Love in the Fast Lane

by Melissa Kate

  Half an hour later, floating on an inflatable lounger in Emma’s backyard pool, Brielle was starting to feel a small buzz. Emma was flipping through some tabloid as they discussed insignificant details of celebrities.

  “So, what’s the latest with you and Luca?” she asked Emma.

  “We are just playing it day by day. The sex is amazing and the man is sexy as sin but he’s gone more than he’s here. Is that really a life I want?”

  “Is he talking about a long term thing?”

  “Well, he isn’t talking about anyone else.”

  “Does the time he’s here make up for the time he’s not?”

  Emma tilted her head, pondering the thought. “Yes.”

  “Then there’s your answer.”

  “It’s never that simple though, Bree. I want a man who is here during the week. I want a nice homey life and routine. At some point I want a child and I want a father who will be present.”

  “I know.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh honey, I’m sorry! I didn’t even think about the Nate situation!”

  Brielle waved her away and sipped her drink. “Don’t be. There is no Nate situation. He is Noah’s father and as long as he makes the time for his son then I am happy.”

  “But what about last weekend?”

  “That was just that – last weekend. We had fun and then we came back to reality and things changed.”

  “Your mouth says one thing but your eyes speak of another.”

  Brielle sighed. Emma knew her so well.

  “I don’t have a choice, Em. Getting involved with Nate speaks trouble for me and we did this whole thing backward anyway. Noah is already here and my priority is his happiness. We can’t afford to mess it up because we enjoy sex with each other.”

  Emma looked at her pointedly.

  “I like him, yes. I like to spend time with him, yes. But I don’t need him and I don’t want to put myself in that type of situation where I’m consumed. I need to be the adult.”

  “Let’s drink to that,” Emma toasted, “to being responsible.”

  She made it sound so boring.

  “So you’re the big three one next week. What’s our plan?”

  “Something low key, I’m getting old.”

  “Oh, rubbish! Every year we get older. Unless you’re Benjamin Button,” Emma quipped. “Last year we couldn’t celebrate your three decades on the earth because Noah had the chickenpox. This year we celebrate your thirtieth.”

  “But it’s not my thirtieth.”

  “Nobody needs to know that,” Emma waved her away and turned the page of her magazine. “You can just get Nate to take Noah for the night if he’s in the country, or we could get a babysitter.”

  “No need. Noah’s having a sleepover at Tommy’s house next weekend so we can celebrate my twenty-fifth.”

  “Thirtieth.” Emma corrected.

  Brielle stuck her tongue out at her.

  “What the hell?!” she exclaimed suddenly, staring at her magazine as though it grew horns.

  “What? Are one of the Kardashians pregnant again?” Brielle sniggered at her own joke.

  But Emma was not laughing. In fact her face turned a pale red and her eyes squinted, a sure sign that she was angry. “That frikken snake!”

  “What?”

  She glanced warily at Brielle and then handed her the magazine. On the double-page feature was Nate looking absolutely gorgeous in an Italian-cut suit and a breathtaking woman draped all over him, including her tongue in his mouth. The very woman he had come to see the Brentwood Hills home with. Brielle’s heart sank. Despite all that BS she had just fed Emma about Nate, she did like him and seeing him with another woman made her uncomfortable. But maybe this was taken well before they had slept together. She read the caption on one of the photos:

  Hot shot racecar driver, Nate Wolfe with smoldering hot Wolfe pack fan, Mena Williams at the opening of one of the most sought after clubs in Austin, Texas last month before his accident at the acclaimed race track

  Brielle was floored. Was he sleeping with this woman just weeks before her? Was she just another one of the women in his Wolfe pack? The cold shoulder she was getting from him certainly gave her that impression. Well she was done. No longer was she going to hold the door open for Nate. Nope, that door has officially closed.

  Yet the disappointment remained. She had hoped that Noah’s father would be a more honorable man than the typical celebrity with a different woman on his arm each week. But that name made her ears burn. Where had she heard ‘Mena Williams’ before? Perhaps she was some model or something. She sure looked it.

  Brielle handed the magazine back to a visibly irritated Emma. “Let it go, Em. I’m not fazed, he’s not my boyfriend, he’s just Noah’s father.”

  Emma looked at her a long while, as though assessing the level of truth from her words.

  “I’m fine,” she reassured her friend who relaxed back into her inflatable lounger, already flipping onto the next pages.

  But yet the drop of disappointment remained.

  By the time the evening rolled around, Brielle had worked up more than a slight buzz. She’d tried her best to pace herself but she almost never had the time for herself, to just let loose and so she’d grabbed it with both hands and savored it. A little too much she reasoned with herself as the world spun a little around her.

  Emma had called Matt to drive Brielle home because she didn’t trust her driving on a sober day, never mind at a time when she was oh so slightly inebriated.

  He parked his car outside her house and like a true gentleman, walked around to open the car door for her.

  “You ok, kiddo?” he asked, a bemused smirk on his handsome face.

  “Of course,” Brielle retorted, climbing out of the car. “I’m not drunk, just very buzzed.” She smiled languidly. Together they walked to her front door and she fumbled with her keys before Matt took them from her and opened the door.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. She reached up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a warm hug and held him to her.

  “What was that for?” he asked when she pulled away.

  “For always just being there. I’ve never had a man in my life that I could depend on except you.” She knew that she must look a mess with her wild hair and flushed cheeks.

  She heard someone clearing their throat and cough a few paces away from her and she turned in surprise.

  “Nate?” she asked tentatively, peering through the dark to see him next to his Land Rover.

  “Yeah,” he grunted, not looking pleased.

  What was he in such a huff about?

  “Where’s Noah?” she asked, suddenly wide awake. “Is he ok? Oh God, did something happen?” She was starting to panic and almost leaped toward him.

  “He’s fine,” Nate grunted again, his eyes almost a dark moss color. How had that happened? “He’s in the back seat. Asleep.”

  “Why did you come back? What happened?” she peered through the window and found a sleepy Noah staring back.

  “I was putting him to bed and he wouldn’t stop crying. Demanded to come home. I’ve been waiting out here for an hour.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I’ve been trying. You didn’t pick up.”

  Brielle opened her purse and searched for her cell phone. Sure enough, there were fourteen missed calls from Nate. And her phone was set to silent. “I’m sorry, it was on silent.”

  Nate merely gave her a hard look.

  She ignored him and went to get her son. Where did he get off acting all self-righteous? She was not the irresponsible parent for not picking up her phone. Noah was with his father, who she thought was a capable parent. She reached for Noah and he crawled into her arms.

  “You ok, Pumpkin Pie?” He nodded,
a sad look in his eyes as he clung to Brielle.

  “Everything ok?” Matt asked as he walked toward them.

  “Yeah, it’s ok Matt. Noah was just a little homesick.”

  “Oh darn. That’s too bad.” He fixed his gaze on Noah. “Feeling better now buddy?”

  Noah nodded and buried his head in Brielle’s neck.

  “Thanks for tonight, Matt,” Brielle addressed him. “But I have to take care of Noah.”

  “Don’t mention it Bree,” he returned before touching her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

  He nodded in acknowledgement to Nate and then he was in his car and driving off.

  Brielle walked into the house and was astonished to find Nate close on her heels. “I’m fine from here, Nate.”

  “Yeah, you look fine.” He remarked coldly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Have a few sun-downers with your friend’s brother?”

  Brielle’s irritation sparked. Where did he get off telling her what she could or could not do. She didn’t bother to correct him about his insinuation about her and Matt. Let him stew on that.

  “Give me a minute and then we will have this conversation.” She headed into Noah’s room and lay her child on his bed. “What happened tonight sweetheart?” Brielle coaxed.

  Noah shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Were you scared?”

  He nodded and shrugged at the same time.

  “Was your dad mean to you?”

  He shook his head vehemently.

  “Did you have fun in the day?”

  Noah nodded, a sad look reaching his green eyes.

  “Did you just miss home?”

  He nodded slowly, a lone tear trailing down his little face.

  “Honey, you have nothing to feel sad about, ok? There’s no shame in you wanting to come home.”

  “I think I disappointed Dad.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “The look on his face. He looks mad.”

  “Honey, your daddy can never be disappointed in you. If anything, he’s probably mad at me. So, don’t overthink it, ok?”

  Noah nodded again, the sad look remaining.

  Brielle reached for him and hugged him close to her. “I love you.”

  “Love you,” he murmured before kissing each of Brielle’s cheeks and nuzzling her nose then, turning to his side he quickly drifted off to sleep.

  The poor tyke, he was fighting sleep the whole time just so he could see her and make sure Nate was not angry with him.

  Brielle closed Noah’s bedroom door behind her and stormed off to find Nate, who was casually leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “What gives you the right to come into my house and throw accusations at me?” she hissed between clenched teeth. She didn’t wait for him to answer before she fired at him again. “I didn’t get to have a life while I was raising our son – alone! I didn’t get to go traipsing around to fancy events with a model on my arm, Nathan. So, cut me some God damn slack if I have a drink on the one night in six years that I have had one moment, one god forsaken moment to let loose and have fun.”

  Nate just stared at her. Eyes dark and his expression aloof.

  “And the next time you want to throw a bitch fit at me, do it away from Noah because he thinks you are disappointed in him after all of that.”

  Nate had the decency to look affected. “I’m not upset with him.”

  “You can’t be. He’s done nothing wrong.”

  He opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it.

  “Tell him I will call him tomorrow,” he grunted before pushing himself off the counter and walking out the door into the cool, dark night.

  What the hell had just happened?

  The next day, Nate paced anxiously around his apartment, waiting for time to pass so it would be a decent hour to call Noah. The bomb Brielle had dropped last night had eaten at him all night, being the major cause of his insomnia. How could Noah think for even a second that Nate would ever be disappointed in him? Hell, he made Nate proud at every turn.

  When nine a.m. rolled around, he couldn’t wait any longer and dialled Brielle’s land line.

  Noah picked up after five rings, “Haaalloooo.”

  “Hey champ,” Nate greeted, his heart lifting.

  “Hi, Dad.” Noah’s voice dropped and Nate’s heart fell with it.

  “Hey, Noah. How are you?” Nate felt awkward. His usually easy-going child was being so closed off.

  “I’m fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Eating Cheerios.”

  “Is your mom up?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “Making yoba?”

  “Yoba?”

  “Yeah she’s a pretzel.”

  “Oh, yoga!”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Can I come and see you?”

  “Okay,” Noah answered sullenly.

  Despite that Nate felt like his son was at an emotional distance with him, he jumped in his Mustang and opened her out on the road as he sped toward Noah, offering a little reprieve as he revved the engine and accelerated onto the highway. Fifteen minutes later he knocked on Brielle’s door and was greeted by his half pint.

  Noah looked up at him with sad eyes and Nate bent down to his level.

  Before either of them could open the conversation, Nate wrapped his large arms around the small child and enveloped him in a hug. Noah barely moved.

  “I missed you,” Nate whispered against his shaggy brown hair and to his surprise, he felt two thin arms slide around his neck and squeeze him.

  Nate held on as long as Noah would allow him before pulling apart.

  The sadness remained in the boy’s eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Nate pressed.

  Noah shrugged his small shoulders.

  “Tell me buddy. Do you think I’m disappointed in you?” Nate recalled Brielle’s words the night before.

  Noah shrugged and nodded at the same time.

  “Why would you think that, Noah?”

  He shrugged again.

  “Tell me, son,” Nate prompted.

  “Cos I cried like a girl and I wanted to come home to mom.”

  “Oh, Noah,” Nate gushed. “I would never think that way. You can never disappointment me. You don’t need to put on any type of face around me. If you want to cry then you cry, as long as you tell me why, ok?”

  Noah nodded, a small sparkle in his eyes.

  “It’s normal that you would feel anxious, spending your first night with me, away from your mom and your familiar home. But I don’t want you to feel scared anymore. I want you to be comfortable because my home is yours now too.” He let his words sink in with Noah before adding, “And I want you to spend a lot more time with me too.”

  Noah beamed and Nate felt like the sun could shine again.

  If Nate was honest with himself, he’d admit that Noah’s performance the night before was a kick to the gut. He’d felt so useless, not being able to pacify the child. He’d been helpless and the only option that presented itself was to take him back to Brielle’s. But that was in no way the young boy’s fault.

  The real kicker was that he’d been struggling to deal with the wailing child. It had brought out every doubt he’d ever had about procreating and the crappy father he would undoubtedly be. And while he had been tortured, Brielle had been out having a grand old time with Emma’s brother. Granted she did deserve some fun after single-handedly raising their child, as she’d duly stated, but did she have to look so pleased with herself about it. And right after she’d spent the weekend with him? Hadn’t she assured him she wasn’t seeing Matt?

  The usually agreeable Brielle was all guns blazin
g at him the previous night, not even allowing him the window to blow off some of his steam. No, instead she’d looked flushed and completely fucked. Which had royally pissed him off. Even more so than seeing her pressed up tight against the loser as she whispered who knew what in his ear. The look she’d given Matt had been like a punch in the chest. No man wanted to see the woman he’d bedded just a week earlier, staring adoringly into another man’s eyes.

  Fuck, what if Noah had seen them?

  But that was not what had put the bee up his butt. Nope, he was just outright pissed to see her with another guy. And for what? It’s not like he wanted a commitment. He’d made sure things were left casual.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She’s in the shower.”

  Despite how pissed he was at Brielle, he found himself reminiscing about the time that they had shared a shower together and how they had soaped off every inch of each other and then proceeded to lick off any and all traces of moisture from the other’s body afterward.

  “Ok, well I’m going to go then kiddo. I just wanted to come by and make sure you were ok.”

  Noah beamed again and leaned into Nate for another hug.

  Nate felt a lot better as he walked out and got into his car… About one Woods anyway.

  CHAPTER 16

  ON THE MORNING OF HER birthday, Brielle awoke to the sound of shattering glass somewhere in the house. She awoke with a start and instinctively grabbed for the baseball bat she kept in her closet. She tiptoed quickly toward Noah’s room and panic gripped her throat to find his bed empty. The intruders had already gotten him! She moved toward the clamoring in the kitchen only to find the place an absolute mess. There were flour and eggs splashed across every surface of the floor and walls, dishes piled across the counters and in the sink, and in the center of it all stood little Noah, with an apron that fit him too long and the rest of the flour covering him from head to toe.

  He stared at her when she walked in, like a deer caught in headlights. “Happy Birthday, Mom,” he greeted, somewhat sheepishly.

  “Oh sweetheart! Was this all you?” she gestured to the epic kitchen mess.

  He nodded enthusiastically. “I was gonsta make you pancakes but I kept forgetting the recipe, and if I had added eggs or not. It’s so confusing, trying to remember it all. I’m sorry I couldn’t get it ready before you woke up.” He looked so sad that she couldn’t even begin to get angry at the mess that she was bound to clean up.