One to Love (One to Hold #4) (21 page)

I wanted to do both of those, but first, I called her.

“How’s it going with your son?” I asked when her soft voice filled the other end of the line.

“Oh, Slayde, he’s breaking my heart.” I was pretty sure she was kidding, but the sound of her in distress cramped my stomach. It had since that very first night.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“He’s growing up so fast!” She sighed. “I convinced Patrick and Elaine to take a date night, so it’s just me and him. He can count to ten! He knows more colors... He keeps patting my head and saying
purple
...”

“How old is he again?”

“Two!” She cried, and even though she was upset, I couldn’t help a laugh.

“Isn’t that still considered a baby?”

“He’s a toddler. And I remember so clearly the day he was born.”

The image of her caring for a little guy made me smile. “It sounds like you’re one of the best moms.”

The line was quiet a few moments, and her voice was hesitant when she spoke again. “Thank you. For telling me that story last night.”

My stomach tightened. “It was a shit story. I’m sorry I told you.”

“I’m glad you did.” Her voice was more forceful. “It helps me understand you better.”

“How about next time we just stick to your stories. They’re a little easier.” I looked at the
21
on my hand, thinking about her one bit of ink we hadn’t discussed, a potentially difficult Kenny story.

“Okay.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But I wanted to thank you for trusting me.”

A fist unclenched in my chest, and I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her how I felt, the possessiveness expanding and opening out to surround her. Instead, I stuck to the basics.

“I don’t want you to think I’m holding you out. There are just some things I’d rather not relive.”

“I understand that.” Her voice was quiet. With my eyes closed, I could see her mouth, and everything in me wanted to taste it.

“I wish you were here.”

“I’ll be there this time tomorrow.” She was smiling again. “I miss you, too.”

* * *

R
ook was waiting in his office when I arrived at the gym Sunday afternoon. “You wouldn’t happen to be licensed in CPR, would you?”

“No,” my brow lined as I watched him write on a blue card.

“Didn’t think so. I can’t officially certify you until you are, but I can make it pending that. It’ll cover us so long as Kenny or Pete is in the building.”

“I’m not interested in being certified—”

“Like I said, I’ll have to increase your pay. How does an extra five bucks an hour sound?”

“Fuckin’ good.” I might actually be able to buy a few more groceries. Take Kenny to a restaurant instead of my crap apartment for dinner.

“Let’s get started.”

Learning to be a trainer wasn’t much different from being trained. Basically, it was shit my own trainer had taught me when I was boxing—monitoring form, encouraging clients to push themselves.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Rook said, as I finished a set, bench-pressing three hundred.

Sitting up with a loud exhale, I shrugged. “You’ve had me moving some heavy shit around here.”

He laughed and clapped me hard on the shoulder. “That’s enough for today. You know more than most trainers starting out.”

I followed him back to the front ready to head back to my place. A quick look at the clock told me Kenny would be arriving soon, and I had a surprise in mind for her.

“The crews won’t be in port for another week or two. When they come, most of them won’t want a trainer. You’ll just make sure they don’t wreck the place.” We stopped at the juice bar, and Mariska slid over a white cup.

“Try that out and tell me what you think. No charge.” I glanced at her, and she winked. “It’s a new recipe. Supposed to build muscle mass. I need to know if guys will like it.”

It was a ruse, but I smiled and took it. Soon I wouldn’t be such a fucking charity case.

Rook continued. “You’ll need to hang around the gym more than you do now. Kenny and Pete’s schedules are pretty full with our regular members. You’ll pick up any overflow.”

“Got it.” I said, nodding as I took a big gulp of the protein shake. It was good—thick and not too sweet.

“Tammy will make you a timecard, and you’ll punch in and out. No more Sundays off.”

“I knew that was too good to last.”

He smiled and held out a hand. It was the first time he’d offered to shake, and I couldn’t help feeling honored. I gripped his large palm, and he finished.

“No more probationary period.” He held on a beat longer, and I was about to make a crack about not being his girlfriend when he blew me away. “You’re a good man, Slayde Bennett. Keep up the good work.”

His words hit me so hard. I had to clear my throat before I answered. “Thanks.”

“Oh!” Mariska cried, clasping her hands under her chin. “Where’s my damn camera when I need it?”

“Don’t spoil it.” Rook deadpanned, and I laughed. He released me, and I looked at my palm. Then I headed out. I had to make a quick stop before I was ready for tonight.

––––––––

P
atrick was dressed to go out when I arrived in Wilmington. Jeans and a polo were his standard going out attire, and his dark green shirt made his hazel eyes glow... as he narrowed them on me.

“What’s different?”

“You’re so suspicious!” I dropped my bags on the floor. “Nothing’s different.”

“Liar. This is not the pensive, angst-ridden Kenny who visited us last time.”

Rolling my eyes, I stopped at the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. “You’re so full of shit. That’s a total exaggeration.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Elaine entered the room carrying Lane, who only wore a diaper and a towel. “Baby here—no more swearing,” she called. “He just had his bath, and I barely got a diaper on him when he heard your voice.”

Laughing, I scooped his wiggling, grinning body from her arms. “How’s my big boy?” I kissed his chubby neck and took a deep breath of Baby Magic. “I’m sorry I was gone too long this time.”

He struggled in my arms, and I loosened them. Putting his hands on my cheeks, his blue eyes grew round. “Two mommies.”

Behind me I heard Patrick snort, and I cut my eyes at him. Back to the baby, I held my expression neutral. “Yes. Lane has two mommies who love Lane very much.”

“Ah, now you’re making it sweet.” Patrick pretended to complain.

Elaine breezed into the kitchen at that remark. “What’s sweet?”

“Lane has two mommies.” I said, and she paused.

Her hand went to her hip, and her expression grew thoughtful. “I guess we never really talked about that. Should we make out now or wait until later tonight?”

Patrick almost choked on a laugh, drinking from my water bottle, but I hugged Lane closer. “Do you think it’s confusing? I mean, should we call me... something else?”

She walked over to us, rubbing Lane’s little back. He reached out and stuck his fingers in her silky hair. “Two mommies.”

Her voice was gentle. “You
are
mommy—”

“No way, you’re mommy,” I argued. “You’re doing all the work.”

For a moment we only stood there, the two of us looking at the small human tying us together. My stomach twisted, and I couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever be able to think of me as anything more than a problem. Her annoying cross to bear.

Elaine was still rubbing Lane’s little back. “I love this guy.” The warmth in her voice gave me hope.

“Me too,” I said softly.

Our eyes met then, and she sighed, a small smile peeking on her lips. “Sounds like Lane has two mommies.”

Patrick put the water bottle down and walked over to where we were. “Daddy is very lucky. Two mommies is hot.”

Elaine punched him in the arm, and I snorted. Lane’s little face frowned. “No hit. Bad.”

“Daddy likes when Lainey hits him.” I kissed his little nose. “What else are you learning at preschool?”

“Not enough cleanup.” Elaine scooped an oversized racecar and a handful of stray Duplos off the floor, tossing them into a square bin in the living room. Then she was back, purse on her shoulder. The black dress she wore had geometric beige panels down the sides, making it look like a halter.

“I love that dress!” I sat in a chair by the table still holding Lane.

“If you were taller, I’d give it to you.” She kissed my head briefly before giving the baby a longer kiss on his chubby cheek. It was unexpected, and I liked the gesture. “We won’t be out too late.”

“Stay as late as you want! We’ll have dinner and then snuggle up with a few books until we fall asleep.”

She smiled and headed to the door as Patrick stepped forward to hug me and kiss his son. “Tell teacher Lane’s mommies kiss each other.”

“Patrick!” Elaine scolded from the door, but that made me laugh.

“Good one,” I chuckled, as he pecked my cheek.

“Tomorrow I want to hear all about this new guy.”

I tried to frown, but it came off as more of a distorted grin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Exactly.” He winked and followed Elaine out. I carried Lane to the living room, ready to relax and spend the evening with my boy.

* * *

T
he next morning, when I emerged from Lane’s room, Patrick’s going out clothes were replaced with jeans and a white tee. He held a mug of coffee. I held my overnight bag on one arm and my sleepy little son on the other.

“Did you two catch up?” he asked, handing me the mug.

“Yes!” I was refreshed after spending an easy evening watching airplane and video-game movies then going to bed at ten snuggled up with my baby. “I think we read every new book he got since my last visit. Holy crap!”

“Preschool had a book fair.” He grinned, rubbing Lane’s back.

“I figured it was something like that.”

Lane reached for him, and I passed the little guy over. He tucked his blond head into his daddy’s neck.

“Take care of your mini me.” I sipped my coffee watching Lane’s chubby fingers moving up and down on Patrick’s shoulder. “You two are too cute.”

“So tell me about this guy.” Patrick sipped his usual morning OJ, and Lane’s head popped up.

I smiled watching the two of them—Patrick held his glass while Lane took a drink. When they were done, I shrugged. “Just one of the new guys at the gym. He’s working with me on my boxing.”

Patrick’s eyebrow rose. “He’s a boxer?”

“Ex.” I took another sip. “Ex boxer.”

“Is he from Bayville? Somebody you knew before?”

“No,” I looked down, chewing my lip. “I’m not sure where he’s from originally. He just moved to the area.”

Patrick’s brow lined, and my chest felt squirmy. “What’s his name? What do you know about him?”

“Slayde Bennett? He’s my age, so he must’ve been just getting started when he had to quit. Boxing, I mean.”

“Why’d he have to quit?” Patrick was studying me too closely.

These were all valid questions, and I hated not having answers for him. At the same time, I knew Slayde. He didn’t.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted.

Patrick’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Those guys can be violent sometimes.”

“He’s not violent.” My mind traveled to the night on the beach when he’d rescued me. There was no way in hell I could tell Patrick about that. He’d lose it.

“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”

“There isn’t!” I shook my head, meeting his eyes. “I was thinking of how to describe him. He’s more into meditation and stuff. He has a system. He’s very controlled.”

Inwardly I cringed. It was all coming out wrong, but thankfully Patrick didn’t jump on that. Instead, he exhaled deeply.

“You’re a grown woman—”

“Thank you!” I said a little too loudly.

“And I was about to say I trust you.” He held my gaze, and my little boy did as well, watching me from where his head lay on his daddy’s shoulder. “But it’s like you women are always saying about my Harley—you’ve got other people who need you now, too. Remember that.”

“Oh, Patrick.” I stepped toward them both. “I could never forget that. I love you guys.”

“Mommy purple.” Lane pulled a long strand of my hair into his little hand. I caught it and kissed his baby knuckles.

He leaned down, and I took him from Patrick, hugging him close and kissing his neck. A lump ached in my throat. It was so hard to leave him. But that was what true love meant—sacrifice, making unselfish choices for the good of your loved one.

“Mommy will be back very soon,” I whispered. “Be a good boy for Mommy.”

Patrick took him, and it was like my heart stayed with that little body. I rubbed Lane’s back a moment longer. “Tell Elaine I said thanks. I’ll be back soon.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

Nodding, I grabbed my bag and headed out.

* * *

D
riving back to Bayville, I thought about how Slayde withdrew when I first mentioned Lane. It was so common for children of abuse to think they shouldn’t be parents or have any contact with children. I tried to imagine what kind of a little boy he must’ve been to survive the abuse he’d suffered.

He fought all his life, and then he became a boxer. I hoped one day he might trust me enough to tell me why he walked away from his career. Perhaps it was something as simple as he didn’t want to fight anymore.

All of his thoughtful gestures filled my mind, from the flowers to his attempts to feed me instead of himself, and when I pulled into my parking garage, all I wanted to do was throw everything in my house, shower quickly and head right back out to see him.

Just then my phone buzzed with a text.
Come to my place before you go home. I have something to show you.

It was Slayde, and I smiled, looking through my windshield a moment before turning the key and backing out of the garage again.

Henry was sitting in the parking lot when I arrived at the crummy apartment building he called home. I tried to imagine what in the world he could want to show me as I studied the sun glowing deep orange as it made its way lower in the sky. It was a beautiful evening.