Noah laughs, grabs everything and we head through the archway into a less formal sitting room than the one he took me to the other night. We sit close together on the couch and Noah eats another cake.
“I don’t know about your son being hyper. You’ve eaten three of those.”
“Dinner was leftover takeout, I’m hungry.”
He eyes me when he says that and it almost makes my resolve not to jump him vanish into a puff of smoke, but I hold off.
“Your son, he’s sleeping?” Noah’s jaw clenches. “I’m sorry, I’m curious.”
“About why I don’t want anyone to know about him?”
“More like his name,” I duck my head a little. “How old he is.”
“Oscar and he’s two.”
The tension isn’t leaving his shoulders. We need a change of subject. Given what he does for a living… Wait, is being the President of a motorcycle club a job? Does he get paid? Shit, I don’t want to know the answer to how they make their money.
“It’s a touchy subject for me.” He’s staring at his beer bottle as he continues and I keep quiet. “I never thought I’d have kids or wanted them if I’m being honest. An accident happened and nine months later, she told me.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Not until he was born, but she did the right thing telling me. It was a shock, won’t lie, but I can’t imagine my life without him now.”
He glances to the side, and I follow his gaze to a baby monitor. My heart melts a little.
“You want to ask about his mom, right?”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You’re a bad liar, Cherry.”
“I never said I didn’t want to know, I said I wasn’t going to ask.”
“We have joint custody. She’s away right now,” he frowns. “We split his time so we both see him equally.”
That is surprisingly normal given his lifestyle. Getting my hopes up is still premature. “And Jesse takes care of him when you’re busy?”
“Yeah, he loves Uncle Jesse. Sometimes…” the smile that started fades. “It feels like he spends more time with him than I do. With the way things are, it’s difficult. I try to be there as much as I can.”
“He seemed happy when I came around. Even if I did think you were a jackass. The kid gave you a slap on my behalf.”
“Is that right?” He smirks at me.
“He’s obviously smart, he could tell you were being rude.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me say it.”
“It’s a little late.”
“Yeah well, I have my reasons. But, shit, sorry for being a jackass.”
He holds in his laugh for five seconds, which gets harder when I nudge him. Noah pokes me in the ribs making me shriek, then slap a hand over my mouth and look up.
“He’s a heavy sleeper, you don’t have to worry about making noise. Within reason. Although making you scream is fast becoming one of my favorite things to do.”
My resolve ran right out the door without a second look back. Noah grabs my hip and pulls me toward him and I don’t fight it, straddling his lap. He sets my beer bottle down on the table beside him, then brings his hands to my hips.
“I’m really tempted to go get some cupcakes so I can lick frosting off your tits,” he says, his hand gliding up to cup them. My back arches, pushing them further into his palms. “But that would mean getting up and I don’t want to do that.”
