by Nikki Chase
“Thank you,” Adam says graciously with a charming smile. For a moment, I forget all about what a horrible human being he is.
I can hear William giggling, but my eyes are firmly on Adam. Specifically, the strip of skin that shows up when he lifts up his hands a certain way. I can see a little trail of dark fuzz disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. I bite down on my bottom lip as my mind automatically imagines the way he looks underneath the denim.
I’d have to be blind to not find Adam attractive. Even when I was blindfolded, I found him attractive.
But Adam’s off-limits. I can’t date William’s dad; that would be too confusing for William.
And what kind of a relationship would it be anyway? There’s no chance of anything healthy when we started out as a whore and a john.
Even if I wasn’t even aware the sex was transactional when it happened, he was. That means he’s not good dad material for William. He can’t be.
That said, he’s pretty good at pretending to be a good dad. He’s actually managed to calm William down enough to put on the shoes.
Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about Adam being the father of my son. I can’t stop him from coming here to see William either—not unless I want to risk a lawsuit.
But I can, at least, limit the damage by not letting him deeper into our home than necessary.
That's right. I’m not socializing with him. I’m just trying to appease him enough so he doesn't lawyer up and sue me.
William toddles around the bright-orange pumpkins, touching the hard outer shells and laughing hysterically.
I watch by the fence, allowing myself some distance from William and Adam.
William being two, I normally have to watch him like a hawk. He's nowhere near as bad as some of the other “terrible twos” I’ve met, but he acts like a drunk adult who just never sobers up for some reason.
I’ve probably said “no” more times in the past few months than I ever did my entire life. I’ve also combined the words with various other things I didn't think I’d ever have to utter.
Like, for example, “No, don't pick up a cigarette butt from the sidewalk and put it in your mouth.” After that one, I had to wash his hands in the sink while he wept and lamented like an over-dramatic mourner.
With Adam watching William closely, I don’t have to worry about him putting things in his mouth, at least. He’s all bundled up in a thick jacket and a scarf, so he should be comfortable. And even if he takes a tumble, the ground is soft enough to cushion his fall.
I take out my phone and open the Camera app. I try to fit the scene in front of me in my screen—orange pumpkins littering the brown soil, and William’s laughing face as he runs around the patch.
While most parents obsessively document their kids’ days in pictures, I normally have both my hands full when William’s awake, which means that he’s asleep in most photos I take of him. This opportunity doesn’t come often.
Adam approaches behind William, holding him by his little toddler arms before he falls on his butt. I didn’t mean to include Adam in the frame but he’s not leaving William’s side.
When William laughs, I snap the picture anyway. I stare at my phone screen as William squeals happily. Even though Adam’s in it, this is a pretty good photo.
It looks like fall, of course. With a pumpkin patch as the background, there’s no way to avoid that. Orange dominates the picture, except William’s and Adam’s green eyes steal the attention away from the stupid pumpkins.
It strikes me how much they resemble each other. If William were about twenty years older, they’d probably look like carbon copies of each other. Adam wouldn’t need to conduct a stealthy paternity test to know William’s his son.
The thought of Adam stealing William’s biological samples behind my back reminds me not to get carried away.
No matter how much I’m attracted to Adam, and no matter how good he seems to be with William, I can’t let my guard down. After all, the only reason I agreed to come out with him today was because he’d basically threatened me with legal action.
Transactional sex and blackmail. Hmm . . . Yeah, as much as naïve dreamers like Daisy want to believe this is the beginning of a fairy-tale ending, there’s no way this is going to work out.
Katie
After a few hours of running around the pumpkin patch, William falls asleep in the car. He’s a log by the time the car pulls up in front of the house.
Adam turns off the ignition and looks over his shoulder at the little guy asleep on the backseat. His green eyes light up like he’s in love. Street lights spill into the car, making the moment feel surreal with their yellow glow.
It feels like time has stopped. Except I can hear our breathing.
“Let me carry him inside,” Adam says finally, in a soft voice. “I don’t want to wake him up.”
I nod. It’s incredible. Only a few days ago, the thought of letting him into my house again seemed so crazy. But now, after just one day out, it feels so natural to have Adam remove the straps from William’s car seat and lift his son into his arms.
I walk ahead to unlock the door then show Adam to William’s room. He lays William down in his crib and even tucks him in. Despite myself, tears start to sting my eyes, and I have to look away to compose myself.
“Thank you, Katie. Today has been incredible,” Adam whispers with a big, satisfied smile as he gets up to his feet.
He looks so genuinely happy I can’t help but return his smile. “You’re welcome.”
Maybe, even if he’s a terrible human being, he can be a good dad to William, after all. I know some guys who are complete assholes, except to their own offspring. He may be one of those guys.
Adam faces William’s little crib and takes a deep breath as he watches William’s chest rising up and down.
“Wow,” he says as he slowly shakes his head, his voice cracking slightly. “I can’t believe that’s really my son.”
Not too long ago, I would’ve insisted he was mistaken.
But now, the way Adam’s been with William all day—patient, attentive, kind—I want him to be William’s dad. I mean, he is; that’s a fact. But I don’t hate the fact that he is anymore.
If Adam’s behavior today is indicative of how he’s always going to be with William, then I want him in my son’s life. I want someone to love William the way Adam seems to love William.
“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing,” I whisper.
The look on Adam’s face as he gazes at our son puts a lump in my throat. I’ve never been able to share these private, quiet, little moments with anyone before. I mean, Sawyer’s an awesome uncle, but it’s not the same.
Both Adam and I draw a deep breath at the same time, then we share a look. I can’t stop my lips from curling up. My chest feels full with something warm and comforting.
Adam gestures at the door. “Shall we? Before we wake him up.”
I turn off the light and shut the door.
As Adam and I walk down the hallway, he says, “I’m really happy today, but I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot.”
He touches me on the shoulder and looks at me with puppy-dog eyes. I stop to listen.
“This may be asking for a lot, after what you’ve already allowed me to experience today. But if you don’t mind, would you tell me everything about William?”
“Everything?” I ask, a smile on my lips. There’s nothing I love more than talking about my son. “That might take a while.”
“I have time,” Adam says quickly.
Maybe this is a bad idea, but I can’t say no when all he wants is to hear some stories about his own son. After today, I can’t deny him that.
I can tell he actually cares about William, and that can only be a good thing.
Adam listens intently to every word I say, as if afraid he’s going to miss something crucial, even though I’m just telling him about William’s favorite colors.
William loved yellow for months, and
now suddenly, he hates yellow with a passion and loves blue with about the same amount of passion. He won’t even let me put on a yellow shirt on him anymore.
“Sounds like the two of you have been through a lot together.” Adam’s sitting on the couch beside me, leaning one arm against the back as he faces me.
This is the first time I get a chance to take a good, close look at him. And my eyes keep getting drawn to the tiny, inconspicuous details of him.
His leather jacket is resting on the arm of the couch. The top couple of buttons of his Henley are open, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. The veins in his forearms pop against his skin, and he has a long, strong neck.
“William’s completely changed my life,” I say. “Now, I don’t even remember what it used to be like before him.”
“You must be the strongest, bravest person I know.” Adam stares at me with so much honesty I can’t even laugh at his grandiose statement.
“You must not know a lot of people,” I say gently, thanking him with a smile for the compliment.
Adam chuckles. “That’s actually true,” he says. “That’s what my mom says all the time.”
“You’re close with your mom?” Somehow, I find that surprising.
In my mind, over the past three years, I’ve built up this image of Adam as some filthy monster. But today, he’s challenging all my opinions about him.
“Yeah. She says I work too much.” Adam takes a deep breath as he continues to gaze at me. “Was it a big surprise, when you found out you were pregnant?”
I fall silent. I didn’t expect him to ask a question about me. So far, I’ve just been telling him about William.
“It was,” I say finally.
“Yeah. It must’ve been. I remember distinctly that we used protection.”
“That’s not all.” I used to hate having to tell people about this because I didn’t want anyone to pity me. But since I had William, I’ve loved telling people about what a miracle he is. “I thought I couldn’t have children.”
Adam’s eyes widen. Instead of pity, his face softens with sympathy and understanding. “That’s why you decided to keep him.”
“That was a big part of it, yeah,” I admit. “Maybe it was strange and superstitious, but I felt like, if I didn’t keep the baby and raise him, the universe would never again give me another chance . . . you know?” I laugh nervously. “I didn’t think I could live with that kind of guilt and regret.”
Adam nods. “I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry.”
“No, we never . . . It wasn’t like that between us, was it? I mean, it wasn’t like you promised me anything . . . I just didn’t think—”
“Katie, I was besotted with you that night. You have no idea the lengths I’ve gone to, just to find you.” Adam levels his gaze at me. “If you’d only asked, I would’ve done anything for you.”
I give Adam a flat stare.
Really? We’ve been getting along so well all day, and now he pulls out this nonsense?
“Come on,” I say. “Now you’re just mocking me. We both know it was nothing like that. It was just dirty fucking with some girl from the sex club.”
“What? It was nothing like that.” Adam frowns. “Dirty? Sure. Fucking? Yeah, definitely. Sex club? Ditto. But you weren’t just ‘some girl.’”
“You can tell me the truth. I’m not going to cry about it. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”
“Why did I keep coming to the club, looking for you, then? I know you have no way of knowing if I really did that, but you are aware that I had Sawyer looking for you for two years, right?” he asks.
“Like you said, I have no way of knowing if you really went looking for me. And as for hiring Sawyer, I don’t really care. You probably have so much money it’s burning a hole in your pocket anyway.”
“Someone’s been Googling me.” Adam smirks.
“I didn’t have to. You got into The Succubus. Only rich, powerful people did.”
“Okay. Fair enough. But also, rich, powerful people don’t have time to waste on unimportant matters.”
“Maybe it was a hobby to you, like some kind of a fetish to buy women with your money,” I blurt out.
“Just because I paid your brother, you think I’m trying to buy you? Aren’t we getting a little too overexcited?” Adam asks. “I had no idea you were his sister, by the way. So it was literally impossible for me to use him to get to you.”
“I don’t have to go that far to reach that conclusion. The money you left me was proof enough,” I say.
“What money?”
“The bills you left on the nightstand in the private room that night?” I can’t believe he’s trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I mean, show a little respect for my intelligence.
“The money on the nightstand . . .?” Adam frowns, looking like he’s straining to remember.
Wow, he’s a pretty good actor.
“Oh,” he says, his face a mask of horror and comprehension. “That’s what you thought the money was for?”
Katie
“What do you mean?” I ask.
So, he’s realized pretending to forget about the whole thing didn’t work, and now he’s trying a different tack.
I’ve got to give the guy credit for trying.
“I mean, that money wasn’t . . . It wasn’t for the . . . sex, if that’s what you think. God.” Adam drops his head to his hands, looking like he’s ashamed. “I can’t believe you thought it was for that.”
“What was it for, then?” I ask flatly, expecting to hear some kind of a lame excuse from his mouth.
Well, at the very least, he knows he fucked up, and he’s admitting it now. This is progress, I suppose.
“I . . . Do you remember the bra you were wearing that night?” he asks.
“What?” I stare at him. I didn’t expect him to start this conversation by asking about underwear.
“Yeah. I . . . Uh, I think I was a little too rough when I was pulling it off you, and I made a hole in it. I just wanted to, I don’t know, cover the cost of replacing it for you.” Adam sighs. “Looking back now, I can see how it must’ve looked, from your perspective.”
I remain quiet while I consider Adam’s explanation. There was a small hole in that bra that I noticed, like, one whole week after The Succubus . . .
“Fuck,” Adam curses. “It didn’t occur to me that you might not realize what the money was for.” He lifts his face and gazes at me with frustrated desperation. “I was an idiot.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, my mind going wild as I try to remember the details of what happened that night.
I’d laugh at this crazy misunderstanding, except the getting-paid-for-sex thing really messed me up. That money made me feel dirty.
“Completely,” Adam says.
“You really thought a bra cost five hundred bucks to replace?”
“Your bra matched your panties, so I thought you were going to have to get new panties, too.”
“So,” I rephrase my question, “you thought a bra and a pair of panties cost five hundred bucks?”
“They don’t?” Adam asks with a sheepish smile.
“I guess some designer brands do sell them for that much. But no, generally, an underwear set doesn’t cost five hundred bucks.”
“Well, you looked like a million bucks in them, kitten,” Adam says.
I laugh at his attempt to be funny and smooth at the same time. I’m glad he’s taking this well.
Adam smiles as he gazes deep into my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you were going to see it that way. It was dumb. But I was nervous. It was the first time I ever went into a private room.”
“Really?” I ask incredulously.
“Really.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
Adam laughs and dimples appear on his cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.” He reaches out to touch my hand. “And again, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t re
member you being this nice that night,” I say.
“Well, that night was different. I saw you, and—” his eyes glint with desire as he speaks “—I had to have you. It was this . . . overwhelming need. And you were just such a perfect little submissive.”
I blush.
The way his fingers tighten around my hand, the way his voice gets just a little bit hoarse . . . I believe him.
I believe he really wanted me. He didn’t just pick any random girl in the club.
“What’s different about now?” I ask.
“Now, there’s a lot at stake. There’s my son—our son—to protect and look after. And also . . .” Adam smiles a little smile at me. “You seemed angry at me. Now I know why. But I didn’t want to make you completely hate me, so I had to play it safe.”
“It almost sounds like you actually sat down and came up with a battle strategy.”
Adam chuckles. “Strategy is the most important key to winning the battle. A good strategy can make up for almost any flaw.”
“So the masked man I met at The Succubus . . . That was just part of a strategy to you? The way you’ve been acting today, you don’t even seem like the same person as the man from the club that night.”
“Nah, that’s because you’re not like you were that night either,” Adam says.
“Are you calling me fat?” I ask with a pout, pretending like I’m angry.
“Never.” Adam laughs. “I’d never call the mother of my child ‘fat.’ That’s just wrong.”
I smile as his thumb caresses the back of my hand.
“What I’m saying is,” he continues, “what we shared that night . . . That was because I asked of you, and you gave me what I wanted. You trusted me to take control.”
My face heats up.
That night . . . That night I wanted him to take control. I wanted him to dominate me. I wanted him, period.
I didn’t think I’d feel that way about him again. But right now, I don’t know . . . It doesn’t seem impossible.
