by Evie Monroe
Hands on my hips, I looked at Ella, trying to decide what I was going to do.
She wasn’t just sucking on her thumb, she was biting on it and whining. That meant she was hungry, and about to resort to cannibalism.
Okay. First things first. Find some food.
I scooped Ella up, groaning at how heavy she was becoming, put my hand on the doorknob, and nearly opened it when I remembered whose house I was in.
Dammit. I had to make sure I didn’t look like the Night of the Living Dead.
I went to the dresser and looked at my reflection. Geez, and I thought I’d looked bad last night. My skin was sallow and I had bags under my eyes. I wasn’t sure if that was from last night or the accumulation of a hundred sleepless nights, wherein my life had progressively turned to shit. I combed one hand through my hair and arranged my tank and boxers before stepping out of the room.
As I did, I remembered the way Cullen and I’d lie in bed together, sometimes until after lunch. He was a late riser and would always take afternoon shifts at the garage.
At first I thought, good. I don’t need him.
But then I remembered I needed more diapers for Ella, and then I kind of did need him.
I set Ella down and together we padded into the kitchen. I opened up the refrigerator. Holy Code Blue. All he had in there was more beer.
Clenching my teeth, I looked at Ella. Things were so much easier when she was an infant and still breastfeeding. Now she wanted real food.
“Okay,” I said, looking around. She tottered around as I rubbed my hands together, ready for action. “Plan B.”
Shit. I really didn’t have a Plan B.
I opened up the freezer and found a lot of ice. Then I looked inside the huge walk-in pantry and found . . . he’d converted it into a closet for all of his motorcycle gear? Really? Didn’t this man eat?
Just then, Ella let out a shriek. I figured she was feeding off my desperation.
I started pulling open all the kitchen cabinets, willy-nilly, hoping for something. Cheerios. Didn’t he eat Cheerios? Or what was he? A vampire? What the hell? No wonder his body looked so chiseled. He probably kept himself fed with pussy and motor oil.
Ella started to whimper, “Beckfist.” If we were at the hotel, by now, I’d have gotten her breakfast. The hotel had free continental breakfast, so I’d always filled up on bananas and cereal for her, sometimes a bagel and milk.
She was hungry. “Shh,” I said to her gently, “We’ll have beckfist soon, baby. I walked to the windows at the front of the house. Beyond Cullen’s fortress of a stucco fence, I could see the road I’d come here on, curving dangerously downhill.
I went to the bottom of the sweeping curved staircase in the foyer and looked up. From here, I could see the door to Cullen’s bedroom. Closed. He’d probably be in there for another few hours.
Then I looked at Ella, whose face was getting red. She let out a cry. I needed to make a decision, and fast.
“Okay, this is Plan B,” I said to her, scooping her up and taking the steps two at a time. In the bedroom, I changed into my jean shorts and threw the flannel on, then, pocketing the hundreds Cullen gave me, went downstairs with Ella.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for as I went around and opened the kitchen door to the garage. I stepped inside and saw two motorcycles; his, and another one I’d never seen. No car. Not that I had a car seat. Of course, no stroller. This wasn’t Babies R Us. Oh, look, a wheelbarrow. That would probably get me taken in by Child Services.
I went back into the house to the front door. There was a keypad with an alarm system, blinking. I pressed the disable button, threw open the door and went out into the brilliant, sunshine-filled morning. Taking a deep breath, I settled Ella on my hip and walked down the winding path toward the street. She fussed at me to walk, but at the rate she meandered along, I didn’t have time. “Let Mommy carry you, baby. You can walk later.”
Even that short stretch had me out of breath. It wasn’t just that I was out of shape—he just had a really long driveway. Damn him for living way up here, on this cliff side, instead of right next door to a Circle K.
I scanned down the hill. All I could see were the tile roofs of more houses. And a ton of trees. The houses weren’t that close together. I guessed this was how the rich people lived in the hills. I had to do this. I took one step. And then another, patting Ella’s back soothingly. I’d walked about a half a block when I heard a voice.
“Are you all right, miss?”
I looked over to see an old woman at the house next to Cullen’s, crouching in front of a flower bed at the edge of the sidewalk, her gloved hands covered in dirt. “Yes, um—”
“You came from the McKnight house up the street?”
“I, uh . . .” I wasn’t sure I wanted to lay claim to that. I could only imagine that the McKnight hell-raisers weren’t the most decorous of neighbors. But I couldn’t lie. “Yes.”
I expected her to tell me to let Cullen know to keep the noise down. Instead, she stood up, wiped her gloved hands on her smock, and smiled at Ella, who was wriggling in my arms to get down. “What a darling.”
“Thanks,” I said, though she wasn’t being very darling at the moment. “This is Ella. She’s a little out of sorts right now.”
“I’m Barry,” she said, removing her glove and tickling Ella’s chin. Ella looked at her, awestruck. “You’re a cutie! She reminds me of my great-granddaughter. We watch her every day while our granddaughter’s at school.”
“Oh,” I said, scanning down the street. I really needed to be on my way if I was going to get some food for Ella before she went into complete meltdown mode. And what if I went down there to the main road and couldn’t find a convenience store nearby? Would I have to walk all the way back home, uphill?
Then suddenly, it hit me.
“Excuse me. I hate to trouble you, but do you happen to have anything for her to eat? Cullen doesn’t have any food in the house. I have no idea when he’ll get to the grocery store. She likes cereal or eggs, if you have any.”
Barry looked thrilled. The little old lady with the gray hair even clapped her hands excitedly and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh. Of course! Bring her in!”
So that was how I ended up sitting on the outside deck of the Sumter’s home, overlooking the ocean and feeding Ella a feast of fruit, cereal, and toast as Ella sat in the Sumter’s high chair. Ella squealed and delighted us with her new words as we chatted.
I learned that the Sumter’s didn’t hate Cullen yet because they’d just moved in two weeks ago. “It’s very nice to meet our new neighbors, finally,” she said with a smile as she brought out a platter with fresh-squeezed orange juice and pancakes with real maple syrup for us to share.
“Actually, I don’t live there, permanently,” I explained. “I’m in between places right now. I’m just visiting Cullen. I got in late last night and didn’t have a chance to do any shopping.”
“Cullen? Is he the man with the loud motorcycle and the constant frown?”
I laughed as I stabbed a pancake. “That would be him.”
“He doesn’t look very happy,” she remarked. “I’ve tried to be neighborly to him and he’s been rather closed off. Is he upset about something?”
I nodded as I drenched my pancake in maple syrup. I hadn’t eaten this well in ages. “Don’t take it personally. He’s like that with everyone.”
Unless you ride a motorcycle or have big tits and red hair, he’ll pretty much ignore you.
I ate about a dozen pancakes as Barry told me all about her life as a retiree. She’d come down from San Francisco with her husband, a retired lawyer. Her granddaughter had gotten pregnant in college, so now she worked during the days and went to school at night, and the Sumter’s were helping to raise the child. She went on about how they were going to build a swing set in the backyard and how our kids could have playdates together.
I smiled, thinking. Normalcy. That’s just what Ella needs. This c
ould be good.
But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. This was temporary.
When she asked me how long I was staying, I shrugged. I had no idea. I wanted forever. I wanted a place where I could lay down roots and be part of a community. I found myself feeling jealous of Barry’s granddaughter, who had the real stability of a family to come home to. Even if the baby didn’t have a father, she had love; so much love.
I was all Ella had. And really, Ella was all I had.
I tried not to think of that as I talked to Barry. We had such a nice time, chatting, that I didn’t realize how late it was until I glanced over the block wall to the house down the hill a way, and saw the screen door slide open. This incredibly hot, muscular, tattooed man in nothing but boxer briefs stepped out, strode across the deck, and stretched as he gazed out at the ocean.
I watched him, momentarily dazed, feeling a tingling between my thighs.
Then I realized the person was Cullen. And wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth.
“Speak of the devil,” Barry said, looking over at him. “He does know he has neighbors, doesn’t he?”
You wouldn’t think so, but as I knew well, Cullen was just a total exhibitionist. Hot as hell, and he knew it. Most of the time he was with me, he used to parade around his basement without a stitch. Barry was lucky he was wearing boxer briefs. I was pretty sure that eventually his new neighbors would wind up hating his guts, if not for his love of nakedness, then definitely for the loud parties, motorcycles, and every other hellraising thing that he did.
I stood up, stepped out from under the umbrella, and went to the railing. I cupped my hands around my mouth, and shouted out, “Cullen!” as I waved both arms wildly.
He turned, raising his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. When he saw me, his lips curved into a grin. “There you are.”
“Come over and meet your new neighbors!” I called out across the huge back yard.
He shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, “Busy.” Then he went back inside.
I snorted. The life of the party around anyone in his club, but a total asshole, otherwise. I frowned and turned to Barry. “I’m sorry. He’s a little closed-off. But I had a great time. I really appreciate your help. And your helping Ella.”
I went to lift her out of the high chair and noticed she was a little smelly. I cringed when I realized the first item on my shopping list had been diapers.
“Um, you wouldn’t have any extra diapers, would you?”
Smiling, she packed up an entire plastic shopping bag with them. Enough to last another few days, at least. “Come visit again,” she said. I thanked her over and over again, then went back to Cullen’s house.
As I went in the front door, I heard the noise of a television down the hallway. I followed it and ended up in an actual cinema room, complete with a giant screen and rows of movie-theater chairs. Cullen was sitting in the very center aisle, watching a movie that looked very R-rated. To confirm that, someone spouted off a long string of curses, as I tried to shield Ella’s ears. Then a woman took off her bra to reveal her enormous breasts. What a stirring epic.
Cullen watched, bare feet up on the seat in front of him, taking a swig of his beer. A beer? It was like, eleven in the morning.
Busy? My ass.
“You disabled my alarm?” he muttered.
I nodded.
He let out a low grumble.
“You missed the best pancakes,” I said loudly, over a string of gunshots from the movie.
He didn’t answer.
So I tried again, louder, “Are you ready to talk?”
He pointed the remote at me and pushed a button like he wanted to turn me off. He thrust his chin toward the screen. “I’m watching this.”
I groaned, took the steps down to his seat, snatched the remote from him, and turned it off. The silence was miraculous. “Don’t be an asshole. Let’s talk.”
He hitched a shoulder. “Why, baby? Didn’t you get enough talking in with those people out there?”
Ella was wriggling, so I set her down to totter around my feet. “They’re your neighbors. You could be nice to them.”
He laughed, a low rumble. “I don’t do nice, baby. You should know that about me by now.”
I shrugged. “Well, I do. I didn’t have anything for Ella to eat and she helped me. They’re good people. So even if you don’t do nice, it wouldn’t hurt you to just wave at Barry, instead of looking at her like you want to kill her, since she saved your kid from starvation.”
“Barry?” He said it like it was a curse. Then he shook his head. I don’t think it had actually settled into his cranium yet that he had a child. A child that needed the help of adults, namely, her parents, for survival.
“Yes. That’s her name. Barry Sumter. She’s very nice. She’s retired, and her husband is . . .”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head at me numbly.
“Okay. What do you care about?”
He sat up, laced his hands in front of him, like he was really listening. “Why the fuck you’re here. Now. So go ahead. Talk. I’m all ears. Why did you leave me?”
I stared at him. He was giving me this superior gaze, like anything I said, he’d try to shoot down. He was in the Cullen Angry Asshole mood. When he got that way, it was impossible to talk to him. “Because of that,” I said softly.
He gave me a look, like he wasn’t quite following. Then he laughed. “Because of what? Because I did something wrong, is that it? It’s not you. It’s never you. Just me?”
“Because I knew I was going to keep the baby. The second I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted it. And I almost did tell you, that day. But then, you got up, and left to go to your club, and . . .”
He stared at me, blankly. I wondered if he even remembered that day the way I did. He’d left so many women, since then.
“And I thought you’d tell me to get rid of it.”
He crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t have told you that. It’s your baby.”
“But she’s your baby, too.” I took another breath. “I knew the life you led wasn’t the type of life I wanted for my child. And the person you were wasn’t . . .wasn’t . . . ” I stammered. “Wasn’t the type of person I’d want to be father of my child.”
I watched his face carefully, waiting for the inevitable big reaction. I thought for sure there’d be one.
I thought he’d be pissed and yell at me.
Instead, the son of a bitch fucking smirked.
And then the smirk turned into long, low laughter. When he finished, he raised a palm to the ceiling.
“You got it. You’re smart, baby. And right. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me to be anywhere near that, either.”
His eyes roved over to Ella. We could see her blonde head dashing between the seats, checking out the place like the energetic toddler she was.
“Would you stop calling her that? She’s a she. And her name is Ella.”
He rolled his eyes. “See? I’m a shit father.” He sat up, taking his beer with him, and squeezed around me in the seat, getting so close I could practically reach out and lick that tattoo on his chest.
I refrained. But I felt dizzy. I squelched the pang of need that hit me low in my abdomen. “I want her to have a father,” I said. “Just not . . .”
He nodded. “Not me. Got it.”
“No,” I protested. “That’s not . . . I’d want you, if you were . . .”
I saw the look in his eyes and trailed off. If you were different.
But finding out he was a dad wouldn’t change this leopard’s spots. He didn’t want to change.
He climbed up the steps, then turned around, his ice-blue eyes piercing me straight to my core. His voice was low, growling. “Look. You can stay here as long as you want. My dad may have treated me like shit but he didn’t back away from his responsibilities. I’ll give you whatever money you want, on two conditions.”
I nodded.
He came up close to me, so close that I could smell the hoppy smell of beer on his breath. His gaze traveled lazily over my face.
“One. You keep the kid out of my way. And two, you keep your tight little ass out of my way, you got that, mama? I love my life now, and I ain’t gonna let either of you waltz in here and fuck shit up. Got it?”
I swallowed. And then I nodded, scooped Ella up, even though she kicked in protest. Wanted to run not walk everywhere. I took her back to our temporary bedroom, wondering how I could keep her in tow, my little live wire. How could we live under the same roof with him? I’d have to make it work. I didn’t have a choice right now.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted. For Cullen to suddenly become all mushy over the fruit of his loins and become father of the year? For him to profess his undying love for me? No, of course not. Maybe in a fairy tale.
But real life was far from a fairy tale.
Even though I’d been dreaming of the fairy tale ever since I was a little kid.
Chapter Five
Cullen
Bullshit.
Bull fucking shit.
I sat there on my stool at The Wall, listening to the other Cobras drone on about their lives, trying to get into it. By then I’d had a six-pack and a few shots of Jack, but I was still a long way from being numbed to what had happened to me the night before.
She left me because she was pregnant and thought I was a fuck-up who’d fuck up her kid.
And yeah, she was probably right.
I was a fuck-up, family-wise, at least. Best left alone in the family department. Unlike my father, I knew it. I didn’t profess to be a good dad and then go force my six-year old son to take a hit from my bong. I didn’t promise to take my eight-year old kid to the beach and then get too sloppy drunk to do it. I didn’t bring my eleven-year old kid to a poolside orgy so he could get his first blowjob.
No. That was my father.
As much as I cursed the DNA I’d gotten from him, I still had it inside me. I didn’t trust myself, and no one else should’ve trusted me, either.
Drake sat next to me at the bar, hitting on a blonde with triple D tits, feeding her shots, and including me in the rounds he bought. So I kept knocking them back, one after the other, not saying much of anything.
