Real Deal

by Piper Rayne

  “Miss Cat?”

  “Yeah?” I hear the enthusiasm in Cat's voice waning.

  “Can I call you Cat?”

  “You can call me anything you want, Lily.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Yeah,” Cat says and now there's a quiver in her voice.

  “That's good?” Lily asks.

  “That's perfect. Good night, Lily.”

  There’s some rustling of bed sheets and I picture Cat bending over to kiss Lily on the forehead. She walks out of the room a minute later and swipes a tear from her cheek.

  I take her hand and pull her into my bedroom.

  “So, here are the rules. No flowers and no pink.”

  “Are you dictating how to decorate your bedroom?” Cat falls onto the bed and I join her, placing my arm around her waist.

  “Our bedroom, baby, our bedroom.”

  It’s funny how one tiny word can mean so much.

  It isn’t until later after we’ve made love and I’m running the entire day through my mind, that I clue in to the words Dane used in the cabin when he was joking about expecting Marcus to be naked.

  I bolt up in bed with the sheet pressed against my chest. “Oh, my God!” I gasp.

  This has disaster written all over it.

  Epilogue

  Marcus

  Two years later…

  “What’s taking Mom so long?” Lily asks, sitting at the breakfast bar, sliding her eggs around her plate.

  It’s the first day of camp. Now that Cat and I are married, she no longer qualifies for Camp Tall Pines, but Vic opened another camp close to it that any kid can attend.

  “She's in her studio, but she'll be out in a second.”

  After Cat moved in, I converted my office into a studio and built it out. The only remnant of my original office is the leather sofa she kept for the memories. It still gets a workout every now and then.

  “I can't be late, Dad.”

  I hate this whole Mom and Dad thing and it wasn't until she stopped calling me Daddy that I missed hearing the word.

  “You won't be late.”

  The doorbell rings and Lily jumps off the stool to answer it. Anything to dodge the breakfast on her plate.

  Ava is outside the door with a box of her cupcakes. I open the door and she raises her hand up for Lily to high five.

  “What's up, girl? You ready for camp?”

  Lily follows Ava into the house.

  “Why are you bringing us cupcakes?” I ask.

  Ava places the box on the counter and turns her sassy self my way. “I'm bringing Lily cupcakes.”

  She bends down and smiles at Lily, whose hand reaches toward the pink box immediately.

  “No, no. Eat your eggs.” I point to the plate, grabbing her brush off the counter.

  “Has anyone told you that you have horrible timing?” I cock my eyebrow at Ava and she laughs.

  “There's always time for sweets. They warm the heart.” Ava grabs a cup from the cupboard and fills it with coffee.

  “Is that your slogan?” I chuckle.

  She sits down on the breakfast stool next to Lily.

  “You might not want to admit it but those cupcakes are about to make your day.” She relaxes back. “Where's the lady of the house anyway?”

  “Inspiration hit at three this morning.” I shrug my shoulders. “Lily, turn around so I can do your hair.”

  Lily grabs the brush from my hands. “I got it. Jeez, Dad, I'm seven now.”

  I hold my hands up in the air, sharing a look with Ava, who's amused.

  “Yeah, Marcus, she's seven, and that's nine years from driving a car and only eleven until she leaves us for college.”

  Cat appears in the kitchen and my heart skips a beat, which is normal whenever she's near me.

  “Mom, I can't be late for camp.” Lily directs all her attention on Cat as she joins us in the kitchen.

  Cat's eyes flicker to the plate of eggs and she shakes her head. “Morning, Ava, you're the grand prize winner to witness the crazy Kent morning. First we argue about eating eggs and then we proceed to bicker until everyone goes their separate ways.”

  The wide smile on Cat's lips tells me she's being sarcastic. I wasn't ready for the drama to start so soon with Lily, but Cat constantly reminds me she's just growing older and with age comes independence. And dramatics apparently.

  I hand my wife a cup of coffee and she places it on the counter, her eyes on the box.

  “Two forkfuls and you get a cupcake before camp.” She leans over the counter and whispers to Lily.

  Lily hurriedly forks two small amounts into her mouth and chews, swallowing it with her orange juice.

  “See what happens here, Ava?” I motion between the two women in my life.

  She laughs. “I'm looking. Cat's like a kid herself.” She sets down the cup on the counter. “I gotta get going, you know I have my own morning routine to get back to.”

  Cat rounds the counter and hugs her, whispering to her and they share a laugh.

  “Enjoy those cupcakes,” she says to Lily, kissing the top of her head.

  “Bye, Aunt Ava.” Lily sits antsy in her chair, staring at the box of cupcakes like Justin Bieber is about to pop out.

  “Bye. And there's a special one in there for you, Marcus.” She points to the box.

  “I already had my kale smoothie and toast, but thanks.”

  Ava's laugh disappears as the front door clicks closed behind her.

  “Can I open the box now?” Lily climbs onto her knees on the stool, leaning forward on the breakfast bar.

  Cat comes back over to my side, her head falling on my chest. The smell of her coconut shampoo rousing the need I had for her when I woke up this morning, but I never bother her when she's working. Well, strike that, we've had our fair share of fun with clay, and paint, but I try to wait to be invited instead of interrupting.

  “Go ahead.” She nods at the box.

  Lily is already familiar with Ava's packaging so she's able to manipulate the tape and insert in zero seconds flat. Then she stands there, frozen, looking down at the cupcakes. Her eyes peer over the open box, right to Cat.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetie.”

  She jumps off the stool and runs into the two of us, squeezing Cat around the waist. Cat's hand goes to her chaotic blonde hair, the sun glinting off the diamond ring that adorns Cat's left hand.

  My family, nothing better.

  Lily stares up to Cat with tears in her eyes and I clue in that they're sharing some type of moment I'm not a part of.

  “All this over cupcakes?” I ask.

  Lily wipes the tears and walks back to her stool, climbing up and turning the box around so I can see it.

  Six cupcakes, three pink, three blue with a sign on the inside of the box congratulating Lily on being a big sister.

  My eyes shift to Cat leaning against the counter. I place my hand on her flat stomach.

  “Really?” I ask, my heart soaring to heights I didn't even know were possible.

  We’d discussed a baby after we got married, but I told Cat she needed to get her art career off the ground. That I wouldn't allow her to sacrifice the career she loves.

  Her two hands land on my cheeks and she stares into my eyes. “Don't be mad. I went off the pill last month.”

  “How could I be mad?” I rub her belly and her own hand covers mine, both of us staring down at our joined hands.

  “And I really wanted to surprise you.”

  “I'm surprised.” My mind boggles with everything that I need to do to the house to have it ready for a baby.

  “I love you,” she says, placing a sweet kiss on my lips.

  I swivel her around so her back is to the counter and I press a little firmer on her lips. “I think Jack can handle the shop today. How about we come back here after camp drop off?”

  My eyes glance to the clock, seeing we're going to be late if we don't leave soon. “We have to go.” I swipe my keys fro
m the counter.

  “Oh, Lily, let's get the frosting off your face. Does pink mean you want a baby sister?” Cat asks, wetting a paper towel and cleaning her face off.

  Cat grabs the brush, trying to get it through Lily’s blonde tangles, all while we shuffle to the door. A ponytail holder in her mouth, she finger combs Lily's hair into a neat ponytail. I guess seven doesn’t count when it’s your mom helping you out with your hair. Noted.

  “Hey, Mom and Dad?” Lily asks as I hold her backpack out for her to put her arms through.

  “Yeah?” we answer in unison.

  “Where do babies come from?”

  We both freeze and stare at one another over her head while she struggles to put on her backpack.

  I point to Cat who holds up her hands in the air shaking her head frantically.

  “Your turn,” I say, holding the door open for the two women in my life, well, maybe three.

  I smile to myself as they both climb in the truck. Life has never been sweeter.

  Sometimes it pays to take chances, even if you’re a control freak like me—some people are worth the risk.

  BEFORE you go …

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  Want to see what woman can finally make Dane grow up? Stay tuned - Dirty Talker releases 6.12.17

  Flip the page for an excerpt of The Boxer, featuring Tahlia and Lucas story from our Modern Love Series.

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  The Boxer Excerpt

  Modern Love

  The line is moving, and it’s like Main Street in a small town with how many people are approaching others and asking them how they’re doing. I’m so enamored by the friendliness of this group, a group I’d usually have no contact with, that I don’t notice when a guy approaches me.

  “Hey, want in?” he asks.

  I glance behind me. He’s a smaller guy, with dark slicked-back hair and an unkempt beard.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, pushing the strands of my blonde hair behind my ear.

  “The fight. The final one starts in about…” He glances at his Rolex watch. The guy must do well unless it’s a fake, but from the quick look I got, it’s not. I should know the difference, Chase owned two. “A half hour.” I notice a wad of cash in his pocket.

  “I’m sorry. This is my first time here. I don’t know the fighters.”

  His eyes zoom over my right shoulder and then back my way, a smile now teasing at his lips. “Want to meet one?” he asks, and instinctively I look to my right and left, waiting to see some guy with red or blue boxer shorts on, but there’s no one.

  “You going to give me a backstage pass or something?” I ask.

  He laughs, revealing a mouth full of capped teeth. “No, babe, I’m not. Listen, these are the rules. It’s Brock Hayes and Lucas Cummings tonight. This fight’s been expected for some time, and you have a fifty-fifty shot with either one.”

  Is this guy serious? He expects me just to bet on two guys when I have no idea who they are?

  The line moves forward, but every step I take, this guy matches.

  “What’s your name?” I ask the little gnat who doesn’t seem to want to leave me alone.

  “Shawn,” he answers.

  “Okay, Shawn. Here’s twenty.” I pull the bill from my wallet, discreetly covering my other cash.

  “Who you betting on?” he asks, grabbing a raffle ticket and poising his pen, waiting for my reply.

  “Um…” In my head I’m doing eenie, meenie, miney, mo.

  “I’d go for Brock,” a guy who’s suddenly appeared next to me chimes in.

  He has the most gorgeous green eyes. Seriously, like two emeralds lit up with a spotlight. My gaze moves down to his chiseled, scruffy jaw and pouty lips. My stomach flutters, my heartbeat stammers, and heat builds between my thighs.

  Who is this man?

  “Why?” I ask, swallowing down the saliva pooling in my mouth.

  “Lucas is a newbie, and he’s the underdog.” He widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s wearing black track pants and a t-shirt that’s faded as though it’s seen the inside of a washing machine a million times.

  “But Shawn says it’s a pretty even fight,” I argue and the guy looks at Shawn and then back to me.

  “He’s trying to take your money. Believe me, bet on Brock.” He nods and a girl comes over, handing him a water bottle.

  “Thanks.” She tiptoes up and kisses his cheek. “Tonight?” she asks and I understand her presumption.

  Excuse me while I swallow back the bile rising up my throat. Of course, the gorgeous guy is a man whore.

  “Thanks for the water,” he says and ignores her question. She scurries away and his eyes focus back on me.

  Wanting to get these drinks and get back to my table, I dig into my wallet and grab a hundred-dollar bill. “Fine. One hundred on Lucas.” I hand my money to Shawn, and he scribbles something on my ticket, handing it over to me.

  “If Lucas should win”—he laughs like it’s impossible—“come see me over there after it’s over for your payout.” He points to a long table just past the makeshift bar we’re standing in front of, and I nod.

  “Sure thing.”

  The line moves forward, as does Shawn to the people behind me, but the hot guy is still right next to me.

  “You like the underdogs?” he asks, taking a sip of his water. I fixate on the way he’s licking his lips. Damn, I bet he’s one of those awesome kissers. Not that I’ve ever had a kiss that made my knees weak, but I bet this guy can do it.

  “I do.” The line disperses and I step up to the bar, ordering a pitcher of beer for the table and a glass of Moscato for myself.

  “Sorry. Beer, water, and wine coolers only,” the bartender says. I stare blankly at him.

  “Vodka?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Did I say vodka?” he snarls.

  “Well, no.”

  “Come on,” the guy behind me whines, and the hot guy shoots him a look that has him taking a step back.

  “Give her my stuff, Ted,” Muscles says.

  The bartender nods and moves into a cooler, grabbing a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. He pours it into a Solo cup and slides it my way.

  “I don’t suppose you have a lime?” I ask and the gruff silver-haired bartender stares at me with no expression on his face. He screws the top on the vodka and places it back in the cooler.

  Hot guy tugs my elbow and we slide to the opposite edge of the bar.

  “This isn’t exactly your type of place, huh?” he asks, taking another sip of his water.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, a little offended.

  A cocky grin reveals a mouth of perfectly white teeth. “Because you look like you’re about one second from crying your eyes out.”

  “No.” I inhale a breath. Who is this guy?

  I’m here.

  I’m dressed.

  I’m drinking.

  I just bet on a fight.

  I’m enjoying myself just fine.

  “Maybe I’ve never been here before, but I’m not upset, nor do I want to cry.” I grab the pitcher of beer and my straight vodka.

  He cups my elbow to stop me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you. I just wondered why you’re here?”

  My shoulders fall. “My friends.” I point to the table where Whit’s tongue is halfway down Cole’s throat and two girls are flirting away with the brothers. Lennon is nowhere to be found.

  “You’re friends with the Mendles?”

  I shrug.

  “The Mendle brothers. They’re the ones who own the gym and host the boxing nights.”

  “Really?” I ask, looking back over to see their jeans-and-t-shirt-clad bodies. They own a boxing ring? “They’re friends with the guy who’s being resuscitated by my friend’s tongue.”

  He lau
ghs, and our eyes lock for a beat longer than they should. “Do you give CPR like your friend over there?” He steps closer, and I don’t draw back. Maybe this guy isn’t as bad as I thought.

  “Not on the first meeting, no.”

  “First date?” he asks, the mint from his gum igniting my awareness.

  “I’m not looking for a date right now,” I say.

  “You’re not? How about a new friend?” He picks up my vodka glass and brings it to his lips. He peers at me over the rim of the glass.

  “I have a lot of friends.”

  “No one can ever have enough friends. Plus, I come with great benefits.” He tips the cup, and I lose sight of his eyes briefly until he swallows and places the cup down on the bar. I glance to the side to see he’s at least left me some of my drink.

  “What kind of benefits?” I ask, leaning into him more and wanting him to tell me everything he’d do to me.

  “Intrigued?” he asks.

  As embarrassed, as I am to admit it, I nod. That arrogant smirk widens. Maybe a rebound screw is what I need, and if I’m going to, I want this guy. This guy can give me what I need—a crazy sex fest where I can’t walk for days.

  He glances behind us into the crowd and back my way, grabbing his bottle of water from the edge.

  “How about you meet me after the fight, and I’ll show you the benefits I’ll bring to our budding friendship?”

  The heat that was building ignites into a wildfire between my legs. I nod, unable to verbally convey my agreement.

  “There’s a spot on the north side of the tent. Meet me there about a half hour after.”

  I nod, and he leans in close, his breath tickling my skin.

  “I’ll need your verbal commitment before I bestow you with my benefits.”

  Then he backs away, winks one of his emerald eyes and turns on his heel.

  Holy shit, did I just agree to a one-night stand?

  What happens after the fight?? Read The Boxer!

  The Boxer

  Cockamamie Unicorn Ramblings