6+ Us Makes Eight: A Teacher and Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three)

by Nicole Elliot

  “What does it say?” Zoey asked.

  “Yeah. What does it say?” Catherine asked.

  I felt my heart stop in my chest as I read the words over and over.

  The children woke up talking about you. Seems they enjoyed you as much as I did. Can I take you to dinner?

  And underneath that message was a number.

  Ryan’s number.

  “Uh oh,” Catherine said.

  I shot her a look as I sat Zoey down on her feet.

  “What does it say, Miss Gentry?” she asked.

  “Zoey, did you make this with your uncle?” I asked.

  “Yeah. We made it this morning. I wanted to make a ‘thank you’ card, but I needed help spelling. And gluing. And cutting.”

  “Well you did a great job,” I said. “I’m going to hang it on my fridge when I get home.”

  “What did Uncle Ryan say?” she asked.

  I looked over warily at Catherine and she shrugged her shoulders. I was hoping she would bail me out of this situation. Give me something to tell this little girl that would satiate her curiosity. I made it a point to not lie to my kids. In my mind, that was the worst thing someone could do to a blossoming child. Sometimes I tried to dampen the harshness of the truth, but I never tried to conceal it.

  “Your Uncle Ryan told me you guys were asking a lot about me and he wants to know if I’ll eat with him again,” I said.

  “Will you!?” Zoey asked.

  Her beaming smile made me sigh as I cupped her cheek in the palm of my hand.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. “But I’m not hungry right now.”

  “Will you eat with him when you are hungry?” she asked.

  I could hear Catherine giggling beside me and I wanted to stomp down on her toe.

  “If I can get all of my work done and I’m still hungry, then I might,” I said.

  “Okay. But if you do, can we come with you?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to ask your Uncle that,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll ask him when I get home.”

  I bit back a groan as Zoey skipped off to go play.

  “Well, that was fun,” Catherine said.

  “I hate you.”

  “That should be your slogan for the day,” she said.

  “What the heck am I supposed to do with this?” I asked.

  I waved the card around in the air before Catherine plucked it from my fingers. She scanned the picture on the outside before flipping it over and I could tell she was trying to bury the ironic smile trying to cross her face.

  “As odd as this is going to sound, I think you should do it.”

  “Really? After the entire story I just told you, you think I should call up one of the richest men in San Francisco and have dinner with him?” I asked.

  “Remember what I told you? Ryan doesn’t do things twice? He’s notorious for it. But he’s reaching out to you again. And he doesn’t do that.”

  I looked down at the letter before I snatched it away from her.

  “I’m just saying it’s worth a shot,” Catherine said.

  “And I think you’ve had a blood vessel hemorrhage in that brain of yours.”

  “Just give it some thought.”

  “Time to go inside, kids!”

  “Promise me you’ll think about it!” she exclaimed.

  “Come on, guys! Time for lunch!” I said.

  I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to consider it. Ryan Aaron was trouble with a capital ‘T’ and there was no reason for me to get tangled up with him. He was the epitome of everything I avoided, and for a very good reason.

  And I wasn’t going to start doubting my life decisions now.

  I wasn’t going to dinner with him.

  Ever.

  Seven

  Ryan

  “Seven… eight… nine… ten. All right. Set it down. Come on.”

  “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m the woman you’re currently screwing,” I said.

  “Trust me, I don’t talk to her like that,” Paul said with a grin.

  I chuckled and shook my head as I re-racked the weights. Paul had been a good friend of mind for years. Divorced. Father of one. Multi-billionaire who was spending his days living the high life after selling his lucrative technological startup. He made it big and sold it out, then decided to spend his days raising his daughter after her mother slipped into drug use to deal with her postpartum depression.

  He was a strong man, and I enjoy training in the gym with him.

  “Your turn,” I said breathlessly. “And don’t give me this shit about how your knee sucks.”

  “It does suck, but not enough to make me skip leg day,” Paul said. “Come on. Help me get this fucking thing on my shoulders.”

  “If you need help getting it on your shoulders, maybe we should’ve made today arm day,” I said with a grin.

  “I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

  “It’s why you keep me around.”

  I helped spot Paul until he got into his first set of squats. The man was a powerhouse in the damn gym. Stacked with muscles and taller than me by three or four inches. He was a colossal man, and I pitied the boy that attempted to date his daughter.

  “How’s Cassidy doing at school these days?” I asked.

  “Can you not try to talk to me while I’m grunting it out?” Paul asked.

  “Then get better at multitasking. I hear she’s going to have Hunter’s teacher next semester. What happened with her classroom this semester?”

  “There’s a bully.”

  “Cassidy’s being bullied. By who?” I asked.

  “Well, not anymore. And she’s not being bullied. Cassidy saw a kid being bullied.”

  Paul groaned as he racked the weights before he shook out his legs.

  “I’m not following,” I said.

  “Cassidy defended one of her friends from a bully.”

  “So they’re transferring her out?” I asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “They gave her a choice. Have the bully transferred out or have her transferred out. She said, and I quote, ‘I’ll go if my friend goes, that way the bully can see everyday what he did’.”

  “Why does it not shock me that you’re raising a ruthless daughter?”

  “You know what does shock me?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The fact that you don’t have kids yet.”

  I rolled my eyes as I walked with Paul into the middle of the gym.

  “Jump squats?” I asked.

  “Yep. Let’s get to hurtin’,” he said. “But seriously. You’re amazing with kids. And Cassidy loves you. Not to mention your niece and nephews. What gives?”

  “One! Two! Three! Four!”

  “You counting loudly isn’t going to stop me from asking,” he said.

  “Well it should,” I said breathlessly. “I don’t have kids because I don’t want them.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. You came into this gym all smiles at seven in the morning. I know that’s because of those kids.”

  “So they make me smile? Doesn’t mean I want any of my own. Maybe I enjoy spoiling kids and then giving them back,” I said.

  “Ryan, come on. We both know what this is about.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be my physical trainer?” I asked. “I don’t think ‘mental health guide’ fits under the requirements for your job.”

  “And the fact that you’re not denying it means you know I’m right.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued with the round of jump squats. I knew exactly what Paul was getting at. Mostly because we’d already has this conversation. I didn’t want a family because I saw what happened to children when families fell apart. Mine did, and it left me with a lot of anger I’d had to sort through during my twenties. Broken families make for jaded homes, and everlasting love was nothing but a myth. Things always got in the way and became more important. People didn’t want love, the
y wanted all of the fun things that came with it. Someone to sleep next to. Someone to take vacations with. Someone to fuck regularly.

  I could get all that shit without marrying or bringing innocent children into the picture to be ruined.

  “And thirty,” Paul said, panting.

  “Holy shit. I’m gonna lay down for a second. Possibly die. Hold on,” I said.

  “Always the drama king,” he said with a grin.

  I groaned as I laid down on the nasty floor of the gym. My legs were burning, and I felt like I was going to puke. Leg days with Paul were murder, but they were also why women adored my body in suits. All the hard work I put into my body trailed all the way up my abdomen and having a cut body in a slim-fitting suit made panties drop before I could reach a damn doorway.

  That was how I enjoyed my life. All of the fun and none of the consequences.

  “Let me ask you this,” Paul said as he offered me his hand. “What if your sister can’t take the kids back.”

  “That shit isn’t happening,” I said. “Now help me up.”

  I grunted as I got onto my wobbling legs.

  “It’s plausible. This is the fourth time she’s been admitted, and the first time CPS has had to step in to take care of things. They might grant you custody of those kids if they find Valentina to be an incompetent mother.”

  “She’s not incompetent. She has a substance abuse problem. That doesn’t make her a bad mother.”

  “Did it make your mother a bad mother?” Paul asked.

  “We’re not here talking about my mother, asshole. We’re here talking about my sister. The woman who took a tanking pharmaceutical company and single-handedly revived it into not only the biggest medicinal conglomerate in the nation, but the largest donator of medical services internationally.”

  “Who also likes to pop pills and top her drinks off with Benadryl.”

  “Nyquil, but I get what you’re saying.”

  “Have you thought about that?” Paul asked. “Because it’s plausible. You’re the godfather of those kids. You would get full custody of them. Then what?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “Ryan-”

  “Look, Paul. I appreciate your concern. I know you think I’d be some awesome family man who would porn star it up for my wife and raise these perfect children who would be wonderful contributors to society. What you fail to take into account is the fact that I don’t want any of that.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I see the way you look at Cassidy and I when you come over,” he said. “There’s admiration, sure. But there’s also a look of wanting in your life. Yeah, your life’s plastered all over the news. And sure, you go out partying and take shots out of women’s bosoms. But you go home lonely.”

  “I always have someone on my arm,” I said.

  “I didn’t say you went home alone. I said you went home lonely.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek as I grabbed my sweat towel. I popped open my water bottle and squeezed some into my mouth. This wasn’t the way I wanted to start out my day, but I knew Paul had a point.

  If CPS and the courts intervened any further and granted me custody of those kids, I needed a game plan. Because the truth was, Valentina hadn’t gotten any better the first few times this had happened. So what made this time different?

  “If anything, think of it this way. Growing up in your family showed you what you can’t do as a parent,” Paul said.

  “Or it showed me the fact that I shouldn't be one,” I said.

  “However, you want to interpret that is fine. But I’ve seen you with Cassidy and I’ve seen you with your own niece and nephews. You’d be a great dad.”

  “And you’d be a terrible psychiatrist,” I said with a grin. “Now, you ready to go get us some shakes or what? Because I need a damn shower.”

  “Fine, but no chocolate in yours today.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m your trainer and I said so,” Paul said with a wink.

  “You’re a dick.”

  “And you need to push yourself harder on leg day. Come on, wimp.”

  “Push myself harder? I almost puked.”

  “Well, you should’ve actually puked.”

  “I’m starting to think you’re a terrible trainer as well.”

  “You’re just now starting to realize that?” he asked.

  I grinned as I tossed him his towel and the two of us headed for the door. I had a long day ahead of me and I was ready to get it off on a decent foot. Paul and I headed back for the showers before cleaning ourselves up, then we grabbed a couple of protein shakes as we made our way out the front doors.

  “Do you think the courts would actually give me custody of those kids?” I asked.

  I turned and looked at Paul as he mulled the question over in his mind.

  “I think it’s a plausible enough scenario for you to have a game plan,” he said. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Then the two of us headed our separate ways.

  Fuck.

  I had a lot to think about.

  Eight

  Emma

  I sat on my couch as I stared at the card in my hand. Ryan’s number. Right there in front of my eyes. I wasn’t sure what to do. At recess with Catherine, I knew I’d never go on a date with Ryan. A man like him with the proclivities in life he had. He didn’t want a woman, he wanted a toy. Someone to fill his time until his tastes changed again.

  But that kiss…

  I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’d never been kissed like that before. And what was worse was that I’d never wanted another man like that before. It was like my disgust for his lifestyle went out the window the moment I knew what his lips tasted like. What his body felt like against mine. What his tongue felt like caressing mine.

  And before I knew it, I was dialing his number and holding the phone up to my ear.

  “This is Ryan.”

  I felt my voice catch in my throat as his ripped me from my trance.

  Shit. I’d actually called him.

  “Hello?” he asked.

  “Can you hear me?”

  I cringed at the question as a chuckle fell through the phone.

  “Miss Emma, what a pleasant surprise.”

  “Is it really? You gave me your number,” I said.

  “With your apparently disgust for me, I wasn’t sure if you would call.”

  “If you knew I was disgusted with you, then why did you give me your number?”

  “Because I enjoy a good challenge.”

  I grimaced at his words, but the tone of his voice made me shiver.

  “Have you given any thought to my proposition?” he asked.

  “You mean dinner?”

  “Yes. Would you let me take you out to dinner?” he asked.

  “How are the kids doing?”

  “They’re fine. They won’t be at dinner with us, though.”

  “That’s a shame. Why not?” I asked.

  “Are you really asking that question? Or are you trying to deflect from the fact that you’re about to accept a date from a man you’re morally opposed to?”

  “I haven’t accepted anything.”

  “Then why did you call?”

  Why had I called? I had his number, so maybe this was to get an update on the children. Maybe this was to check up on Benjamin and Hunter and Zoey. I was wondering how they were doing. How they were getting along with their uncle. And I had his number. That meant I had a right to check in. Especially after what I’d gone through with CPS and going over to Ryan’s apartment.

  This was all about the kids.

  Right?

  “How about this?” Ryan asked. “We can talk about how the kids are doing over dinner.”

  “Why not over the phone?” I asked.

  “Because I’m a busy man and I’m still working.”

  “Then wh
o’s with the kids?”

  “I am. I’m on my laptop at home while they’re watching a movie?”

  “You mean they’re right there?” I asked.

  “What? Embarrassed to be seen talking on the phone with me? Man, you really must not enjoy me at all.”

  I sighed as I leaned back heavily into the couch. I put my face in my hand as his proposition turned over in my head. It made sense that he wouldn't want to talk about the children while they were right there. And what would dinner hurt? I wouldn’t dress up solely to make a point, and I would keep the conversation centered around them the entire time. No personal questions, no fooling around with feet underneath a table, and no dressing up.

  That would send a clear signal, and Ryan would probably be so embarrassed to be seen with the likes of me that he wouldn't ask again.

  Good.

  Because I didn’t want him to.

  “All right,” I said. “When do you want to do dinner?”

  “Have you eaten already tonight?” Ryan asked.

  “No. It was a long day at-... wait. Have you not eaten? Have the kids not eaten?”

  “Relax. The kids have eaten. I’ll call my friend Paul to come sit with them and they can have a sleepover with his daughter. They all get along fine. We’ll go get a late bite to eat, hunker down and talk a bit. Maybe press the replay button a little bit…”

  I shook my head as a sigh fell from my lips. I had to admit, kissing Ryan again would’ve been nice. But this was about the children. I wanted to know how they were doing and if this was the only way to get that information, then I’d suffer through it.

  “Okay,” I said. “Tonight’s fine.”

  “Great. I’ll call Paul and text you when I’m headed over. Send me your address.”

  “I can meet you there,” I said.

  “No, I’m picking you up. That’s what a gentleman does.”

  “Are you really trying to convince me that you’re a gentleman?”

  “Oh, can’t wait for the verbal jousting over dinner. Send me your address. I’ll see you in a few.”

  I groaned as I hung up the phone and sent him my address. I got up and went into my room to look over what I was wearing. A pair of pajama bottoms, a t-shirt with no bra, and a worn-out cardigan with holes in it.

  I briefly debated on making him take me out like this before I started to change.