Lust (Vegas Nights #2)

by Emma Hart

  He was an asshole.

  Sure, he’d never been anything but perfectly nice to me—if you ignored the handcuffing thing—but still. That made him an asshole and I was going to stick by it.

  Only because if I thought about him like that, I didn’t think so much about the fact I kinda wanted to kiss him.

  Just a little bit.

  My phone buzzed loudly on the side, prompting me to reach for it. My stomach sank at the sight of my babysitter’s name flashing at me on the screen. She only ever called me when she had to cancel, and three hours before she was due to be here…

  No, no, no, please no.

  “Hello?” I answered tentatively.

  “Oh, Perrie!” Alison’s voice was thick and scratchy. “I’m so sorry. I’m sick. I can’t watch Lola tonight.”

  Damn it. “Oh. Are you all right?”

  Obviously not. She was sick.

  “I think it’s some kind of stomach virus. I waited to see if it would pass, but…” She coughed, and I winced at the half-retch that came down the line.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry—I have time to get someone else to have Lola. You take yourself to bed and feel better soon, okay?”

  “Okay, thank—” She cut off the line, and no matter how sick I felt, I was glad I didn’t have to hear her being sick.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. Now what the hell was I gonna do? I’d flat out lied to Alison—I didn’t have anyone else I could call, and it was too late to try to get a brand new sitter.

  I had Adrian’s number from when he called me this morning. Did this class as an emergency? If I backed out tonight, would that go against me?

  I had to try.

  I pulled up my call log, tapped his number, and started a new text message.

  Me: Are you there? I have a problem.

  The sound of Lola breaking into song from upstairs accompanied the tapping of my nails against the kitchen counter. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait but my clock said was only a minute, his response popped up on-screen.

  Adrian: What?

  Me: My sitter just bailed on me. She’s sick. It’s too late to get another.

  Minutes passed, but he didn’t reply. My stomach tied up into knots and mild panic accompanied that sick feeling. Why wasn’t he replying? The silence was a killer.

  Was he angry?

  Did he pity me?

  No. He was probably annoyed. Night two of this agreement and I was already flaking on him. He had to understand, though, right? He was a single parent. He had his son. This was sometimes how it worked. Surely he’d missed work because he had nobody to look after his child.

  On second thought, probably not. He had his parents around, after all.

  I leaned over on my counter and covered my face with my hands. The hard surface was cold against my elbows, but the real shock came from the loud buzz of my phone.

  I peered over. He was calling me. Nothing inside me wanted to answer it, but I knew I didn’t have a choice.

  I swiped the screen and held it to my ear. “Hello?”

  “I just called my babysitter,” he said gruffly. “If you bring your daughter to my house, she’ll have both her and Zac.”

  Zac?

  Right.

  His son.

  “Why?” was all I replied. “Why would you call her and ask that?”

  “Because I have to work, and in order to do my job, I need you.”

  I swallowed. “How old is your son?”

  “He’s eight and will probably spend the entire evening with his face in front of Minecraft or something else like that. He won’t bother her at all.” He paused, and when I didn’t speak, he continued. “Look—I get it, it’s not ideal, but it makes some sense. I have a spare room for her, and you just take her home when you’re done.”

  I opened and closed my mouth for a moment. I didn’t know how to feel about Lola being at his house and potentially making friends with his son, especially since they were so close in age, but at the same time, I fully recognized that I didn’t have a choice.

  “Fine,” I said softly. “Thank you. That helps, I guess.”

  He laughed quietly, and the line crackled with the deepness of his chuckles. “All right. See you at six-thirty?”

  I swallowed my sigh. “All right. Six-thirty.”

  “I’ll text you my address.”

  ***

  “But, Mommy, why?” Lola moaned, clutching the foot of her beloved ragdoll who was currently decorated with pasta sauce. “I don’t wanna go there. Where’s Alison?”

  “She’s sick. I have to go to work, so one of my work friends is letting you stay at his house for a few hours with his son, okay?”

  She screwed her face up, wrinkling her nose until she felt she’d accurately displayed her level of disgust over this new development. “But I don’t like boys. They stink.”

  Well, yeah.

  “Sorry, Lo. Adrian said he’ll probably play games and leave you alone, ‘kay?” I zipped up her rucksack. “You’ll have your own room.”

  “What’s his name? The boy?”

  “Zac.” I scooped up my purse and my own bag with an alternate outfit in. “It’s only for a few hours. As soon as I’m finished, I’ll pick you up and bring you home.”

  Lola looked down at her upside-down ragdoll and pursed her lips. “What do you think, Dolly?” She was still for a moment, and then she nodded. “I agree. I think we should avoid him, too.” More silence before she shook her head. “No, maybe he won’t be as smelly as the boys in school. Especially Ryan. He really smells.”

  “Okay,” I interrupted the one-sided conversation. “Can you continue this little chat in the car? We have to go.”

  “I suppose. But I’m not very happy about this, Mommy. I hope you know that. You know I don’t like boys.”

  I rolled my eyes, but what I really wanted to say was, “I know, Lo. I’m not happy about this either, but life sucks, kid.” Somehow, I managed to keep myself in check while I locked the front door and she climbed into her booster on the backseat.

  After making sure she was safely belted in, I got in the car myself, putting our bags on the front passenger seat.

  I’d never wanted to do anything less.

  Actually, that was a big, fat lie. There were a ton of things I’d wanted to do less than this, but right now, in this moment, it had to be the worst possible idea.

  Goddamn Alison for getting sick. I didn’t have time for her to be sick. I didn’t want her to be sick either, but still. Time, want, whatever.

  “Mommy?” Lola asked a few minutes into our drive.

  “Mm?” I glanced at the rearview mirror to see her. Dolly was sitting on her lap, her knitted, blond hair tied together by a red ribbon that matched her dress.

  “Is Zac nice?”

  “I’ve never met him,” I said honestly, focusing on the road. “But, I’m sure he’s very friendly.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know. He is a boy. I don’t trust them very much.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, Anthony Parsons took Millie Bond’s favorite pens during class this week. He hid them, then promised he’d give them back, but he threw them all in the trash!”

  “That’s why you don’t trust boys?”

  “He took her pens, Mommy. He’s so mean! She cried and everything, so Mrs. Fonten made him say sorry.”

  “Did he say sorry?”

  “Yes, but he had his fingers crossed behind his back. He didn’t mean it at all,” she said earnestly, and when I glanced in the mirror again, I saw her wide eyes and righteous expression.

  “Did you bring your pens in your bag?”

  “No.”

  “Then, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, pumpkin. Your pens are perfectly safe.” I turned off the main road.

  “What about Dolly?”

  “I don’t think Zac will care about Dolly.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Another glance at her and she was looking out
of the window.

  “We’ll see,” she said, hugging Dolly a little tighter.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my smile and turned down the road where Adrian had said he lived. I slowed down so I could see the numbers on the houses, and just like he’d said in his text, there was a black BMW in the driveway, right next to a bright yellow, flowering bush.

  Lola muttered to Dolly about the untrustworthiness of boys as I parked, making sure not to block in the driveway. I turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, blowing out a long breath. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with this, but that was no more than my own personal feelings toward this situation and the man I was about to spend yet another evening with.

  I knew three things: my daughter would be safe, I would see her again within six hours, and this night was one night closer to my freedom from this agreement.

  Optimism at its finest.

  “Come on, Lo. Let’s go.” I got out of the car, leaving the bags inside so I could safely get her out, too.

  With her safe on the sidewalk, I grabbed our bags and headed toward the house where the door was already opening.

  A little boy the spitting image of Adrian, from the blue-green eyes to the dark hair and bright half-smile stuck his face between the door and the frame and looked at us.

  “Are you Perrie and her daughter?”

  Ah. Of course. I’d never actually said Lola’s name.

  “That’s us,” I answered with a smile that said I was more confident than I felt. “You’re Zac, right?”

  Zac nodded his head and looked at Lola. “What’s your name?”

  Lola leaned into my leg and gripped the back of my shirt. “Lola,” she said shyly.

  He looked at her. Not in a cruel or dismissive way, but in a way that said he was an eight-year-old kid sizing up another child and deciding whether or not this shy little girl invading his home was worthy of his attention or not.

  I knew, behind the shyness, Lola was probably doing the same thing.

  “You wanna come in?” Zac asked her.

  Her. Not me.

  Her.

  I fought a smile.

  Lola hesitated, but she nodded when I gently knocked my hip into her.

  Zac opened the door wide for us both to come in, and we did.

  “Zac, what are you—” Adrian appeared right behind him, wearing dark jeans and a white shirt. He rubbed a towel over his head until he noticed us and froze. “Zac. What did I tell you about opening the door?”

  “Relax, Dad. I looked through the window.”

  “The last time you looked through the window before opening the door was Halloween and you got egged because you made a bad choice.”

  Lola grinned.

  “Daaaaad!” Zac let go of the door like it was on fire.

  Adrian smirked and dropped the towel from his head. “You know the deal. You give attitude in front of company, and I get to embarrass you.”

  Huh. That seemed like a strangely effective plan…

  He turned to me and smiled before crouching down in front of Lola. “Well, hey there, pretty girl. Who did you bring with you?” He touched a finger to Dolly’s nose.

  I expected Lola to shrink away, because she was naturally shy with people she didn’t know, and nobody was allowed to touch Dolly.

  Instead, she tilted her head to the side, summed Adrian up, and pointed to Dolly. “This is Dolly.” Then, she pointed to herself. “And I’m Lola.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Lola and Dolly. I’m Adrian.” He held out his hand, palm up, and waited for her to react to his offer.

  Lola narrowed her eyes, but after a moment of staring at him, put her hand on top of his.

  He wrapped his fingers slowly and gently around hers, and then, he kissed her tiny fingers.

  And my heart skipped right out of my chest.

  It bounced off the walls and slammed back into me, freaking choking me. This six-foot-plus guy with muscles on every inch of his body had my baby girl’s hand in his and kissed it like she was a damn princess, and the lump in my throat was thicker than it had ever been.

  “Hi. I’m Zac.” Zac held his hand out, the way his dad just had to Lola.

  “Hi, Zac. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Perrie.” He already knew that, but hey. I lightly set my hand on top of his, and his little mouth touched my knuckles in a kiss.

  Adrian dipped his head to hide his smile.

  All right. Now? Now I couldn’t breathe through the thickness in my throat.

  Lola giggled. “Mommy, he likes you.”

  Zac bristled. “I’m just being a gentleman.”

  Adrian stood, running his tongue over his upper lip, a smile still fixed on his face.

  I watched as his tongue swept over his mouth.

  I wanted it to be my tongue.

  Shit.

  “You don’t need to be so mad,” Lola said, hugging Dolly tight to her chest. “I was only telling my mom that you like her. God, Mommy.” She looked at me. “Boys are so sensitive.”

  I touched my fingers to my mouth.

  “I’m not sensitive!” Zac yelled. “I don’t even know why you’re here. Can’t your dad look after you?”

  “Zachary,” Adrian warned in a low, hard voice.

  “He’s dead. Why can’t your mommy look after you?” Lola shot back with all the logic—and venom—of an angry seven-year-old.

  “Lola Louise!” I dumped the bags and bent down, grabbing her wrist.

  “She’s dead, too!” Zac replied, the shouting gone.

  I watched as their little eyes met.

  In the silent moment that hung between the four of us, I learned far more about Adrian and Zac Potter than I’d ever needed, or wanted, to know.

  As Adrian’s eyes burned into the side of my head, I knew he felt the same as I did.

  “Okay,” he said softly, crouching in front of Zac. “Do you need five minutes?”

  Zac’s nostrils flared, but he shook his head, then turned to Lola. “Do you like Minecraft?”

  “I don’t know what it is,” she replied softly.

  “You wanna come with me? I’ll show you. Oh, wait.” He looked to Adrian. “Is that okay, Dad? Can she come in my room?”

  Lola wrinkled up her face. “Does it smell like boys?”

  Zac stared at her.

  Adrian smacked his lips together, stood, and looked at me. “If it doesn’t smell like boys, is that all right with you, Mom?”

  The boyish glint in his eye had me biting the inside of my lower lip. “I mean, that’s a hard bargain. As long as Her Highness deems it not to smell like boys, it’s fine by me.”

  “Ugh.” Lola sighed. “Mommy.”

  “Hey, you started it.”

  Zac grabbed hold of Lola’s hand, their earlier, tense exchange forgotten, and pulled her toward the bottom of the stairs. “Come on, I have another Xbox controller. We can start a new game. You can build cool stuff like castles and houses and dig pits to throw criminals in.”

  “Can we build unicorns?” Lola asked, dutifully allowing herself to be dragged up the stairs, staring after him with wide eyes.

  “It’s more fun to throw the criminals in pits they can’t climb out of.”

  Adrian lifted a finger, opening his mouth.

  Lola’s laugh of, “Cool!” stopped whatever he was about to say.

  Instead, he dropped his hand, closed his mouth, and turned to me. “He watches too much TV.”

  I put a hand on my hip and raised my eyebrows. “You play that with him, don’t you?”

  Adrian grimaced, his lips twitching at their corners despite his best efforts. “I might have done. Once or twice.”

  “Or three or four or five…”

  “All right, all right. It’s fun bonding time. He likes it.” He grabbed the bags. “Let me take these to the spare room.”

  “Oh, wait. One is mine. I need to get changed.” I separated Lola’s bag from mine and my purse. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  “S
ure. Second door on the left upstairs. Come on.” He led me up them and pointed to the right door. “My sitter will be here in ten minutes. We have to head to the station for a quick briefing, then we’ll be ready head out. Sound good?”

  No. Not at all.

  Netflix and ice-cream sounded good. This, however, did not.

  “Sounds good.” I smiled, turned, and locked myself in the bathroom.

  I leaned back against the door and blew out a heavy breath. Quiet giggles came from a room to my left, and that was the reminder I needed of why I was doing this.

  This wasn’t happening the way I’d planned for it to, but the most annoying part was the chink in my dislike of Adrian. He couldn’t be a completely bad guy given that I was at his house and my daughter would be for several hours.

  Not that it made any of this much easier, but still.

  Lola’s laughter reached me again.

  I glanced up. The sink was directly opposite the door, and the mirror that hung above it was large and clear, and I met the eyes of my reflection.

  Time to get on with it.

  Chapter Eight

  Perrie

  “Stop looking at me,” I hissed over my shoulder. We were just leaving the police station after the briefing, and already, I was severely regretting my dress choice.

  I’d worn a coat over the dress when I’d left Adrian’s bathroom, so the first time he’d seen it was, well, now.

  A plunging neckline probably wasn’t my best idea, given the situation.

  “I’m just getting into character,” he said, unlocking the car and reaching for the door handle. He swung open my door, eyes hot on me as I sat on the front seat.

  “I’m here to work, not here to be undressed with your eyes.” I grabbed the inside handle and yanked the door shut, much to his amusement.

  The sound of his laughter carried as he walked around the car and got in the other side. “Sorry, sorry.”

  “Oh, please. That’s the most pathetic apology I’ve ever heard.”

  “Ouch. If kids are more believable non-apologizers than I am…”

  “Oh, they’re better. That was abysmal. Not to mention I’m a woman so naturally assume that your apology is bullshit anyway.” I raised my eyebrow. He didn’t try to deny it. “I thought as much.”

  “In my defense,” he paused as the engine hummed to life, “I didn’t know you were wearing that dress. I didn’t know you owned a dress like that.”