The road trip, which should have taken five hours, took close to ten. Torrential rain, which fell the whole way, brought traffic to a crawl, and halfway into the trip, my truck broke down. Both of us starving and needing to pee desperately, we had to wait forty-five minutes for a tow truck to come by. And then we spent two long hours at a mechanic’s garage while the battery was replaced. That cost me a couple hundred bucks I couldn’t afford to spare.
It got worse. The hotel in Vegas, which looked so nice in photos online, was a dive. Off the beaten path, our room was grungy and smelled of cigarettes. It was supposed to be a non-smoking room, but I quickly came to the conclusion those were non-existent in this joint. The guests inhabiting the hotel looked as seedy as the hotel itself. Not a child in sight. I tried to book another hotel on The Strip, but they were either way out of my price range or all booked up on account of some hair stylist convention happening in town.
It rained for five straight days. We never got to sit at the pool, and running around Vegas in the pouring rain with a lot of the city under construction was both nerve wracking and frustrating. To make matters worse, most of the attractions were shut down for one reason or another. Poor Ty. Disappointment after disappointment. Whatever could go wrong, did go wrong.
The huge Ferris wheel across from the MGM Grand didn’t operate in the rain.
The roller coaster at Circus Circus wasn’t working. And Ty wasn’t tall enough to ride the bigger one at New York New York.
The animated movie at the M&M factory stopped in the middle, and the technicians couldn’t fix it.
The Treasure Island pirate show couldn’t go on because the winds were too high.
Taylor Swift, Tyson’s favorite recording artist, was in town, but the concert was sold out with last minute scalper tickets going for five hundred dollars apiece.
The one show we were going to see got canceled because the magician fell ill.
And the striped snow tigers at the Bellagio, where the legendary fountains were shut down because of the weather, made my baby girl burst into tears.
“Cupcake, what’s the matter?” I asked, lifting her into my arms.
“I’m so sad for the pretty tigers. They should be in the jungle with their mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters.”
Her words totally crushed me. My sensitive, creature-loving little girl.
“They like it here.” Please…who was I kidding?
She shook her head vehemently. “No, they don’t! They want to go home!”
And then she began to bawl. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks as her shoulders began to heave. My inner alarm siren sounded. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t like it here,” she spluttered. “I want to go home. I miss Drake.”
She was gutting me. Her sobs like knives to my heart, I floundered for words.
“Cupcake, we can go home right this very minute if you want.” I paused. “But we can’t see Drake anymore.”
“Why, Mommy, why?” she sobbed out, her endless tears drowning my soul.
“Drake and I aren’t friends anymore.” The words pained me. Killed me.
“But we had the bestest time with Drake.”
I thought about her words. We did have the bestest time with Drake. Every time with Drake was the bestest time. All the fun memories spun in my head like a slow, enchanted carousel.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I murmured, my voice thin and watery, before kissing the top of her head.
“Mommy, I don’t understand. Drake told me he really, really liked you. The way Prince Charming liked Cinderella.”
My breath hitched in my throat. “He did?”
Sniffling, she nodded, the tears still falling. “The night he put me to bed. Please, Mommy, why can’t he be your boyfriend?”
Tears burned the back of my eyes. It took all I had not to cry. I couldn’t let my little girl know that this was as painful for me as it was for her. I smoothed her silky hair and then brushed away her tears.
“Cupcake, it’s complicated. Sometimes two people can fall in love, but it’s not meant to be.”
“But it was meant to be, Mommy! It is! The fortune teller said so!”
Unable to console her or explain, I just let her cry in my arms.
A half-hour later, we were checked out of our raunchy hotel and driving back to LA. Already in her pajamas, Tyson quickly fell asleep in the backseat, snuggled against Froggie, who’d come along for the ride. Taylor Swift’s “Sad Beautiful Tragic” played on the radio, and while the rain finally stopped, I needed windshield wipers to wipe away the tears pouring from my eyes.
Encountering both rush hour traffic and a jam up from an accident plus stopping a couple of times at drive-thrus for much needed coffee, it took over eight long, exhausting hours to make it back to Los Angeles. It was close to midnight when I pulled up to my house. To my surprise, another car was in my driveway behind Lulu’s. I recognized it. A black Porsche that belonged to Brock. The living room lights were on.
Parking on the street, I quietly got out of the truck, unfastened a sound asleep Tyson from her car seat, and gathered her into my arms. She stirred a little, but didn’t awaken. At the front door, I fumbled with the keys, the double lock harder than usual on account of holding Tyson. The door opened wide before I could unbolt the second lock. Handsome Brock, wearing a pair of low-slung sweats and a body-hugging Mighty Dicks T-shirt, stood tall before me.
“Hi,” he said softly. “Can I help you?”
I twitched a small smile. “It would be great if you could take our suitcases out of the truck. I’m going to put Tyson to bed.”
“Sure,” he said as I headed to our bedroom.
Wiped out from the long ride, I tucked my sleeping beauty into her bed and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I love you from here to the moon and back,” I whispered before tiptoeing out of the room. Silently, I prayed that she’d have sweet dreams and that Drake wouldn’t be in them. Or in mine. When I returned to the living room, Brock had already brought in the two bags along with Froggie. The bags were parked on the hardwood floor among the many scattered sealed boxes. While I was away, Lulu had obviously packed up most of the house in preparation for our move. God bless her. A pang of guilt shot through me. Though she’d insisted on our getaway, I felt bad that I hadn’t helped much.
“We didn’t think you’d be back until tomorrow morning,” said Brock, setting Froggie on a chair. “If you want, I’ll leave.”
“It’s okay, Brock. Stay.” Weariness laced my voice.
“Thanks. I helped Lulu pack up earlier and asked if I could stay since I have an early morning client meeting downtown. It’s a hell of a lot easier getting down there from here than from Westwood.”
“No problem,” I replied, not asking him where he was going to sleep.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said as if reading my mind.
“You don’t have to. It’s uncomfortable.”
He quirked a smile. “Thanks. Where’d you go?”
Obviously, my sister had kept her word and not told him.
“Vegas.”
“Ah, Sin City.”
“More like Suck City.”
He laughed lightly. “It depends upon who you go with…or without.”
Drake. I read more into his words into his words than I should. My heart pinched.
“You look tired, Dee.”
“I am. It was long trip back.” I briefly told him about the traffic, but didn’t share the real reason behind my bloodshot eyes.
“Can I get you a glass of wine? Lulu opened a bottle of white and it’s sitting in the fridge.”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“Relax, I’ll be right back.”
As he strode to the kitchen, I plopped down on the couch and blew out a deep breath. The tension that had built up inside me on the way home seeped out of my body. Not until I sunk into the cushions did I realize how really tired I was. I felt like one of Tyson’s ragdolls.
As I tugged off my sneakers from my cramped feet, Brock returned with a glass of wine in one hand for me, a bottle of Coors in the other for him. After handing me the wine, he settled in a chair and angled it so he was facing me. He twisted off the top of the beer bottle and took a long swig of the frothy beverage. A satisfied “aah” escaped his throat after he swallowed. I followed suit and took a sip of the wine. The chilled liquid coursed down my throat and I savored how good it was. Certainly not the cheap Two Buck Chuck Lulu and I usually bought. Likely something big bucks Brock had brought over. I immediately took another sip and felt myself unwind.
Brock took another chug of his beer and then looked me in the eye. “Drake came by.”
My heart stuttered; my voice stammered. “H-he did?”
“Yeah. This morning.”
My chest tightened with emotion. “What did he want?”
“What do you think? He wasn’t paying me a visit. He wanted to see you.”
Silence.
“Your sister told him you never want to see him again.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. “That’s a fact,” I snapped, hoping my bravado would serve as dam and hold them back. “I hope you didn’t tell him where we’re moving to.”
“Lulu swore me to secrecy. I’m a lawyer. I respect secrets.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice softening to almost a whisper. I took another sip of the wine to moisten my dry mouth and to soothe my pain.
“Drake looked like shit.”
My brows lifted and my heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean? Is he okay?” Fuck me for caring.
“Not really. He’s been sick as a dog. Bronchitis.”
A pathetic “oh” fell from my lips. It actually pained me to say the one little word when what I wanted was to call him. Find out how he was. See what he needed. Ask what I could do to make him feel better. Desperation coiled in the pit of my stomach. The need to be with him pounded through my veins.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I muttered.
“I’ll let him know.” Brock’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
I chewed my lip and then drank more of my wine.
Setting his beer down on the coffee table, Brock kept his gaze on me. His eyes grew intense, his jaw tightened. I’d never seen him like this. His lawyer face?
He heaved a breath and folded his arms across his tight abs.
“Listen, Dee. I’m going to level with you. Drake is like a brother to me. I’ve known him my whole life. I know him inside and out. And let me tell you, I’ve never seen him like this. He’s a fucking basket case.”
“Bronchitis can wipe you out,” I said defensively and unconvincingly.
“Screw the bronchitis. He’ll get over his fucking cough. But he’s not going to get over you so quickly. Or Tyson.”
My heart hammered in my chest. I was at a loss for words. His eyes not wavering from me, Brock went on.
“Trust me, Drake’s had a lot of women, but I’ve never seen him act this way over anybody. He’s crazy about you and Tyson. And I swear, the guy’s never wanted to settle down and have a family.”
“He’s a player,” I bit out, my defenses in high gear.
“Maybe he was once, but he’s changed. You and your little girl changed him. I’m going to tell you a secret. He’s asked me to help you find a way to get a divorce from your prick of a husband.”
“Why didn’t he tell me himself?” I blurted, not telling Mr. Secret Keeper that I already knew this from my sister. Anger joined my whirling dervish of emotions. “In case he changed his mind?”
“Jesus, Dee. You so fucking underestimate him. You may think he’s an asshole, but you know what, he’s a really good guy. Make that a great guy. The real deal. I swear he’d kill for you and your little girl.”
The intensity of his words got to me. The dam holding back my tears broke loose. They rushed out of my eyes like a raging river.
“But I’m so wrong for him. I’m an embarrassment to his family. I saw the way his father looked at me when Krizia told him about my past.” I brushed away the tears, but they kept spilling down my cheeks.
Brock’s expression softened. “Drake’s a big boy. His own person. He’s been rebellious his whole life. And sometimes he acts before he thinks…goes by his gut. He didn’t blurt out you two were engaged to please his father. He did for himself…because he really wants you in his life.” He took another chug of his beer. “Listen, Dee. You’ve got to stop playing the Kyle card. I’m pretty damn good at what I do, and with time, I’ll get him out of your life, once and for all. You know, as a lawyer, sometimes I have to be a psychologist. I have to figure out what makes people tick. What they’re afraid to admit. What walls they hide behind.” He paused. “Do you know what the wall you hide behind is called?”
With a sniffle, I shook my head. My eyes met his.
One word. “Fear.”
Bull’s-eye. An arrow straight to my chest.
My lips trembling, I simply nodded. Brock was right; I didn’t need a lecture. I’d lived my whole life in fear. Afraid to pursue my dreams. Afraid to stand up to Kyle. Afraid to leave him. Afraid to tell him my deepest, darkest secret. And now I was afraid to face the possibility of another man hurting me—and my baby girl—the way Kyle did. The long and short of it, I was afraid of falling in love. Afraid to admit it. But it was way too late. I was helplessly, hopelessly in love with Drake Hanson. My hand flew to my aching, breaking heart. I was bleeding tears.
“Dee?” The familiar but groggy voice of my sister spared me from saying anything. Wiping away my tears, I craned my neck and caught sight of her. She was wearing boxers and a tank top that showed off her lanky, toned body.
“I thought you weren’t coming back until early tomorrow morning.”
“We left early. I’m sorry; I should have called you.”
“Ty’s asleep?”
“Yeah, sound asleep.” It was too late to go into our disastrous trip to Vegas. And emotionally, I was too worn out to talk about it.
Lulu’s heavy-lidded eyes shot to Brock. “Baby, maybe you should go.”
“It’s okay, Lou. I already told him to stay. I’m going to hang out here and finish my wine,” I added, giving Brock no choice but to sleep with my sister. “See you in the morning.”
Brock smiled. “Thanks again. I promise to be out of here before you and Ty wake up.”
My eyes followed him as he ambled over to my sister and sweetly kissed her. Bidding me goodnight, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and ushered her back to her bedroom. A wave of sadness and self-pity swept over me.
I didn’t just finish the wine. I guzzled it. Drunk with emotion and overwhelmed with heartache, I once again did something I refrained from doing, living under the same roof as my daughter. Shoving down my jeans, I spread my legs and slid my hand under the waistband of my undies until two fingertips found my throbbing clit. Circling it vigorously like a finger-painting child, I fantasized about Drake and came in no time. Maybe I’d temporarily put out the fire between my legs, but the flames blazing in my heart persisted. Before I burned up with remorse and sorrow, I closed my eyes and let sleep consume me.
CHAPTER 44
Dee
Saturday. It was moving day. Everything was packed. Boxes filled with wrapped dishes and glasses as well as others filled with Ty’s picture books and my art supplies lined the living room floor. All my paintings were off the walls, each bubble-wrapped and packed in a carton. Ty’s ginormous plush frog, Froggie, sat upright against one of them. He was coming in the truck with us. Froggie looked sad, at least I thought he did. Tears welled in my eyes at the memory of Drake winning the oversized amphibian at the Santa Monica Pier. And the incredible evening that followed. Though I’d only been in this house for a short time, it held so many memories for me. It was impossible for me to mentally pack them away. Everywhere I looked I thought about Drake.
Soon the house would be demolished, making room for a condo complex that would stretch acr
oss the empty lot next door. I only wished my memories of my time with Drake would be demolished along with it. Not a minute went by without thinking about him. Despite my conversation with Brock last night, I knew the chances of having Drake back in my life were slim. Yes, yesterday he’d come by to see me. But opportunity didn’t knock twice. It was time to let him go.
The moving van would be here shortly. Lulu and I had hired some cheap students with a van to help us with the big stuff and to collect some of my furnishings, which were in storage. Hopefully, Lulu, who had run out to pick up some donuts and coffee, would be back before they showed up.
With a heavy heart and a little time on my hands, I did a final check. One painting remained. One I’d secretly started and almost forgotten. I’d hidden it under my bed. A portrait of Drake carrying Ty on his shoulders the day we all went to The Pier. I had committed that image to memory. Staring at it, my eyes watered. I had captured the moment perfectly, the sparkle in Drake’s beautiful blue eyes and the glee written all over my baby girl’s face. Heaving a deep breath, I debated whether I should leave it behind. Let it be demolished with the rest of the house. Before tears erupted, I impulsively carted it into the living room and decided it would come with me in the back of the pickup. I wasn’t sure if I’d hang it in my new place, but one day, I would have the courage to finish it. I wanted Ty to have this painting. To know there once was a good man in her life, who loved her with his heart and soul. As if she was his very own. Maybe one day they would connect again.
Setting the painting against a wall, my eyes darted from corner to corner. All looked good. Despite my gloom, I reminded myself that Ty and I were going to a better place to live, not too far away. With the substantial fee our landlord had given us for evacuating the premises before Lulu’s lease was up, I was able to afford a nice although small two-bedroom apartment in a secure apartment building where visitors had to use an intercom system to have tenant access. Lulu was moving into a one-bedroom in the same building though I had a hunch she would be moving in with Brock sometime soon.
Baby Daddy: A Sexy STANDALONE Romantic Comedy Page 24
