A sick feeling churns in my stomach. “Is he…” I point to the baby.
Natasha’s eyes widen. “Yuk, no. What’s with you thinking old guys are the father of my kid? It’s a boy from school who wants nothing to do with us.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, I hid the pregnancy. Then one night, my foster dad got drunk, and his hands wandered a little too close to places Ineverwant him touching. My foster mom was too high to notice or just didn’t care. I knew I had to get out. So I ran. I couchsurfed with a couple of friends for a while, then one night, I was dumpster diving behind the club. Security caught me and brought me to the boys.”
“That must have been scary.” I’ve seen Kade and Lincoln in the same room together, and their size is intimidating.
She pulls her shoulders back. “Nothing scares me.” There’s a toughness to her voice, yet I saw the look of panic when she thought she could be sent back to her foster family.
“What happened next?”
“I told them exactly what I told you. No point in lying. I had nothing to hide. Except for how pregnant I was. Instead of calling anyone, they offered me a place to stay.”
“And you trusted them? Just like that?”
She shrugs. “What other choice did I have? It was either trust them or give birth on the street. But I’m no charity case. I only agreed to stay if I worked for them. So they gave me a job tending bar. I just couldn’t tell anyone how old I was.”
“I’m glad you’re some place safe now.”
Natasha gives a wide mouthed yawn, and her eyelids blink heavily. “Me too.”
“Here, let me put Remi in the crib so you can rest.” I take the sleepy baby off Natasha’s chest and cradle her to mine. A yearning that I’ve never had before tugs at my heart. I place her down, and Natasha crawls into bed.
“I’m making dinner. I’ll call you when it’s done.”
“Thanks. You’re the best,” she says as her eyes close.
In the kitchen, I gather the ingredients I bought to make pulled pork tacos. If I’d made her something that screamed vegetables and nutrition, I’m afraid she might not eat it. This way, I can hide beans, corn, slaw and tomatoes amongst the meat to make it look not so healthy. I’ll also add fries and ice cream for dessert.
Forty minutes later, I set the table and go call Natasha to dinner. Natasha is awake and looking fresher after her nap.
I’ve made more food, so I prepare a plate for Kade. Not because I’m yearning to see him—because I’m not—I don’t want good food going to waste. “I’m taking this over to Kade’s place. I’ll be back soon.” At his door, I knock as nerves flutter in my chest. I remind myself I’m only bringing him food. It’s no big deal. After a moment, I hear heavy footsteps. I hold my breath. Every time he’s near, I turn into someone I don’t recognize. He irritates me so much and at the same time, can turn me on in an instant.
This is probably a bad idea. I should go. Before I can turn away, the door swings open. My gaze trails over him. He’s dressed in gray sweats, the casualness of it catching me off guard—so different from the polished, all-black version of him I’m used to.
He leans a shoulder on the doorframe and crosses one ankle over the other. “What can I do for you, Daisy?”
For a moment, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, making it difficult to form words. So many things he ‘can do for me’ flash through my mind. I lift the plate I’m holding up. “If you haven’t eaten, I have food. I made too much and didn’t want it going to waste. I thought you might like it. Well, that’s if you like pork tacos. If not, that’s okay. I’ll bring it home for Sally. She’ll eat anything.” I slam my lips shut to stop rambling.
“I can eat. Thanks.” He moves away from the door and heads back into the apartment. Okay… I guess I’m following him inside. I was only supposed to hand it to him and leave.
We head through the living room and into the kitchen, which is luxurious, with polished marble benchtops, sleek matt black cabinetry and high-end stainless-steel appliances. Barstools line the edge of the enormous island.
I place the dish onto the counter. “Hope you like it. It’s nothing fancy. Just wanted to make sure Natasha was getting a nutritious meal.” I turn to leave.
“Have you eaten?” he asks.
I turn back. “Not yet.”
“There’s enough here for two. Would you like to join me?”
I wasn’t expecting an invitation. He’s usually pushing me away. The smart thing to do is say no. Staying as far away as possible from him is the safest option, yet I say, “Sure, thanks.”
He takes plates, glasses, and napkins from cupboards and a bottle of wine from a wine rack. We carry everything to the table placed by a window overlooking the mountains. At this time of night, the sun hangs low, casting a warm amber glow across the slopes of the hills. This is a view you could never tire of. We take a seat, and he pours two glasses of red wine, divides up the meal, and passes them to me.
Kade picks up a taco and takes a bite. “This is good, thanks,” he says from behind his hand as he chews.
