“What does she have to gain?” I ask. It’s too much to lay on her. She only signed up to be Isaac’s nanny and to share my bed whenever both of us feel like it. Not a fake marriage proposal.
“Just give it a shot, will you? It’s one way I can almost guarantee that you’ll be sure to keep Isaac.”
I’d do anything to keep Isaac, but even the thought of asking Mila makes me break out into a cold sweat. It makes me feel like a user.
I find her at home waiting for me.
“How did it go?” she asks as soon as I enter the house.
“Let’s go sit down,” I say, buying time.
I tell her everything from the start, including the attorney’s suggestion. “I told him to forget it. It wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t ask that of you, Mila. You’ve given so much to us already.”
She contemplates me. “I’ll do it.”
I think my hearing is flawed. ‘What?”
“I said I’ll do it. I’ll marry you. For a month, two months, whatever you need. I can’t bear the thought of Isaac going to live with your ex-wife. I’m sorry, but she gives me bad vibes.”
I cover my face and almost break into tears. I’m hanging on by a mere whisker. Mila comes to me and sits on my lap. I wrap my hands around her waist, and she clings to my neck.
What have I done to deserve such kindness? To have Mila in my life? I want to say no, to reject her offer, but I can’t. I’ll try anything to keep Isaac and not just because I love him so much. It’s because I believe I’m a better parent.I’ve provided stability for Isaac. He’s surrounded by all our friends, and now we also have Mila. When I think of Isaac going to live in a house where his purpose is to be an heir, my insides twist.
“So, when is the wedding?” Mila says, adopting a playful tone.
***
Before Isaac and I go for baseball practice, I call my attorney to tell him the good news. He’s excited to hear that Mila has agreed to marry me. He instructs me on what I need to do to get the wheels rolling.
The first thing is to log on to the county clerk website to apply for the marriage license. I stare at the form. My hands are clammy, and my heart is pounding wildly. I can’t believe that I’m doing this again. Even if it’s fake, the outcome is the same. Mila will always be a part of us.
I soon realize that Mila and I have to fill out the form together. It also hits me just how little I know about her. I’m marrying a stranger. What if she’s not who I think she is? All sorts of horrors go through my mind. Five minutes later, I’m sweating.
I shut off my laptop and get Isaac from his room. We head out for practice, but first, we swing by Collins’ to pick up his son, Thomas. Debbie is not available to drop him off, and I’m glad to pick him up. They’ve done so much for us, and I feel good when I can do something in return.
I honk when we reach the driveway, and Thomas comes out, followed by his dad. We exchange greetings, and then he leans in to whisper to me.
“The report you wanted has arrived,” he says.
For a second there, I have no idea what he’s talking about. Then it comes to me, and I slap my forehead. So much has happened since I asked for a background check on Mila’s ex that I completely forgot about it. “Oh, yes? What does it say?” I ask him.
“Your man’s clean,” he says, and relief floods me. I have enough on my plate without having to deal with an ex who has a criminal past. I feel safer.
An idea comes to me then, and I feel terribly disloyal, especially after what Mila has done for us. But I really need to know that I’m not placing my son in danger. A nanny is one thing, but bringing Mila semi-permanently into our home is a whole different thing. For one, as my wife and Isaac’s stepmom, she would get certain rights, and that thought brings out a cold sweat.
“Thanks, man,” I tell Collins. I fumble as I search for words to say what I want. “I’m sorry to be a pain, but I need a check on one more person,” I say, speaking in a low voice.
“Sure man, anything,” Collins says.
“I want you to run a check on Mila,” I tell him.
He grins. “On it.” He claps my shoulder. “Never feel bad for trying to keep your boy safe.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and start the car. I feel soiled and want to get away from here. Mila would be devastated if she knew that at that very moment, I had given my friend the go-ahead to do a background check on her.
During practice, my concentration is off. I keep looking around expecting Brenda to pop out of nowhere, though Mila told me she hadn’t asked about Isaac once. She’s not likely to come looking for him. When Brenda walked out of our lives, she was done with us for good. She’d probably have stayed away if her new husband had not decided he wanted an heir. She left and did not look back once.
After practice and dropping off Thomas, I decided to throw out feelers and see how Isaac would take to my marrying Mila.
“What do you think of Mila?” I ask him, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. He smiles, and that warms my heart.
“I love her.”
The simple words make me breathless for a few seconds. It’s as simple as that for Isaac. He loves her. No games or playing around. I wish adults were this honest and clear about their feelings.
“I asked her to marry me,” I say.
Isaac’s face lights up. “Really? Like she gets to live with us all the time and become my mom?”
Guilt floods me, and I question this whole thing. What happens when our fake marriage is over? Will it be fair to Isaac to have him attached to her, and then she leaves? On the other hand, I can’t not tell him that Mila and I are getting married. People will have to know. From what my attorney told me, the courts will appoint an evaluator whose work it will be to ascertain how fit my home is for Isaac. So, Isaac has to know that Mila and I are married. I wish there were another way.
“Yes,” I finally tell Isaac. “Mila will be your stepmom.”
“Cool,” he says in a voice filled with awe as if I’ve promised him a new toy.
I take that opportunity to ask him about Brenda. “Do you miss Mom?”
The smile leaves his face, and he looks out the window. I stop the car and pull over to the side. Removing my seatbelt, I turn to him.
“Hey.”
He looks at me, and my chest pains at the tears in his eyes.
“I don’t remember her, Dad, and that makes me sad,” Isaac says. A part of me is relieved. I’d thought that he missed his mother every minute of the day. I’ve had nightmares of Isaac crying himself to sleep from missing his mother.
“You were really little when she left,” I tell him.
“What if she came back and I don’t recognize her?” he says.
“She would recognize you, though,” I tell him. “If you want to remember her face, you can look at the picture on the living room wall.”
He looks away. It has not escaped my notice over the years that Isaac rarely looks at the picture. He doesn’t comment on that, and I don’t push it.
“Would you like her to come and visit you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
All breath leaves my lungs. I’ve tried to portray Brenda in a good light, telling Isaac that his mom had to leave us because she had a new job.
“You don’t know if you’d like to see Mom?”
“She left us, Dad. She didn’t like us anymore. I don’t like her either.” He crosses his little arms over his chest.
I want to curl up my fist and punch something. Hard.
Chapter 17
Mila
We step out of the courthouse with Isaac between us, clad in a little suit. We stand at the steps and wait for Brad’s attorney. I feel as if there’s a wedge between us, and I don’t know the cause of it. It started this morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, and Brad got a call from his friend Collins.
Afterward, I’d caught him staring at me, and he’d been distant. I tell myself it’s the awkwardness of the day. The ceremony, if you can
call it that, was nothing like my first marriage. It was all business, and although I know our marriage is fake, I wouldn’t have minded a little pomp.
“Can we go for pizza?” Isaac asks.
“Sure,” Brad and I say at the same time. We exchange a look and smile.
“Congratulations,” Brad’s lawyer says, joining us. He and Isaac are the only ones who looked like they’re in a celebratory mood.
“Shall we?” Brad says, and we walk to the parking lot.
The ride in the car is quiet. When we reach the pizza place, Brad helps Isaac to change into casual clothes I’d packed. Then we walk in, a man in a light blue suit and a woman in a pretty pink dress and a flower on her hair. I feel ridiculous and overdressed.
“I’ll go and play before the pizza comes,” Isaac says and runs off. There’s silence when he goes, and it’s not the comfortable silence that I’m used to with Brad.
“What is it?” I ask him softly. “You’ve not been yourself since morning.”
He glances away and then back at me as if wrestling with whether to tell me or not. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a big shot artist?” he blurts out.
I inhale sharply. I never expected this, and it takes a moment to register in my brain that Brad knows what I do.
I decide to tell him the truth. “I haven’t painted in a while,” I tell him. “I’ve had painter’s block since the day Clay walked out on our marriage. I came to LA to give myself a break from the pressure of painting.”
The hard look is gone from his face. He’s going back to the Brad I know.
“I didn’t want to talk or think about painting. I wasn’t keeping it away from you. Honestly. It was about me and wanting to leave it behind me for a while.”
He reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m sorry for being upset. I should have known that you wouldn’t keep something like that from me deliberately.”
We sat smiling at each other, the wedge between us gone.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Brad says.
“Wife of Mr. Bennett,” I say.
We burst out laughing. Then something strikes me, and I turn to him. “How did you find out?”
Brad changes immediately. He shifts in his chair and refuses to meet my gaze.
“Brad?” I say when he doesn’t answer my question.
“Collins has contacts with the police, and I gave him your name to check you out.”
Horrified does not begin to describe how I feel at this moment. My jaw drops. I go from disbelief to red hot anger. “How dare you?” I hiss.
“I had to know, Mila. For Isaac’s sake.”
“You could have asked me.” I can barely open my mouth enough to let the words out. I sit back and cross my hands across my chest.
“Mila…” Brad begins. I shut him up with a look.
We sit silently until our food comes. Isaac joins us, and we’re forced to smile, but my face feels like one stiff block of skin. The pizza tastes like cardboard.
Isaac plays for another half hour, and then he’s ready to leave. The anger has ebbed away, and all I feel is sadness. The melancholic feelings are overwhelming me. I desperately need an outlet. At home, I practically leap from the car.
“I need some time,” I mumble to Brad and then kiss Isaac on the head. I didn’t need to make an excuse to Isaac. He won a toy truck in some game at the play area, and he’s eager to test it out.
I don’t feel any better when I finally close the front door of my rented house and lean on it. Tears gather in my eyes, and I allow them to fall. Something I’d promised myself I’d never do for another man.
I trudge to my studio in the attic, grab my sketchbook, and curl myself on a couch. I dabble on it, not quite drawing anything but shapes that look like something out of a horror movie. I sit and brood like this until the room is enveloped by darkness. As I sit there, a sudden realization comes over me. Brad did exactly what I’d have done given the circumstances. This is his son we’re talking about. He has to do everything he can to keep Isaac safe. Guilt floods me when I remember how angry I was. I glance at the time. Half-eight. It’s too late to tell Isaac goodnight.
I go down to my room, take a shower, and wear my maxi dress, which I know Brad likes. Then I grab a bottle of red wine and head next door. I have my keys, but after what happened, I feel like a stranger. I knock lightly on the door. I hear Brad’s heavy footsteps on the other side of the door before it swings open.
His face creases into a smile when he sees me.
“I’m here for my honeymoon,” I say.
He draws me in and shuts the door. Then he takes me into his arms and kisses me on the mouth.
“I’m sorry, Brad. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you,” I say. “You were looking out for Isaac as you ought to.”
“I’m sorry too,” he says. “I should have asked you rather than sneak around your back. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” I tell him.
He takes the bottle of wine, and I follow him to the kitchen. My heart is light again, and I feel happy as if I’m walking on air.
“Any plans for our honeymoon?” Brad asks as he grabs some glasses from the cabinet.
I admire his muscular ass as he bends over. My husband, I think to myself and ignore the voice in my brain reminding me that it’s fake. It might be fake, but I’m going to enjoy every moment of being married to Brad and being Isaac’s stepmom. I never thought that I’d have a son. Whatever happens between Brad and me, Isaac will always be in my life, and for that, I’m grateful.
Brad stands and looks at me expectantly.
“Oh yes, the honeymoon,” I say and think fast. “I thought the newly married couple could toast their new union, dance a little, and then have an early night to consummate the marriage.” My chest is heaving as I speak.
“How about we skip straight to the last part,” Brad says, his eyes skimming my body.
“I’m all for that,” I say, my voice husky and suggestive.
He places the glasses on the counter, and in two steps, he’s by my side and lifting me up. I laugh when I feel myself in the air. “My caveman,” I tease Brad, and he growls in response. He pauses, and I flick the light switches as we make our way to his bedroom.
He kicks the door closed and then nuzzles my neck. “You smell so fresh,” he says. He carries me to the bed and places me on it. He makes as if to switch off the lights.
“No, don’t. I want to see you,” I tell him, and prop myself up on the pillows to watch him as he undresses.
He hums a tune and then twists his body as he undoes the buttons of his shirt. He holds an invisible pole and goes around. Giggles erupt from my mouth. He catches my eyes, locks his gaze, and then blows a kiss. He continues with the impromptu striptease. My giggles evaporate when he’s only left with his boxer briefs. His cock tents his boxer briefs, and I want to touch it so bad. Brad places his hand on it and then pulls down his briefs. I don’t breathe as he stands there looking at me, his hand on his cock.
“Fuck, Brad,” I say. It’s so hot sitting there, watching my man stroke himself while looking at me.
“The first time I saw you, I jerked myself off in the shower,” he says.
My pussy throbs. “What were you thinking?”
His cock is so big, and as Brad strokes it, he wipes the precum from the tip, and it spreads to the rest of his cock. “I fantasized of how it would feel like to lick your pussy and then to fuck you senseless,” he says.
I stand up and strip off my clothes in record time. And then, I stand in front of him. “Show me.”
He lets go of his hard cock and goes to my feet. “I tasted you first,” he says as he parts my legs. His tongue tentatively goes to my folds, and I part my legs further.
“Your pussy tasted of exotic fruit just as it does now,” Brad says as he applies pressure on my clit with his tongue.
I bite my lower lip. “Then what did you do?”
“Mmmm, I plunged a finger into your hot pus
sy while nibbling on your clit.” He stops talking to perform the next action, and my legs lose all strength.
He chuckles softly. “I might have to skip the next parts.” He picks me up and carries me to bed.
“Please,” I say. My pussy is on an unbearable fire that can only be put out by his massive cock. “I need your cock inside me. Now!”
He sees something in my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” He flips me around, pulls at my hips, and takes me from behind, his cock filling every crevice in my pussy.
And when I come, it’s in a tornado of pleasure that pulls me until I feel as if I’m losing my mind.
Chapter 18
Brad
I feel as if we’re a family as we walk around the aquarium hand in hand. I smile at Isaac’s ‘wow’ cries as he stares at the huge sharks behind the glass. It’s a Sunday, and we’re doing what normal families do during the weekend. Mila is just as enthralled as Isaac. They press their faces against the glass. One of the sharks gets close to them; they jump back, and then we all laugh. We walk leisurely through the indoor aquarium center, and afterward, we go for a quick lunch before heading back home.
I park the car in the driveway and don’t see her until I’m out of the car. I should have expected it, but somehow, with the planning for my marriage to Mila and enjoying being with her, I’d completely forgotten about Brenda. She’s leaning on the porch rails and straightens up when I get out of the car.
Anger coils in my stomach and I force myself to take a breath and be cool. Mila also sees her, and she thinks faster than I do. She tells Isaac something about pictures in her house, and they go in the opposite direction.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask her. I’m not in the mood to be polite. This woman is threatening my son’s happy existence after leaving him two years earlier without a backward glance.
“I came to see Isaac, of course,” she says. “I’d like to take him to lunch.”
“He’s already had his lunch,” I tell her curtly.
“The park then. I want to spend some time with him.”
“He doesn’t remember you, Brenda,” I tell her.
Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 9
