Correction. It’s not running away. I’m making a tactical retreat.
I have too much going on with finding out I’m a father – assuming I actually am Adele’s biological father – to get involved with a woman. Besides, I don’t get involved with women. Never have. Never will. Getting involved leads to complications.
I pick Adele up from her crib. And I have enough complications in my life.
Chapter 10
“Note to self: always check if the shower’s occupied.”
Sloane
Iscroll through the rental listings on Smuggler’s Hideaway. There isn’t much. Finding a place to rent on a small island is hard enough. But finding somewhere when you’ve been banned from most apartment complexes on the island? Nearly impossible.
And it doesn’t help that the island is a magnet for tourists. Most property owners simply leave their rentals empty during the winter rather than renting them out to locals. They can earn way more renting to tourists for four or five months than to a local year-round.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Smuggler’s Hideaway. I’ve loved the mermaid-obsessed island ever since my mom brought us here when I was twelve. The local kids immediately adopted me. They didn’t care about how many schools I’d gone to over the years. They included me.
Which is why I threw an absolute fit when Mom wanted to move on. I locked myself in the bathroom and refused to budge for an entire weekend.
Mom finally gave up. She’s more of a lover than a fighter. Most hippies are.
I push thoughts of Mom out of my mind. The last thing I need is to go for a stroll down memory lane.
Boozer sticks his snout under my hand.
“Yuck. Wet.”
He whines in response.
“We’ll go for a walk in a minute.”
He barks and leaps off the bed. He runs around in circles – his tail wagging with such vigor he nearly falls over.
“Who’s my silly dog?”
I shut my laptop and roll out of bed. I tiptoe down the hallway. I peek inside the nursery. Adele is sleeping in her crib. She’s not my responsibility today – it’s Sunday and Zane is home – but I can’t help but check on her.
I sigh as I stare at her crib. I’d love to have a child, a family. But I don’t want to be a single mom. I grew up without a dad. I won’t put my child through the same hardships I endured. Although I bet being a single mom would have been a lot easier for Mom if she didn’t flit from job to job.
Enough with the memories. Nothing good ever comes from reminding myself of the past.
I lead Boozer down the hallway and out of the house. By the time we return thirty minutes later, I’m covered in mud from head to toe.
I glare at my dog. “I told you not to chase the poodle.”
I swear, if he could shrug, he would. He’s completely unrepentant. Which became pretty obvious when he mounted the poodle and refused to get off of her until I yanked him away.
I stand on the porch and lift my hand to knock. What am I doing? I live here now. Temporarily. This isn’t a permanent situation. I’ll figure out a place to live soon enough.
My stomach sours but I ignore it. Making a happy family with Zane and his baby isn’t going to happen, no matter how much I want it to. Which I don’t, by the way. Zane is a player. Enough said.
I slowly open the door and peek inside. I don’t want Zane to see me covered in mud. I drop my shoes on the porch and enter with Boozer.
“Be quiet. The baby might be sleeping.”
He follows me to the bedroom. I notice Adele is still sleeping in her crib, and Zane’s door is closed. He’s probably catching up on sleep after the hectic night.
I strip out of my muddy clothes and set off for the bathroom. I freeze at the entrance to the hallway. Shit. I’m naked. In Zane’s house.
