Best Laid Plans

by Farlow, LK

  Alden

  Ever since leaving their house on Tuesday night, I’ve been anxious to see my girl again. Especially now that I’m one-hundred-percent certain she’s mine—well, 99.9998%.

  So anxious, in fact, I arrived to the playground ten minutes early. Do you know the kind of looks you get being a single, childless dude loitering near the swings? Let me tell you…they’re not good.

  The thought of fleeing to my car is tempting, but I don’t. Honestly, some petty part of me is excited to see the looks on these people’s face when my daughter shows up. My daughter. Damn, that feels…good. Strange still, but so good.

  Things with Natalie and I are running smoother every day. And by smoother, I mean I’ve quit acting like a split-personality asshole. I still have a smidge of resentment I’m harboring, but, it’s more like a tiny, dying ember than the raging inferno it was.

  So, yeah, progress.

  I’m fiddling around on my phone when the sound of familiar, excited laughter floats my way. I look up just in time to see my Tatum barreling toward me. “Alden!” she screams, and I wrap her in a hug, breathing in her sweet, still baby-ish scent.

  “Hey, pretty girl. How have you been?”

  “I’s good.” She does a twirl, causing the little cape attached to her shirt to flare out. “I’s a super-he-whoa!”

  Natalie claims the seat next to me, smiling at Tatum’s pure, unfiltered cuteness.

  “A superhero, huh? What’s your code name?”

  She looks at me like I’m crazy.

  “You know, Peter Parker called himself Spiderman. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Who’s Tatum…Reynolds?” Calling her by that last name burns in my gut. I wonder if Natalie would ever be opening to having it changed to Warner?

  “Uh. Hmm. I’s Super Pwincess Sparkle!”

  Natalie leans into my shoulder, stifling her laugh. The intimacy of our position sends a million little sparks racing through my veins. The urge to casually sling my arm around her is so strong. I combat it by directing all of my attention to my little girl.

  “I think that’s perfect.” Natalie moves back to her side of the bench, and I mourn the loss.

  She smiles. “Yay! I gonna go pway? ‘Kay, Mama?”

  “Sure. Stay in the little kid area.” Tatum runs away, cape flapping in the wind, and Natalie turns to me. “Thanks again for meeting us here.”

  Pulling out my phone, I snap a few pictures of Tatum as she darts off. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

  I swipe up my text thread with my parents—yes, we have a group text—and attach the pictures of Tatum. They aren’t the first ones I’ve sent, and even though they haven’t met her yet, I know Mom and Dad will both gush like the proud grandparents they are. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they print them out and hang them on the fridge.

  She lets out a sigh far too weary for someone her age. “Yeah, Alden, I really do. You’ve been so great and far more forgiving than I deserve. So, like I said, thank you for your willingness to compromise.”

  I offer her a boyish grin. “That’s part of co-parenting, right?”

  She laughs and we fall into a companionable silence while we watch Tatum flit around the playground.

  Tatum plays and plays, like she has all the energy in the world. But, I guess at three, she does. She’s a red-cheeked, sweaty mess when she runs back to our bench. “Mama, I wanna do the big swide! I wanna show Alden how brave I am!”

  I glance toward Natalie, and she gives me a subtle nod. “The big slide, huh?”

  Tatum’s head moves up and down so rapidly she resembles a bobblehead.

  “How about I help you up the ladder and Alden can catch you at the bottom?”

  “Yes!” Tatum cries before running to the slide. I swear, this kid only has one speed—and it’s fast.

  Natalie climbs up the ladder with Tatum and helps her get situated properly before sending her down the chute to me. The sound of my girl squealing in delight and screaming, “Again!” is the best sound I’ve ever heard.

  On her second go, I tell her to wait a minute before sliding and snap a few more pics of her. She looks so carefree and innocent, and I want to remember this moment always.

  We’re on our fourth slide trip when an elderly woman lays her hand on Natalie’s arm. Without meaning to, I overhear her say, “Your family’s beautiful, dear. Especially that husband of yours.”

  Natalie’s cheeks go so crimson it’s almost comical. I wait for her to rebut the woman, but she merely smiles and thanks her. My initial reaction is to correct her…to tell her we’re not married or a family. But my second and far stronger reaction is one that truly throws me for a loop—longing.

  What the hell…

  * * *

  About thirty minutes later, the three of us walk to the parking lot. Tatum whines in her mom’s arms. “I not wanna go home!”

  “Then I’ve got good news,” Natalie soothes, ruffling her hair. “Alden is gonna take you to lunch.”

  “For reals? Just da two of us?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

  “Yes! Dis is da best day ever!”

  Tatum’s excitement over spending time with me warms my heart. Natalie passes Tatum to me. “Let me grab Tatum’s car seat and we—”

  “I bought one!” I interrupt her, sheepishly nodding toward my car. “You can check it out first if you want. I, uh, researched the best ones and took it down to the fire department to have them check the install.”

  Natalie’s eyes go glassy, and I worry I’ve done something to upset her. But then she wraps her arms around my middle, hugging me to her. “You are such a good father. Tatum’s a lucky girl.” Her words are a whisper meant only for me, but they resonate like a cymbal clanging in my ear.

  We walk the few steps to my car and Nat helps show me how to properly secure the five-point harness. “I packed a little bag for y’all.”

  I take it from her and place it on the floorboard at Tatum’s feet. She leans in to kiss her—our—daughter and like the pervert I am, I use the opportunity to once again check out her fine ass. High, firm, and juicy…a work of art. I’m so lost in imagining all the things I could do to that ass that I fail to realize that she’s speaking to me, not to mention she’s no longer bent over.

  “Alden…hello! Earth to Alden!”

  I snap my eyes up to hers, willing myself to look innocent. After all, there’s no need to complicate things between us further.

  “Yeah?”

  “I was saying she’s not allergic to anything, but can sometimes be picky. Well, not normal kid picky. Maybe…persnickety is a better word. Oh, and she’ll try and weasel you into dessert no matter where you eat.”

  A strand of hair blows across her face, and I fight the urge to brush it back. “Sounds great. We won’t be late.”

  Nat smiles and lays her hand on my shoulder. “You’re fine. I trust you.”

  For some reason, her words warm me down to my very soul.

  In the car, I ask Tatum what she wants to eat, and she immediately exclaims, “Burgers and fwys and ketchup and milkshakes!”

  “I think I can handle that, pretty girl.”

  I drive to my favorite burger joint, Homegrown. It’s a longstanding local joint, owned by the Bell family, that’s been around since my parents were kids. Though their menu has evolved with time, and I’m more than ready for one of their gourmet burgers. They’re a farming family and pride themselves on using local ingredients and meat from animals that were both humanely raised and slaughtered. Basically, they’re my kind of people.

  As we pull into their small lot, I ask Tatum if she’s ever been here before. She shakes her head. “Well then, you’re in for a treat.”

  Getting her unbuckled takes me a hot minute—you have to really squeeze to get that buckle apart. I try not to let my frustration show, but Tatum catches it…and finds it hilarious. “Ta’mon, Alden! Use your mustles!”

  I grin at my girl, my annoyance vanishing. “
I am using my muscles!” I get the chest clip opened and go to unhook the buckles, which is just as hard. Finally, I am victorious, and we walk into Homegrown hand in hand.

  The interior captivates Tatum. I get it though. The red brick floors have a yellow path painted on them leading back to the kitchen—Homegrown’s very own yellow brick road. The walls are a mixture of aged wood and corrugated tin, and the tables and chairs don’t match. “Dis place is cwazy!”

  “Crazy good,” I assure her, leading her back to an open table. I help her up into her seat and then claim the one across from her. “Your mama’s never brought you here?”

  She shrugs. “Nope.”

  I snag a menu from the little holder on the table and begin perusing it. Tatum sees me reading it, and grabs one for herself, pretending to read along.

  “Whatcha gonna get?” she asks.

  “I am gonna get a Rob’s classic—a grass-fed patty, local cheese, bacon, sautéed mushrooms, and garlic aioli on a French roll.”

  She tilts her head and looks at me a little funny. “I only know what some of dose things are. But I can tries it?”

  I beam at her adventurous spirit. “Yeah, pretty girl, you can try it. What do you want on your burger?”

  “I likes the cheese with the holes in it and crunchy bacon and ketchup and a egg.”

  “That sounds really good.”

  “It is. I thought it looked yuck but Mama made me tries it, and it wasn’t yuck! It was yum! I love it. With tots.”

  “Tater tot likes tots, huh?” She giggles, and I wish like hell I could bottle the sound and carry it with me.

  Our server approaches us wearing an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry to have kept y’all waiting. We’re short today.”

  I wave a hand in the air. “Not an issue.”

  “Thank you. What can I get y’all today?”

  I place our order, along with two waters, and our server heads off to put them in. She returns almost immediately with our drinks. After spending most of the morning outside, the cool beverage is more refreshing than usual.

  That is, until Tatum busts out with, “Are you Mama’s boyfriend?” Except she draws out the word boy.

  I suck my sip down the wrong pipe, choking. I pound my chest a few times, trying to regain my composure. “Do you even know what that word means?”

  She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Duh. I have two hubbands, remember?”

  More coughing. “Ah. Yes. How could I forget?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Well?”

  “I…uh. I’m…we’re not. No.” A toddler has me utterly tongue-tied. “Your mom and I are just friends.”

  She pouts. “Oh. Why? You not like her?”

  Jesus. This kid. “I like your mama just fine, pretty girl. Where’s all of this coming from?”

  She sucks in a shuddering breath. “I see udder kids with mamas and daddies. And I want a daddy, and if you—”

  Our server chooses that exact moment to bring our food—thank fuck—because I was two seconds away from breaking down and telling her the truth. This sweet girl sure knows how to bring me to my knees.

  The food is enough of a distraction that she lets our earlier conversation drop. And while it may be out of mind for her, it’s all I can think about. One thing’s for sure, Natalie and I need to have a long talk.

  “You still wanna try mine?” I ask, grabbing a napkin and wiping the ketchup from her face. “I saved you a bite.”

  “Mmm. Okay, I try.”

  I fork up the bite and extend it toward her. She gives it a little sniff before touching the tip of her tongue to it. After a few more licks, she finally snags it off of the fork. She spits the mushroom into her palm and happily swallows the rest—not bad for a three-year-old.

  Our server returns and clears our plates, and I order us a chocolate shake split into two glasses. “Alden, why you call my mama Small Fwy?”

  “Well, when I met your mama she was tiny little thing. Shorter than all the other girls her age. It just slipped out one day, and it stuck. Why does she call you Tater Tot?”

  “Her says it’s a special name from my daddy.” I swallow roughly. Because, Jesus…I may not have given her the nickname, but I may as well have. It’s a play on what I call her mother and couldn’t be more perfect.

  When I speak again, my voice comes out scratchy. “Speaking of special…” I reach into my pocket and retrieve another small, organza bag. My girl already knows what it is and wiggles around in her seat making grabby hands.

  I pass her the bag and she uses her little fingers to pry it open, spilling the charm onto the table. This time it’s a whisk, with little stones embedded in the handle of the whisk. “Oooh. I love it! Thank you so much!” She thrusts her arm my way, presenting me with the bracelet. “Hooked it?”

  I oblige and we both admire how pretty it looks next to her crown. After we finish our shake, I pay the bill and we head back to my car. I buckle her in, all the while wondering how Natalie makes it look so effortless.

  “You ready to go home?”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess? Don’t you miss your mama?”

  “I do. But when you go, I’ll miss you.” And with those seven words, my heart cracks wide open.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Tatum.”

  “Pwomise?” she asks, her voice small.

  “Promise.”

  I take the long way, driving the backroads, simply to prolong our time together. Still, all too soon, I’m pulling into Natalie’s apartment complex.

  I put my car in park and kill the engine. I exit and come around to get Tatum, only to find her snoozing far too peacefully for me to wake her up. With great care, I unbuckle her, finding it a little easier this time around. I grab her bag and pick her up, cradling her to my chest. Walking far slower than what’s probably necessary, I head for their unit.

  I lift my fist to knock, but Nat opens the door before I get the chance. She reaches for her, and I transfer our sleeping beauty from my arms to hers. “Let’s talk,” I mouth the words, and she nods, leaving the door open for me.

  She returns from laying Tatum down and drops down onto the far end of the couch. I follow suit, claiming the opposite end.

  “What’s up? Did y’all have fun?”

  “Yeah, Nat. We really did. She’s such an amazing kid.”

  “She is, huh? Every day she does something that blows my mind. She’s so smart, Alden.”

  “She’s the best of both of us,” I say to her, meaning it.

  Natalie smiles so brightly, which makes the next words a little harder to say. “She asked me if I was your boyfriend today. Wanna know why?”

  Natalie’s smile wilts away. “Wh-why?”

  “Said she wanted me to be your boyfriend because she sees other kids with dads. That shit’s not cool. We need to tell her.”

  “We do. You’re right. And we will. I swear it.”

  I try to be cool, but my impatience rings through. “When, Natalie? When?”

  30

  Natalie

  Alden’s question plays on a loop in my mind. I know he’s right and that she needs to know. I also know the longer I put it off, the more his resentment will grow. So, guess it’s time to buck up.

  “We can tell her next time we’re all together. Does that sound good?”

  His jaw drops, and he blinks as if stunned by my response. “R-really?”

  “Yeah, Alden. Really. You’re her father—and a damn good one. She deserves to know.”

  For the first time since all of this started—well, other than our brief kiss in his office when he read the paternity test results—Alden initiates physical contact between us, scooting down to my end of the couch and bear-hugging me. “Thank you so much.” His breath is hot on my neck, and chill bumps cover my body.

  I start to squirm out of his hold, but I’m rendered motionless at the feel of his stubble against my skin. His lips quickly follow as he softly kisses my neck. His touch is almost wo
rshipful, so soft but strong, all at once.

  I’m almost too scared to move as he drags his lips higher, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath my ear. I can’t help but groan at the heady mix of pleasure with a touch of pain. Alden growls at the sound, and before I know it, he has me laid back on the couch and he’s nestled between my legs, his lips sliding against mine as his tongue begs for entry.

  My body decides before my brain to simply roll with it, and I open to him as I run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends as he sucks on my lower lip. We kiss and carry on like two horny teenagers until my hips shift restlessly against his. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched me this way…I honestly think I could come just from this.

  Which explains my pathetic, kicked-puppy-sounding whimper when he pulls away. “Jesus, Nat.”

  I stare at him dazedly, my brain far too foggy to come up with a reply.

  Naturally, he finds this to be hilarious. “Cat got your tongue?”

  I can feel the blush staining my cheeks. “Something like that.”

  Teasing me, he rolls his hips, and I let out the most embarrassing sound. I want to smack the smirk off of his face as he moves completely off of me and to a sitting position.

  An awkward silence falls over the room. Suddenly, I’m unsure of how to act, much less what to say. I settle with an eloquent, “So…”

  Which Alden echoes back. “So…”

  “Jesus, this is awkward.” I mutter the words to myself, but of course he hears me.

  “It doesn’t have to be, Small Fry.”

  “But…it is. You k-kissed me.”

  Alden nods. “I did. And I liked it. It felt…natural. Right.”

  I look down at my lap, feeling all kinds of different ways. When I don’t reply, he reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Hey, I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just—” I break off, trying to find the right words. “Complicated. It’s complicated.” Really, that’s the best word, because how else do I explain that my feelings for him never faded, and that he’s always been my gold standard, and that no other guy has ever measured up? Not to mention, I don’t want things between us to get messy and have it affect Tatum. So, yeah, complicated.