Daddy Jim’s meat was my sweet treat.
The doorbell’s buzz yanked me out of a mid-afternoon nap on the sofa on Sunday. After a weekend of being wrecked by a man who knew every trick in the book, the last thing I needed was an uninvited guest.
“I’m coming,” I snapped, marching to the door as it buzzed again. “No rest for the wicked.”
I pulled it open. Two wide, puppy-brown eyes blinked at me.
Erin Everton-Scott.
“What the hell are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?” I planted a hand on my hip, taking in her glossy hair and perfect manicure. Of course. Alistair had a type—tall brunettes. She and I could’ve traded shoes, same five-nine frame.
“I have my ways,” she said, her eyes narrowing at my checkered pajama pants before she smiled too widely. She wore bubblegum-pink leggings and spotless off-white trainers, all dressed up in mock innocence. “I came to raise a white flag. Call a truce.”
I studied her, weighing the odds. Erin was poison dressed as fruit, but curiosity always tripped me up. I stepped aside. “Fine. Say what you need to say, then get out.”
My eyes dropped to her stomach. “How’s the pregnancy? Any nausea?”
She gave me a syrupy look. “Oh, sweetheart, just a little morning sickness. A touch of dizziness. Otherwise, I’m peachy-perfect.”
Sweetheart. Alistair used to call me that. I’d been stupid enough to let him.
Erin’s gaze sharpened, cutting through the sugar. “Oh, poor Vera. You look upset. Honestly, your face looks like it’s been hit by a truck.”
“It takes a lot more to upset me than a homewrecker, honey,” I lied, masking the pain. “So, does your husband know the baby isn’t his?”
Erin let out a high-pitched laugh that made my skin crawl. She cleared her throat, eyes glittering. “I’ve come to an agreement with Oliver and Alistair. Oliver’s name goes on the birth certificate. We stay married. And, well, he accepts that I’m… let’s call it polyamorous.”
I raised a brow. “Wow. Living the dream. Funny, though. Polyamory usually requiresinformedconsent. So tell me, was Oliver informed before you spread your legs for Alis?—”
Her glare sliced across me. “Vera, do I need to remind you who I am? I am a Scott. And you will respect that. Oliver knows the truth. He and Alistair both love me. Oh, you didn’t know?”
The words landed like broken glass. My chest tightened, but I forced my shoulders straight, my stare steady. “Stop fucking with me and get to the point.”
“You’d better be careful.” Erin’s hand stroked her bump, her voice dropping into a mock warning. “Pregnant women are vulnerable. You wouldn’t want to hurt Alistair’s child, would you?”
“You’re married to his brother.”
“And I’m carrying Alistair’s baby.” Her smile sharpened. “I love him. He loves me.”
“You’re either stupid or a liar,” I shot back. “Why would you even tell me this? I could go to the press tomorrow and ruin your picture-perfect marriage.”
She leaned in, voice honeyed and cruel. “Sweetheart, nobody would believe you. They’d laugh you off as a desperate gold digger trying to cash in on the Scott name. Alistair dated you a few times. Big deal. He fucked you because you were easy. And the whole time?” Her smile twisted. “He was thinking of me.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he told me. He can’t have me, so he uses other women to release his?—”
“He can’t have you? I thought you said you were polyamorous,” I cut her off. I knew now she was lying. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “What do you want from me?”
Erin tilted her head, lips curling into a snarl. “You’re shaking. Wow. I didn’t think it was so easy to get rid of pests. That is what you are to me.”
“It’s time for you to leave my apartment.” My voice came out steady, even as heat prickled behind my eyes and my knees wobbled beneath me. I locked her with a stare, daring her to see anything else.
Her plastic smile stretched wider. “Alistair has a message for you.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Her gaze narrowed, cold and gleaming. “He wants you to stay out of his life.”
