Up in Flames(45)

There was a good chance I wouldn’t find him again, but his pregnant whatever-she-was worked there. She’d been wearing a showgirl costume. I could at least find her. She might punch me, and I wouldn’t be able to hit her back, because she was pregnant and that’s just wrong.

Listen to me. She was pregnant with his child and I was considering going to find the man. I was crazy. He needed to be focusing on the woman he had knocked up. I wasn’t her.

My hand went to my stomach automatically, and I felt an ache there because that was true. I wasn’t pregnant with his child and never would be. She’d have a connection to him that I’d never have.

God, I was a wreck.

“Good morning, Nan.” Blaire’s Southern drawl caught me by surprise, and I looked up to see her walking toward me from her car. She had a plate of what looked like cookies in one hand and was holding Nate’s hand with the other.

“Aunt Nan!” He let go of his mother to run toward me. “Me and Momma made you cookies. Oatmeal ones with ganic flour and raisins. They’re good for you, and they taste yummy. Must be the ganic.”

Blaire chuckled. “He means organic.”

I smiled, pulling him to me. I had gathered as much. I was good at speaking Nate’s language. But I didn’t tell Blaire that. It would sound rude, and she had brought me Nate and made me cookies.

“Thank you very much. I love ganic cookies,” I told him, and kissed his little head. Then I lifted my gaze to Blaire. “I was in need of cookies and Nate today. Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded. “Rush mentioned you might need some company. We thought we’d make you a treat to bring.”

Her stomach was in the perfect shape of a basketball on her tiny frame. She was careful to eat only healthy, nonprocessed foods and feed the same to Nate. Even Rush had given in and begun eating healthier. I needed to tell her about my yogurt. She’d love that.

“I even have some almond milk in the fridge that would taste delicious with these cookies. I need a snack after my run. Want to share one with me?” I asked Nate.

He looked torn for a minute, then leaned into me. “Could we both get our own? I like a whole cookie.”

Laughing, I stood up and took his hand. “Yes, we can. I need to splurge. A whole cookie it is.”

“Yay!” he cheered, and held on to my hand tightly. We followed Blaire and the plate of cookies inside the house.

If I did decide to go to Vegas, I wouldn’t hunt Gannon down. I’d just see if he would find me. That was sane. Wasn’t it?

“Deep thoughts?” Blaire asked, looking at me as I stepped into the house.

I could talk about this with her. It made sense to get her opinion. Or someone’s opinion. But I was worried that the opinion would be to leave him alone and move on, and I didn’t like that opinion.

Not even a little bit.

“It’s a guy,” I blurted out, surprising myself and Blaire, judging by her wide-eyed expression. We weren’t close. We had learned to coexist because we loved Rush and Nate. But as for being buddies, I never saw that happening. Some bridges were too burned up to rebuild.

“Then he must be special,” she replied, closing the door behind Nate and me. Nate let go of my hand and ran toward the kitchen, calling out that he’d get the milk.

“He is,” I confirmed.

Blaire nodded. “Good. It’s time you found special. You deserve it.”

Those words weren’t all-powerful or magical or anything. But I wondered if the bridge between us wasn’t as unsalvageable as I thought.





Major


He moved quickly.

The landlord stood at the door to my apartment with two cops, waiting while I packed my bags. It appeared I was being evicted for a number of reasons that were false, but there was no sense in arguing. This was Cope’s doing. Not the innocent landlord’s. I would have called Cope, but my phone service had also been terminated.

This wasn’t for me. I didn’t like Cope. I hated the motherfucker. I’d go my own way. They didn’t want me to work for them. Hell, I’d fucked up an easy job. If Nan hadn’t been so damn needy in the beginning, I would have been able to reel her in. The woman wanted me just to herself. I wasn’t a one-woman man. Never would be. Couldn’t get tied down when I wanted adventure.

There had to be plenty of operations like DeCarlo’s out there. Preferably one without a Cope in the mix. He ruined all the fun. Every ounce he squeezed. I doubted the man had been laid in ten damn years. DeCarlo needed to get his right-hand man a stripper to ease him up some. Release that tension that radiated off of him.

Picking up my one duffel bag, I gave my short-term home a nod and headed for the door. “Well, it was fun, folks. Don’t let all this Rosemary Beach excitement and danger become too much for y’all,” I quipped, as I walked out of the place with a smile. They were puppets, and they didn’t even know it.