One Night Baby - A Romance Compilation

by Tia Siren

  “Sorry,” I mumbled when Scarlett looked at me.

  I saw the familiar pity in her eyes and hated it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice.

  “We should go. We’ve got a lot to get done before school tomorrow, Ella,” I said, taking her hand in mine.

  “Bye, Ella.” Scarlett waved. “Have fun at school, and learn a lot.”

  Ella shrugged. “I’ve already learned everything.”

  Scarlett burst into laughter. I groaned.

  “You haven’t learned everything,” I told her. It was the same conversation we’d had numerous times over the past couple weeks. “Your teacher is going to teach you new things.”

  Ella shook her head. “Uh-uh. She says I need to be in a different classroom because I am too smart.”

  “Too smart for your own good,” I quipped.

  “I think you are a very smart girl,” Scarlett said, agreeing with my daughter and making an instant friend.

  “Let’s go,” I said, tugging Ella along beside me.

  I glanced back and saw Scarlett watching us leave. She and I exchanged a look. It was a look that made me feel very manly. I knew what it was. Women loved men with kids; it appealed to that basic instinct most of them had. I never talked about my daughter with any of the women I met at the bars. She was off-limits.

  It almost felt like a violation to have Scarlett meet my little girl. It shouldn’t have. She was too young for me, and my next-door neighbor clearly had a lot of baggage. That was not something I wanted to get into.

  “Come on, smarty pants. It’s time to get you in the tub,” I said to Ella as we walked through the front door.

  It was times like these I felt the emptiness of the house. It was too big for me and Ella, but I didn’t want to move now that Becca had died. It was the only home Ella knew, and I didn’t want to take that away from her as well.

  Chapter Five

  Scarlett

  I had to find a job today. Ideally, I wanted a job somewhere in the music industry that would allow me to put my degree to good use. One would think a bachelor’s degree in music production would get me in the door of one of the many recording studios in town. It didn’t. You had to know someone, and in this city, everyone knew someone else. I wasn’t on the inside of the music world—yet.

  My parents were willing to keep me afloat until I got the right job. I had told them I could get any job, but they had insisted I put my education to use. I had tried to explain I didn’t technically need a degree; they’d urged me to get an education anyway. I hated mooching off them, but they insisted they worked hard so they could give me a comfortable life.

  The winery they had started thirty years ago had become very successful. They were doing well for themselves and certainly had the extra money to spend. It didn’t make it any easier to take from them, though.

  I clicked on yet another interesting job that had come up on my online job search. It didn’t exactly pay well, but I had to start somewhere. I was going to have to be the coffee girl or what was also referred to as an intern. It was the only way I could get my foot in the door. I filled out the app and hit send at the same time the Skype window popped up.

  It was my parents. I smiled when I answered it and found myself staring at the dining room ceiling of my parents’ house.

  “Mom? Dad?” I asked.

  “We’re here, honey. Can you see us?”

  “No. I can see the ceiling. Move the laptop screen down a little,” I instructed.

  This was a new thing for them. I loved technology that allowed me to keep in touch. My parents were in their mid-fifties and still working on learning “the gadgets” as they referred to them.

  “There you are!” I said as my mom’s face popped up.

  “Can you see me now?”

  “Yep. What are you guys doing?”

  “We wanted to check in on you. Dad’s here too,” she said, moving the laptop to show my dad, who was grinning and waving.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “How’s the house?” he asked.

  “It’s great. Thank you. Very big!”

  He chuckled.

  “My next-door neighbor is a cop,” I told them.

  That made them happy. “Great!”

  “I have to change my number,” I said in a serious tone.

  I hadn’t done it yesterday. Isaac hadn’t called all day Sunday or yesterday. I had been hoping that meant he had gotten the picture. But then, this morning, the calls had started to come in.

  “Oh no,” my mom said. “Damn that man!”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll change my number and text you with it when I get it.”

  “How’s the job search going?” my dad asked.

  I sighed. “I’ve applied for several. I’ll keep looking. I’ll start knocking on doors if I have to.”

  “You don’t have to do anything. Take your time and find the right one. There’s no rush,” my mom said.

  “I will.”

  “We’d like to come for a visit,” my dad interjected.

  “Well, I certainly have the room.” I laughed.

  “We’re hoping next week sometime. We’ll let you know for sure.”

  I nodded. “I would really like that. I miss you guys,” I said, choking back a sob.

  “We miss you too. This is for the best, Scarlett. We’ll visit, and as soon as things die down, you can come home and visit.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “Okay. We’ll let you go. We just wanted to check in on you.”

  “Bye, guys. Thank you for checking in. I love you,” I said and waved good-bye.

  The screen went blank, and I closed the laptop.

  I filled out a few more applications before showering and leaving the house to go get my new number. I needed to pick up a few groceries as well. I wasn’t going to be doing a lot of eating out. It was weird to do it alone all the time. It wasn’t like I had a job or school. I could cook at home and save some money.

  I used my GPS to find a cell phone store to get my number changed. I had to pay for parking and figured I might as well do a little exploring while I was there. It wasn’t like I had a busy schedule. I kicked around downtown, did a little window-shopping, and bought a few things for the house at a secondhand store. Then it was a quest to find a grocery store that wasn’t too far from my house.

  I needed to get familiar with my neighborhood. It would help me feel more at home and less like a visitor. I pulled into the grocery store and roamed the aisles, tossing in snacks and freezer meals. I wasn’t a cook. I should have pulled up recipes before I made my way to the grocery store. Next time, I promised myself.

  I had to use the GPS to find my way home, but I was confident I could find my way around on my next outing.

  I pulled into the driveway, looked around, and didn’t see Isaac’s car. It was another one of those habits that would be hard to break. So often he would be waiting for me when I got home. At first, it was sweet and I loved that he cared so much. Then, it became a nuisance. Over the past year, it became downright scary.

  I grabbed a few bags out of the trunk of my car and made my way to the front door. I froze when I saw the dozen red roses in a glass vase sitting on the front porch. My palms grew sweaty as my heart pounded in my chest. I looked around again, waiting to see Isaac pop up.

  I knew it was him. I knew it with every fiber of my being. He’d always sent me roses. Sometimes they would be on the windshield of my car or a few would be sitting outside the front door of my apartment. I stood staring at the roses, unable to take another step forward.

  He had found me.

  How?

  I carefully put the grocery bags on the porch, afraid to set them near the vile flowers. I took a deep breath and pulled the card off the flowers.

  No matter what, I’ll always love you. I’ll give you your space. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.

  He didn’t sign his name. He didn’t have to. I knew his handwriting.
I knew the way he talked. I stared at the card in my shaking hands. He knew where I lived. Moving had done nothing. He could still get to me, and I had only made things worse by running away. Isaac was never going to leave me alone.

  I grabbed the vase, walked toward the garbage can pushed up against the garage, and threw it inside. I dropped the lid and stared at the trash can. Tears rolled down my face unchecked. I turned to head back to my car to grab the rest of the groceries and saw my neighbor standing in his own driveway, staring at me.

  He smirked. “I take it red isn’t your color?”

  I couldn’t joke. I wasn’t up for sarcasm. I used the heel of my hand to wipe away the tears staining my cheeks and ruining my makeup.

  “Red’s fine. They’re from my ex—the one I called and reported the other night.”

  He looked at me, and I saw the second realization dawned. “Oh,” he mumbled.

  I nodded. “Yes, oh. He knows where I live now,” I wailed.

  I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. I grabbed the remaining bags from the trunk of my Nissan Maxima and headed inside. The excitement I had felt about putting away my groceries in my new kitchen and decorating with the stuff I had gotten at the thrift store was lost.

  What was the point? I didn’t need to stay here anymore. I could go home and return to my old life. Clearly, there was nowhere I could go to escape him.

  The broken windows had only been a one-time thing, though, right? Maybe Isaac wasn’t as bad as everyone was making him out to be. He had lost his temper. He wouldn’t do it again. I wasn’t in any real danger. That stuff only happened in the movies.

  With the frozen goods put away, I grabbed my phone and called Hannah.

  “He said he’s here. What does that mean?” I asked, doing my best to keep the panic out of my voice.

  “Who’s there?” she asked.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t thinking straight. I quickly filled her in on the flowers and what the note had said.

  “Dammit!” she shouted. “What the hell is with that guy?”

  “I don’t know. I think I made things worse,” I groaned.

  “You need to call the police and report the delivery. They need to know the guy is escalating. He found you. That couldn’t have been easy. How did he find you?” she mused aloud.

  “I don’t know. And technically, the police do know. The neighbor happened to see me throwing the flowers in the trash.”

  “Save the card. We may need it to prove he’s stalking and harassing you. There are laws against stalking. If we can’t get him for the harassment, we should be able to get him on the stalking at the very least,” she reasoned.

  “I don’t want to get it out of the trash.”

  “Do it anyway. Was it his handwriting?” she asked.

  I gulped down the lump in my throat. “Yes.”

  “Shit,” she hissed. “How in the hell did he find you?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe he has a tracker on my phone!” Suddenly I felt as if the walls had eyes and I was being watched at every turn. “I need one of those bug-sweeper things. What if he put cameras in the house while I was gone?” I said, my mind spinning out of control.

  “Relax. You weren’t gone all that long. The doors were locked, right?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Check your windows. I’m going to talk to your parents about having a security system installed.”

  I knew she was thinking out loud and didn’t mean to say what she was thinking.

  “Don’t do that. I don’t need them worrying,” I warned her.

  “Scarlett, they need to know. This isn’t okay. A security system is cheap. Hell, even I could afford it. That’s it. I’ve made up my mind. You’re getting one with one of those doorbell camera things. We are going to nail this guy’s balls to the wall!”

  I laughed. “That’s an image I won’t be getting out of my mind anytime soon.”

  “Good. We’ll get pictures and proof he’s harassing you. The police can’t deny that. I have to go. I’ll check in with you tonight. Keep your doors locked, even while you’re home,” she instructed.

  “I will. Don’t tell my parents—please, Hannah. I’ll be okay. This is just his way of making up. He always gives me roses.”

  “You’re not making up this time, Scarlett. No way, no how. If you even think about trying to smooth things over with him, I will strangle you. Has he called you on your new number?”

  “No. I’ve only had it a couple hours, though.”

  She let out a long breath. “Check in tonight. I’ll see you later,” she said and hung up.

  I knew Hannah. She was probably already dialing a security company or my parents. When the girl got something in her head, there was no changing her mind. Her stubborn independence was something Isaac hated. It was why he hated when Hannah and I spent any time together. He always said she was filling my head with lies and trying to get me to be more like her.

  If only I was more like her. Then I wouldn’t have allowed him to do what he had done for so long.

  Chapter Six

  Cameron

  I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d had ever since I’d seen Scarlett crying yesterday. I knew domestic abuse situations could be tough. I was usually the guy that had to go out on the calls at two in the morning because some guy was in a rage because his wife or girlfriend had burned the meatloaf. I had seen firsthand how ugly the situations could get.

  For some reason, Scarlett didn’t fit my idea of what an abused woman looked like. Obviously, they came in all shapes and sizes and were from all economic backgrounds, but what man could ever hurt a woman like Scarlett? She was so small and fragile-looking. It was beyond my understanding how a man could treat her like shit.

  I was thinking about her when I should have been focused on mowing the lawn and doing my part to keep up with the neighborhood standards. It was my day off, and with Ella at school, I had no excuse not to get caught up on the chores that were being neglected.

  I went outside and pulled the lawnmower out of the garage. As I was checking the gas level, I heard a sound. It was my pretty little neighbor wearing a pair of short shorts that showed off a pair of shapely, tanned legs.

  Before I could stop myself or think twice about it, I stopped my work on the lawnmower and walked up to the shrubs that divided our properties.

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing her attention.

  She looked at me and smiled. “Hi.”

  Damn, she was gorgeous. Maybe it was the shorts, or maybe it was that it had been a while since I’d gotten laid, but she was a beautiful, sexy woman.

  “I’m sorry about being a shitty neighbor. Would you like to come over for pizza tonight?” I blurted out.

  I sounded like a lunatic. First, I was a dick to her about her moving truck, then I brushed off her claim of being harassed, and then, for my final act, I laughed at her getting flowers from the guy. I wasn’t really scoring a lot of points. I was hoping a few slices of pizza would smooth things over. I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, but I didn’t need to start fights with the neighbors—especially neighbors who looked like her.

  She hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “No problem. That’s cool. Your boyfriend would probably not appreciate me asking you over for pizza. My daughter will be home,” I added, feeling like an even bigger idiot.

  She smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I have a crazy ex. I would love to come over for pizza,” she said, quickly changing her mind.

  I had a feeling she felt safer knowing my daughter was going to be there. It wasn’t like I’d asked her over for a quickie.

  “Good. Let’s say six? Does that work for you?”

  She giggled. “I don’t exactly have a busy schedule at the moment. Six is fine. Can I bring anything?”

  “Nope. Just yourself.”

  I managed to curb my train of thought and avoided saying “bring your hot body.” I hoped to god she put on some pants before she came over. I was
struggling to keep my eyes off those perfect legs that ran into a tiny waist. From the waist up, there was nothing tiny about her.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you then. I have to run to the store. Are you sure there’s nothing I can bring?” she asked before getting into her car.

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  She waved and left, and I had to take several deep breaths to knock down the boner that was threatening to rise to the occasion. It was just pizza, nothing else.

  The day flew by, and before I knew it, the doorbell rang. I wasn’t sure if it was the pizza or Scarlett. Ella was buzzing about the idea of having company for dinner and jumped up and down while she waited for me to check the door. It was the pizza delivery man.

  I had barely closed the door when Scarlett rang the bell.

  “That’s her!” Ella cried out, excited to have company other than Noah or Grandma and Grandpa.

  I opened the door. “Come in. Forgive Ella. She’s a little excited to have a guest over. We don’t entertain often, as you can probably guess,” I said with a friendly smile.

  It felt a little strange to smile, but once I got the hang of it, it came easily.

  “Hi, Ella,” Scarlett said with a warm smile. “Thank you for letting me eat dinner with you and your dad tonight. I’m not a very good cook,” she said, chuckling as she did.

  Ella giggled. “Neither is my dad. We eat a lot of pizza.”

  “Hey, now. I try. I can make a mean box of mac and cheese,” I said, defending myself.

  Scarlett laughed. “Then you’re a step ahead of me. I can make scrambled eggs and toast.”

  Ella smiled. “I can make that.”

  “I bet you can, and I bet it tastes really good.”

  Ella beamed. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  The tone in the room changed in an instant. Scarlett looked up at me, and I wasn’t sure if I was blushing or if I had paled.

  “Maybe we’ll have eggs and toast for dinner one of these nights,” I said to Ella. Then to Scarlett, I said, “This way.” I led them into the kitchen and dining area.