?”
“It feels like my whole life. I bussed tables at my parent’s place when I was a kid and when I got old enough, my dad put me on the line. It was an old diner—burgers, fries and all that.”
“Those really good malts and milkshakes?”
He smiled, completely sincere. Fuck, that was hot. Just something as simple as a smile—aimed at me. “Yes. All the flavors, but you know chocolate and vanilla are always the best.”
“No strawberry?”
He made a face and I laughed. “I’m allergic to strawberries, so…”
“Tragic.”
“As a chef, it sort of is. I like to be able to taste everything I work with. But back then, it was all burgers all the time. When my parents decided to close the diner, it hurt. It was like a piece of my childhood slipping away. If I’d had the money, I would have bought them out—or convinced my sisters to help me if they’d been interested.” He shrugged, getting lost in thought for a moment. Then he smiled at me. “But my parent’s friends owned an Italian place, so I got started there and made enough to put myself through culinary school to learn the rest.”
“I really admire people who take charge of their lives like that—especially when they’re young. I feel like I floundered a bit before I got my ass in gear and on the right track.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. His blue eyes looked like sapphires in this light, and his lips were curved in a secretive kind of smile that made me want to hear him talk more. To learn all about him.
Which, I realized, was just another thing that made this different from my usual dates. I usually tried to pick places that would give us a distraction. That way if the conversation was stilted or it got too serious, we could find some other way to entertain ourselves.
But I couldn’t stop listening to Ryan. He had an easy way about him that made people want to open up. Stay longer.
And I couldn’t deny I wanted to kiss him. To feel his arms around me, the strength in his hands when they brushed over my bare skin.
“Did you go to college?” he asked.
“I did. Studied business. Then decided I hated it.” I grinned at him. “Fortunately, it came in handy a few years later.”
“With the bar.”
I nodded. “I spent a lot of time enjoying life and trying new things and…meeting people in college instead of focusing on school. But it turns out most of it stuck.”
And soon after, I’d met the first man—the only man—I’d ever loved. And it had cost me.
He held my gaze for a long moment, looking like he wanted to ask something more. After a moment, he smiled again. “How about family? Brothers or sisters?”
“Nope. Only child. I don’t think my parents could have handled more than one of me.”
Ryan laughed, and the husky sound shot straight to my groin. Fuck. I wasn’t sure how to balance this. Usually, it was just sort of assumed it would get physical. After all, I wasn’t going on dates to find the love of my life.
That had already happened and it had blown up in my face.
No, I was just out there to have fun, to meet new people. To distract myself from work and life.
But that wasn’t what I wanted with Ryan. I realized it in an instant. I wanted to know him. And, of course I wanted to be physical with him, but not if it meant stilting the potential relationship.
When he started cleaning the table, I gathered items and followed him to the kitchen.
“You really don’t have to help. I figured I’d just bring out dessert,” he said.
I set the plate on the counter and put a hand to my chest. “Dessert? Really? You’re spoiling me.”
“Well, it’s no milkshake, but I did make it myself.”
I lingered and watched while he pulled over a shiny glass tray with a cover, like one of those fancy ones you’d see in a movie. Or Martha Stewart’s house.
The whole presentation, the fact that he was so domestic, made me smile. “You’re really good at this,” I murmured, then grinned at him. “Like my grandma.”
His laughter filled the kitchen. “Wow. Best compliment I’ve had in years.”
“It is a compliment. My grandma was amazing—still is. But you’re a lot sexier than her.”
I was rewarded with another winning smile, and his cheeks tinted pink, which nearly killed me. It felt like no matter what this man did it was going to be endearing to me.
I was so screwed.
“Thank you,” Ryan said, dropping his gaze.
I stepped closer to him, dying to reach out and touch him. Dying for any kind of contact—and hoping he wanted the same thing. “Please tell me you wore an apron when you made this.”
His eyes came back up, a mischievous look in them. “Can’t give away all my secrets.”
When his gaze lingered, my whole body came alive, my cock lengthening in my pants just slightly. Fuck, he was so cute. So perfect. How had this happened?
He’d come out of nowhere.
Ryan moved around the edge of the counter, close enough his shoes almost touched mine. “I hope I’m not reading this situation wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
My lips parted. “I was hoping it wasn’t just me.”
He closed the distance, one hand lifting to my cheek. When I would have gone for speed and heat, he went slow and sweet, and it nearly brought me to my knees.
His thumb brushed my cheekbone as his gaze dropped to my lips. If he didn’t kiss me right now, I was going to spontaneously combust.
“You smell good,” he murmured, breath touching my lips.
I ran my hand up his arm, pleased at the curve of muscle underneath, and feathered my fingers into the back of his short hair. Then I angled my head at the same time he did.
He tasted first, just a soft kiss that was more erotic than most I’d had in the past. I ran my tongue over his bottom lip, and he groaned, giving me more confidence.
He wanted this as much as I did.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
His tongue plunged into my mouth. The movement was so abrupt and so sexy, I went hard instantly.
My cock strained against my slacks, throbbing with need. I slid into the moment, shutting out the rest of the world, all my thoughts—everything.
All I wanted right now was to feel, to enjoy. It had been a long time since I’d really wanted someone else’s hands on me. And his hands were divine.
Ryan shifted me so my back was against the island, taking charge in a way I hadn’t expected. I went with it because it felt so good not to have to think.
His breath was hot on my mouth, heart racing against mine in his chest. When I pressed closer, I felt the hardness in his pants and it only made me want him more.
I forgot that I wanted to take this more slowly. I forgot everything except how badly I needed him right now.
His fingers moved at the buttons of my shirt. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
My mouth fused to his again while I let my hands run down his side and then grip his ass, hauling him against me so he could feel the hard length of my cock.
He gave something resembling a whimper, making me leak pre-cum in my underwear. Why had I been worried? We were on the same page. And god, I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to.
Not with his hands sliding under my shirt, his warm fingers brushing my nipple, his tongue dancing against mine, massaging it. I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it aside before stepping back up to him.
I rubbed my hand over the bulge in his pants, making him whimper again.
“That feels so good,” he said.
I spun him around this time, pressing his back to the refrigerator so I could grind up against him. The friction alone nearly made me come.
Then a noise sounded behind me. I blinked, my fingers frozen on the button of his pants.
“My phone,” he mumbled against my lips.
“What?”
I eased back just slightly and focused on the phone buzzing at the edge of the counter.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking flustered. “It might be important. I have to—”
Then he was stepping toward the counter, grabbing his phone while I stood there, complete hard and still wanting more from him.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again, checking the screen of his phone before pressing a button. “I have to get this. Hello?”
I shoved a hand through my hair, not sure if I was amused or frustrated. Ryan didn’t seem like the kind of guy to take a call during the middle of a make-out session unless it was important.
But god, I was barely holding on here.
His eyes lifted to mine while he talked. “Okay. Does he have a fever? Uh-huh. Not bad, but…” He dropped his chin again, looking defeated. “No. I totally understand. I’ll come get him.”
Confused, I watched as he ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket.
“I’m so sorry. I—” His mouth hovered open for a long moment before he said softly, “I have to go pick up my son.”
Chapter 6
RYAN
The next day, I did laundry, cleaned house, did all my normal weekend chores, while Tucker relaxed on the couch.
He’d thrown up a few times overnight, but then his small fever had lifted and he was acting like nothing had happened.
It might have alarmed someone who wasn’t used to having kids, but I was feeling like a pro at this by now.
Kids got sick like this all the time. A high temperature, a cough, a couple episodes of vomiting. It often seemed extreme, but it was usually swift to start and swift to end.
Tucker was practically begging to go to the park by the time lunchtime rolled around, but I made him sip Sprite and try some toast first.
When I walked back through the kitchen, I paused by the counter. The cake I’d made last night still sat in the dish, untouched. And the jacket Mason had left here was folded neatly on the back of a chair.
I rubbed my hand on my jaw and cursed. I’d ruined it last night. If I’d told Mason up front that I had a kid, he wouldn’t have been so shocked to end our evening on such an abrupt note.
With both of us struggling to get ourselves under control.
God, he’d felt so good when he’d pinned me against the refrigerator, his hips shoved against mine hard enough I could feel the heat and length of his dick. His tongue plundering my mouth while his hands roamed all over.
I wasn’t
sure how far it would have gone, but I wanted it. I’d wanted all of him.
And then I’d gone and ruined it.
The even shittier thing was that I’d wanted to tell him. I’d wanted this to be something more than one night of fun. I should have been up front, but then what?
Mason was the owner of a bar. He didn’t have kids—didn’t even seem altogether settled from what I’d seen.
A kid would scare him off.
With another curse, I grabbed my phone off the counter and paged through my contacts to find Mason’s number. I debated whether or not to call him and finally settled on a text.
I’m so sorry about last night. I was having a great time and I didn’t mean to end it so abruptly. Sorry about the surprise, too. You left your jacket here—I can drop it by if you need it.
My finger hovered over the button. Did I say anything else? Ask him if he wanted to try again?
Or had I already fucked it up too much?
I set the phone down again and went to finish my laundry.
Tucker darted after me, full of energy and completely over whatever bug had plagued him last night.
“The park!” he yelled. “Let’s go to the park!”
“Did you finish your toast?”
“And my drink. I want to play—Daddy, we should—”
“Okay, hold on,” I said gently. I picked him up and set him on top of the washer so I could pull the clean clothes out of the dryer and keep an eye on him. “We can probably go the park, but I have to finish cleaning first.”
And what I really wanted was to swing by Toxic and talk to Mason, but that was so desperate. He’d get back to me if he was interested.
“Fold the clothes!” Tucker cheered.
“And I need a shower, too,” I told him.
I’d been up half the night while Tucker was sick and hadn’t done much more than wash sheets and make sure the bathroom and his bedroom was completely disinfected. I didn’t have the energy to go to the park, but I was going to have to find it somewhere. I needed to spend time with him—for him to know I was here.
I knew Tucker probably didn’t remember what had gone on when he’d been younger, but I still felt obligated to show him as much love as possible. To make every day for him as good as possible.
