Kisses and Warfare: A Enemies to Lovers Standalone Romance.

by T. L Smith

  Once I stop shaking, Blaze gets up, his lips glistening with me as he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Standing, he takes his jeans off so I see him. All of him. And I must say, I’m impressed.

  A knock comes on the door when I sit up. My legs are still shaky.

  “Meet your requirements?” Blaze asks, his hand fisting his cock as he slides it up and down. My pussy starts to pulse at the thought of that sliding in me, and me loving every fucking minute of it.

  “Kat.” Shit, Rochelle. “You in there?” She knocks again, not once does he stop stroking himself as he eyes me still on his bed, my skirt bunched up around my waist, my pussy bare for him to see. “Kat!” She bangs again.

  “I’m coming,” I say while standing. Then as I shuffle my skirt down, I walk over to him snatching my phone from the floor. His dick is paused in his hand. “See ya later. Thanks for the head.” I lean up and kiss Blaze’s cheek. He goes to reach for me, but before he can grab hold, I open the door and sneak out, shutting it quickly behind me.

  Rochelle stands there with her hands on her hips, and she’s eyeing me.

  “Ready?” I ask with a smile that’s unable to leave my face. I walk past her and out the doors. When we reach her car, I see Marcus in his, waiting.

  Sliding in, Rochelle starts her engine and turns to me. “Should I even ask?”

  “Probably not.” I smile.

  “Totally not asking then.” She smiles, shakes her head, and we head out.

  We didn’t plan to go for long because Mom is at mine watching Annabelle. We didn’t expect to go out, but I tagged along with her anyway, hoping I might have a bit of fun after putting Annabelle down for the night.

  Pulling up to my house, Rochelle doesn’t turn off the car, just looks to me.

  “Just be careful, all right.”

  “I would say I’m always careful, but Annabelle is proof I am not. So, maybe, I will tell you not to worry because I can always look after me.”

  Rochelle’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly as she speaks, “Blaze isn’t safe. You want safe around Annabelle, do you not?”

  “You are starting to sound like Mother,” I tell her while grinding my teeth. “And I don’t need two Mothers,” I reply to her.

  “You have to forgive her for flipping out, Kat. You didn’t tell her you were pregnant until you were almost six months along, and you know Mom and Dad have old fashioned values. No children out of wedlock. You broke all of them. And yes, she flipped out on you, but she’s made up for that by loving Annabelle,” she says.

  I always have butted heads with my mother, but that day when I finally built up the courage to tell her I was pregnant, I didn’t like her response. The things she said, like ‘you aren’t responsible enough for a kid,’ or my favorite, ‘you can’t even look after yourself,’ were spit from her mouth with disdain. It wasn’t like I was a teenager telling her. I was a grown woman who had a job. Yes, I liked to party way too much, but I don’t do any of that anymore. I work and occasionally go out with my sister. And if I do go out, I make sure to put Annabelle to sleep first. Being a single mom is not easy, and Mom has no idea what it’s like.

  But Rochelle is right, Mom has been trying. She helps whenever I need it, and her snide comments have stopped. And my daughter loves her, so much.

  “It’s a slow process to forgive someone who’s meant to have your back no matter what,” I say to her.

  “But she is trying.”

  “I have to go,” I say, getting out of the car, effectively ending the conversation about Mom. I look back down at Rochelle. “Who I choose to sleep with or spend my time with is up to me, Roch. Not you.” She nods her head, and I walk inside.

  My mother is asleep on my couch with the television still switched on. I turn it off, and she opens her eyes.

  “You’re back. You didn’t go for long.” Mom looks at the time—if I were at work, I would be gone all night. “Your sister gone home already?” she asks, standing and stretching.

  “She has.” I take a deep breath. “I appreciate you always helping with Annabelle, Mother.”

  A tear falls from her eye, but she wipes it away quickly. “It’s what I’m meant to do,” she says, smiling. “You are my daughter, and I love my granddaughter.”

  “I know I’m not where you thought I would be, but I am happy with my life.”

  Mom’s hand goes to her mouth and she hiccups, then I watch her start to cry.

  Fuck! I hate seeing her upset.

  “Mom,” I say while stepping closer.

  She shakes her head, holding out her hand. “I’m proud of you. To raise a child as perfect as Annabelle by yourself is proof of how awesome you are as a person and as a mother.”

  “Even if she is out of wedlock?” I ask.

  “Of course, Kat. It was how I was raised to have children in wedlock, and I had hoped you two would be the same. But you don’t fit into any sort of mold, Kat. Instead, you break the mold. You wouldn’t be who you are if you didn’t.” Mom picks up her purse and heads for the door. “I also know where you work, but your father doesn’t. So, let’s keep it that way. Okay?” She walks out, leaving me standing there, shocked, and unable to respond.

  I pick up my cell and call Rochelle straight away. “Did you tell her where I work?” I yell at her.

  “Wow! Calm the fuck down. And who are you talking about exactly?”

  “Mom! Did you tell her where I work?”

  “Umm… no. Do I want to give her a heart attack? Why would I tell her that?”

  “Because she knows, Roch. Mom just said, let’s keep it between us and not tell your father.”

  “Well, fuck!” she says, clearly as confused as me. “Plus side… she didn’t yell at you and tell you what a piece of shit you are,” Rochelle adds. “That’s a bonus, right?”

  “Yeah, a plus side, for sure,” I mutter, then hang up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kat

  It’s been over a week since I’ve seen Blaze, since his skin touched mine and marked it with something I can’t seem to forget about.

  Rochelle has invited me out, but I’m just not in the mood tonight. I’ve been working all week. There’s been no sign of Blaze, which is good, though every time I leave work, a bike is parked with one of his brothers sitting in the parking lot watching. I don’t think it’s him, but it’s someone from his chapter, as they’re wearing the same patch. We also haven’t had any trouble from the Wretched MC, thank God, because that’s not something I want to deal with.

  “Mommm…” Annabelle purrs next to me, her hand slapping the table. She’s hungry, and our food is taking quite some time to come out.

  “Soon, baby, your food’s coming soon.” I pull my phone out and show her Dora, who she happens to love at the moment, and that seems to occupy her for a good five more minutes until our food is placed in front of us. Annabelle’s food comes in a little paper boat, and she eagerly picks up the veggies and starts to devour them. It’s great she loves to eat broccoli and all the good for you stuff, so I don’t have to fight with her about it. Me? I love to eat hot French fries.

  As we finish eating, a dessert is placed in front of us.

  “Oh, I didn’t order this,” I say, looking down. However, it’s something I will for sure eat because it looks incredible.

  “No, it was paid for by someone else.”

  “Umm… okay. Who should I thank?” I ask, looking around.

  The waiter goes to point, then shakes his head. “They’ve gone. Sorry.”

  “Want some cake, baby?” I ask Annabelle.

  Typically, I wouldn’t feed her sweets of any kind, as I want her to get used to eating all the right foods. The type of nourishment that’s good for her little body. But a small amount here and there shouldn’t affect her too much. I laugh when she takes the piece of cake from the fork and slathers her mouth with it. There’s chocolate going everywhere, and a smile that makes my heart pick up a beat as I watch her. “Good, rig
ht?” I say to Annabelle while she’s eating the rest of it. Wiping her face down with a baby wipe, I pick her up to pay.

  “Your bill has been paid.”

  “Sorry, what?” I ask.

  “Your bill, it’s been paid,” he says as if I don’t understand him.

  Well, I don’t.

  “Was it someone wanting to do a good deed?” I ask, completely confused. This isn’t a fancy restaurant, but they do great steaks and amazing deserts. I like to bring Annabelle here when I am too lazy to cook since they serve some fantastic things for kids.

  “Not that I’m aware of. It was a man, though, if that helps.”

  “Okay, thank you,” I say, then walk out. As I arrive at my car, a figure is standing next to it. Blond hair, blue eyes, and his hands are shoved in his pockets as he leans against my car, waiting for me.

  “Kat.”

  Fucking hell, his voice sends shivers all through me, and not the nice kind. If I weren’t holding Annabelle, I would be throwing something at his head.

  “Mitchell,” I spit out his name.

  I hate his name as much as I hate him.

  Mitchell’s eyes leave mine and flick to Annabelle, then back to me. “She’s beautiful,” he says, stepping away from my car and toward me.

  I grip Annabelle tightly and hold her back. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’ve been ignoring my calls. I got to town and didn’t know where you lived. So, I went out for drinks, and I saw you sitting in that restaurant when I passed. You’re impossible to miss, Kat.” His lip lifts in a soft smile, and I want to punch that smile clean off his face.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I want to know my daughter,” he says, then looks back at Annabelle, who’s currently leaning on my shoulder half asleep. I guess the food coma has hit her hard.

  “Fuck off, you piece of shit,” I say, pushing past him and unlocking my car, then strapping Annabelle in her car seat. I struggle because I’m so angry, and it takes me a few tries to get the buckle to behave. Shutting her door quietly, I walk around to the driver’s side.

  “I will fight if I have to, Kat. I have rights.”

  “Fuck you,” I say while shuffling into the car and shutting the door behind me.

  My hands shake as I drive home. I can’t help but think about that bastard and what he did to me. This whole thing has shaken me to my very core. I never expected to see him again.

  Getting Annabelle, who’s now fast asleep, out of the car, I make my way inside and lay her in her bed, and then head down to pour myself a glass of wine. I try calling Rochelle, but she doesn’t answer, so I call my mother.

  “Mitchell just showed up. Wants to have rights to Annabelle,” I barely manage to say without my voice cracking.

  “I’ll be right there,” she says, and hangs up.

  Wiping at the tears that have formed, I probably have mascara all over my face. It’s not that I didn’t want Mitchell to be in Annabelle’s life. I did. And I tried hard at the time. But when I received an envelope with cash inside asking me to get rid of the ‘problem,’ I cut all ties with him. Mitchell was a one-night stand, and I shouldn’t have expected much from that. So, I didn’t add his name to her birth certificate. She has my last name, not his.

  Almost through my third glass of wine, my mother and father walk in the door, and they both stop when they see me sitting on the couch with wine in hand and tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “Tell me everything,” my father says.

  I get along with him more than my mother, but it was her I called. It was her that I needed.

  “I went out for dinner with Annabelle to the local restaurant, and when we left, Mitchell was there, leaning against my car. He wants rights to Annabelle,” I say, looking up to her room where she’s now sound asleep.

  “He doesn’t deserve them. He missed everything. The asshole,” my mother spits out.

  I smile because she hardly ever swears. I kind of like this side of her.

  “You raised her. Mitchell can’t come in thinking he can change that.” Mom reaches for my glass and takes a sip. “We will get a lawyer tomorrow, and we’ll cover all costs to find a solution.”

  “I agree,” my father says.

  “What if he gets her?” I question, the tears falling again. “She doesn’t know who he is. He didn’t want her. So why now?”

  “He won’t get her,” my mother says, determination set in her eyes.

  Rochelle is at my front door the next day, and I let her inside. My head hurts from drinking all that wine last night, but she doesn’t care as she starts screaming, “That prick,” while shaking her head. “He can’t do that.”

  “He can. But hopefully, it doesn’t go through,” I reply, waving with my hand for her to come in, and then I fall on the couch.

  “So, Mom knows, huh?” Rochelle raises an eyebrow, and I smile, trying to contain my laughter.

  “Yep.”

  “And she didn’t flip her shit?” She sits next to me.

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “But I’m not holding my breath… it could still happen.” I stand and head off to finish getting ready.

  “I can come tonight if you want… to keep you company,” Rochelle offers.

  “I’m working,” I tell her. Mom has Annabelle. I know no harm will come to her, and Mitchell will never be able to reach her while she’s there and protected.

  “I know, I like the place. I can see why you like working there,” she offers with a shrug, getting up and following me around as I get dressed.

  I turn to face her. I didn’t expect that from her. Rochelle must read the shocked look on my face because her nose scrunches up.

  “They respect you… and I mean a lot. The bartender, the security guards, they all talk highly of you. You run a tight ship, but they’re thankful for that.”

  “You got all that from the one night you come in drunk?”

  She waves her hand at me. “Please, I didn’t start off drunk.” Rochelle smiles, making me smile for the first time since Mitchell arrived.

  “I don’t need you to come. Go, spend more time with that man of yours.”

  She blushes at my words. Her hand goes to play with her shirt, and I know it’s an instant warning sign.

  “I think I might be pregnant.”

  Her words make my mouth fall open, and I can’t say anything.

  “I’m not sure, though. I’ve been sick this week,” she says with a shake of her head. “Could be food poisoning. Who knows?”

  “Are your boobs sore?” I ask. It’s our tell-tale sign my mother told me. She had the symptom and so did I. Our grandmother did as well. It’s how she knew when she was pregnant.

  Rochelle’s eyes widen when she looks up at me.

  “Go and take a test.”

  “It’s too soon.” She bites her lip. “Way too soon.”

  “Think of it this way… you have nine months for that baby to cook… if you’re early, that is.”

  Rochelle’s face goes white, and I reach into my cabinet and pull out a spare test I have in there for emergencies. She looks at it and doesn’t take it from my hand. I am sure she thinks it will burn her if she reaches for it.

  “Take it! Take it now, if you think so.”

  Shaky hands reach out to grab the kit from me.

  “I should do it with Marcus. I only came to the conclusion that I might be this morning. And I haven’t seen him.” Rochelle’s head drops. “I want to do it, with him.” She finally takes the test from my hands and holds it in hers.

  “That’s fine. Go home and do it as soon as you can, otherwise it will eat you alive until you do.”

  Rochelle’s an overthinker, and sometimes it’s to her detriment. She nods and leaves. I finish getting ready, and soon I’m pulling up at work. When I do, Fred’s standing there with his hands crossed over his chest, waiting for me.

  “What’s up?” I ask him as he follows me inside.

  The secon
d the doors shut behind me, I stop.

  Oh, fucking hell! Sitting at the bar is Mitchell. He has a drink in hand and one of my girls standing next to him as he smiles at her with those ‘take me to bed now eyes.’ I should warn her to stay the fuck away from him. That man will get you pregnant and run. I wonder how many other kids he has in this world who he doesn’t care for.

  “He asked for you. But I got to tell you, Miss, I didn’t want to let him stay.”

  I turn back to look at Fred—he’s older than me, possibly late forties, and a remarkable guy who’s married with two grown children. “Thanks, Fred, I’ll wave if I need you.”

  “Okay, Miss.”

  Fred eyes Mitchell one last time before he leaves me standing there. I watch Mitchell talk to Silver, one of my girls, who’s wearing her trademark silver wig. His hand touches her arm, and she smiles at him. Silver has been known to fall for the wrong men, a lot. And sometimes it’s almost gotten her fired, as she knows the men she meets here are not here for her to date. They are here for one reason and one reason only—to dance for and nothing else.

  Taking a deep breath, I make my way over to them.

  Silver straightens when she sees me.

  “Silver, go, and don’t attend to this man again, please.”

  Her eyes latch on to Mitchell then back to me. “Yes, Miss.” She walks off, and I take her place standing in front of Mitchell so I can see his reactions.

  The bastard has the audacity to eye me up and down, then he smirks. “You look good, even after a kid.” He doesn’t even bother to say ‘our kid.’ No, just a kid. “So, you work here?” he asks, then looks around. “My lawyer will like that info.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I told you, Kat. I want to know my daughter.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Tell me why.”

  Mitchell lifts the drink he’s holding in his hand, takes a sip before rubbing his lips together, then he answers me. “She is mine, is she not?”

  I scoff at him. “You’re the only low life I’ve slept with.”

  His hand goes to his heart. “You wound me, Kat. Wound me.”