“Right?” Addi grins. I grin back at her.
Bailey rolls her eyes good-naturedly and turns around. She grabs a glass from a cupboard near the sink, then goes to the refrigerator for a carton of milk. Pouring Addi a glass, she sets the milk in front of her, then pushes the rack of cooling cookies toward us. “Have at it.”
I wait for Addi to reach for one, then shoot my arm out and grab it before she can. “Hey!” she cries, giggling. I take a big bite out of it and raise my eyebrows at her in mock innocence. I don’t know what it is about this little girl that makes me want to clown around for her. I’m not much of a kid person, to tell you the truth. She rolls her eyes in an exact imitation of her mother, and reaches for the cookie beside it.
“Hey,” I murmur around my mouthful. “These are pretty good.”
“They’re my absolute favorite!” Addi says dramatically. She tilts her head back and lowers the cookie into her mouth, then take a bite and flings her arms out in an expression of ecstasy. I have to laugh.
Addi and I each eat three cookies, and then Bailey tells her she’s had enough. Addi whines but doesn’t push it too far.
“You can have some sugar cookies when they’re ready later,” Bailey promises.
“Can I help you make them?” Addi asks. This gets a tender smile from her mom.
“Of course you can. I’ll call you when I’m ready to start on them.”
“Okay!” Addi looks over at the kitchen table. “I’m gonna go in my room and make some more of the garland for the tree.”
“Thank you, honey.” Bailey kisses Addi on the top of the head, then gives her a playful swat on the behind. Addi pretend-yelps, then grabs some construction paper, a pair of scissors and a Scotch tape dispenser on the table, and heads for her room. “Bye, Gage!” she calls as she goes.
“See ya around, kid!” I call back.
“Well, that was quite a turnaround,” Bailey remarks mildly when Addi’s out of the room.
I pull my gaze from her kid and look at her. “Whaddya mean?”
“Just that you seem to have somehow improved my daughter’s mood.” Bailey frowns for a second, then sighs. “Thank you for being so good with Addi, Gage. The fact is, she’s had a rough past couple of days.”
“Why’s that?” It ain’t any of my business, but something in Bailey’s eyes tells me she wouldn’t mind talking to someone about it. She pauses, sucks her plump lower lip between her teeth for a second, and then sighs again.
“This is the first Christmas for her without her dad. We divorced earlier this year, and I think she’s really missing the traditions she remembers.” She shrugs, looking sad. “We lived in Pennsylvania before we moved here, so her dad’s far away. He hasn’t been very good about trying to maintain any sort of connection with her since we split up. I’m guessing just having someone other than me pay attention to her for a little bit — especially a male — made her feel a little better. A little more noticed.”
Huh. That explains why I never see a father coming to pick the kid up. “That sucks.”
“Yeah.” Her tone is bitter. “It really does suck.” Bailey shakes her head. “I think Addi blames me for it, to be honest. I’m the one who had to move Addi away from the city where we lived, because I needed to find work. But the fact is, her dad disengaged from her almost the moment that we split up. Garrett was the one who pushed for us to start having kids, but once it actually happened, I think he realized he liked the idea of being a dad more than the reality of it.” She swallows. “It was hard enough keeping him engaged in Addi’s life when we were married and living in the same house. Now? It’s practically impossible. Do you know, he actually forgot her birthday two months ago? I had to run out and buy her a present from him the day before, so she wouldn’t know.” Bailey abruptly stops talking, then shakes her head again and laughs. “I’m so sorry, I’m babbling. I’m sure you don’t want to hear any of this.”
“Actually, I do.” I don’t know why, but it’s true. I want to know more about this chick. And I want to punch the shit out of her ex. That kid doesn’t deserve this. She deserves a dad who isn’t an asshole. “Where is her dad?”
“In Cabo. With his flavor of the month.” Her voice is tinged with irritation, but I don’t get the sense it’s because she misses him. On the contrary.
“So it’s just the two of your for Christmas this year.”
“Yes.” Bailey nods and glances toward the living room, where a small, plastic tree is nestled in the corner. “It’s not quite what she’s used to,” she admits. “But I hope I can make it okay for her.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“What about you?” she asks suddenly. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
“Nothing.” I lift a shoulder. “I ain’t really into the holiday shit.”
Bailey looks at me in alarm. “You aren’t celebrating at all?”
“Nah. It’s no big deal. It’s just another day.”
“It’s not though!” She shakes her head rapidly. “It is a big deal.”
“Not for me. I don’t have any family. I’ll probably just work on my bike or something. Watch some football. I dunno.” Bailey looks so dismayed that I feel like I have to reassure her. “Look, I’ve been spending Christmases by myself for a long time now. I swear it doesn’t matter.”
Bailey stares at me. I swear she seems more upset about this than I am. Her lower lip slides between her teeth again as she considers my words, and the sight goes straight to my dick.
“Do you… I mean, would you want to come over here?” she blurts out. “For a meal? I bought too much food for Addi and me. I’m not used to it being just the two of us. It would sort of be paying you back for fixing my washing machine. And, honestly, I think it would be nice for Addi to have more than just me here.”
I should say no. God, should I say no. I meant what I said to her. Christmas doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to me. I want to fuck this woman, sure. Hell, if her kid wasn’t around it already would have happened by now. But I’m not interested in playing daddy to a single mom and her kid, even for a day. Even if the mom is sexy as hell and the kid is sort of okay as kids go.
But for some reason, as I stare at that lower lip she’s biting, the refusal I’m about to give her dies in my throat, and something else comes out of my mouth instead.
“Sure,” I hear myself say. “What time do you want me here?”
5
Bailey
You look like a sparkly weirdo elf.
I shoot daggers at my reflection in the mirror. I’m wearing a green sequined minidress that I haven’t put on since New Years Eve three years ago. It’s ridiculous.
This is the fourth outfit I’ve tried on this morning. I have no idea what to wear for the Christmas meal with Gage. Not to mention, I’m bleary-eyed from lack of sleep after finishing up decorating the tree with Addi last night, putting out milk and cookies for Santa, getting her to bed, and then setting up Santa’s presents under the tree (and eating the cookies) before I finally got to bed this morning around two.
Not that that’s when I fell asleep, of course. I spent quite a while thinking with nervous anticipation about Gage coming over today before I eventually managed to drop off.
Addi woke me at six forty-five to open presents — shaving fifteen minutes off our rule of not before seven o’clock, but I decided to let that slide this time. We opened Santa’s presents and her father’s present (bought and wrapped by me, of course). We both agreed we’d save our gifts to each other for when Gage is here. I made her her favorite breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes — for special occasions only. Now Addi’s in her room playing with some of her new stuff. And I’m in my room, trying to pretend that I’m not freaking out about having the hottest man I’ve ever seen over for Christmas dinner.
I peel off this ridiculous dress and rummage around in my closet for something that doesn’t seem so overly formal and festive. I’ve gone back and forth all morning about whether it was a mista
ke to invite Gage over today. On the one hand, now I’m a complete and total nervous wreck about the day, for reasons I only brought on myself. On the other, having him come over seems to have worked some kind of magic on Addi’s glum mood. After Gage left last night, she insisted on finishing up the garland for the tree, and then retreated to her room to make a secret present for him. She even wrapped it herself, dragging the box of Christmas wrap in and closing the door so I wouldn’t see anything. The only clue I have is that there may have been glitter involved — which I only know because I saw the tell-tale signs on her fingers afterwards.
And then, it did seem incredibly sad that Gage would be spending Christmas on his own, even though he didn’t seem that troubled by it. I just can’t imagine it. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Addi with me and had to spend the holiday by myself. So even if he doesn’t care, I do. If I hadn’t invited him, I would have been looking out the window at his house all day — imagining him in there all alone, just acting like it’s any other day.
But the problem is, now I’m spending Christmas day with a man whose mere presence makes me feel like my skin is going to melt off my body. I’m pretty sure my core temperature raised a couple of degrees yesterday while he was in the vicinity. There’s this thing that happens to me every time his eyes lock on mine. A jolt of electricity runs through me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Even worse, the heat that grows between my legs when his eyes are on me makes me uncomfortably aware of my arousal. It’s incredibly distracting, and even worse because I’m pretty sure he knows how attractive I find him. Which sends me into this spiral of wondering whether he finds me attractive, too. Which makes me wonder whether he’s ever had the kind of thoughts about me that I have about him.
And that is just not conducive to me holding it together today and acting like this is just a nice Christmas dinner with a neighbor.
Finally, on the fifth potential outfit, I settle on a simple red sweater. It doesn’t look too overly Christmassy, and does a reasonably good job of flattering my figure. I put it on with a pair of slimming dark jeans and black ballet flats. I apply just enough makeup to hide the tired circles under my eyes, match my lipstick just a shade darker the sweater, and pull my hair up into a loose bun so I don’t get too hot while I’m cooking dinner.
I’m just emerging from my bedroom when Addi comes out of hers, holding what looks to be a friendship bracelet she’s just made with the bracelet maker she got from Santa. “Can you help me tie this on, Mom?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” Addi holds up her wrist. I wrap the bracelet around and tie the two ends in a knot.
“What time is Gage coming over?” she asks, her eyes shining with excitement.
“He said he’d show up sometime mid-afternoon.”
Addi sticks out her lower lip and pouts. “That’s forever from now. What are we going to do until then?”
“Christmas movies and your new game, of course!”
Santa always brings Addi some sort of game or puzzle for Christmas, so we can spend the afternoon as a family instead of her retreating to her room with her new toys. This year, it’s a new card game I found online. After I make the two of us cups of hot cocoa, we go into the living room and sit around the coffee table to play. I made sure the game would work fine for just two people, and we spend a good two hours learning the rules and playing the best three out of five.
I win, but not by much; Addi’s smart as a whip, and has a competitive streak that she gets from her father.
After the game, I have Addi choose a movie to watch while I do some meal prep and check on the food that’s cooking in the oven. Instead of turkey or ham, I’m preparing a roast this year. It seems to be progressing just fine, and I’m go through the mental calculations of all the other things I have to time when the doorbell rings. Looking over at the clock on the microwave, I realize it’s already almost three. That must be Gage. My stomach does a nervous flip.
“I’ll get it!” Addi cries, flying up off the couch.
She runs to the front door and slides to a stop in front of it in her stocking feet. She flings it open to reveal Gage, in a leather jacket with patches on it. He’s carrying a paper shopping bag in one arm.
“Hi, Gage! Merry Christmas!” she grins.
“Merry Christmas to you, too, kid.” He looks over at me, and his voice drops a couple of notes lower. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” I say, certain that he can hear my heart pounding loudly in my chest. “Come on in.”
Gage steps over the threshold and sets the bag down. He shrugs off his leather jacket, and looks around for a place to lay it.
“Addi, can you please hang Gage’s jacket up in the front closet?” I direct her. Obediently, she takes it from him and carefully hangs it up. Gage picks the shopping bag up and crosses through the living room into the kitchen where I’m standing.
“How’s the washing machine?” he asks as he sets the bag down on the kitchen island.
“It’s fixed,” I smile. “I ran the wet towels through last night with no problem. Thank you again.”
Gage’s eyes run slowly down my body, making me shiver. When he gets to my feet, one corner of his mouth lifts. “No monkey slippers today?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.
“Not today,” I agree, turning the same color as my sweater. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I brought my own.” He reaches into the bag and pulls out a six pack of beer. “Wasn’t sure what you’d have on hand. I’m not much of a wine guy.”
“Want to come see my room?” says Addi, appearing at Gage’s side. “You didn’t see it yesterday!”
“Uh, sure?” Gage replies, looking at me. He twists open a bottle of beer and I shrug at him.
“You’ll probably get a tour of all the presents she got from Santa this morning, too,” I warn him.
“Oh yeah!” Addi cries. I snicker at Gage’s slightly alarmed look.
“Okay, let’s go.” He looks back at me as Addi leads the way in front of him. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, call the authorities.”
6
Gage
“What’s Lords of Carnage MC?” Addi asks me as she leads me down the hall. “It said that on your jacket.”
“It’s like a club. For people who ride motorcycles.”
“Can girls join?”
“Not exactly,” I say. “There are girls around, but they’re the wives and girlfriends of the guys in the club.”
“Will you take me riding on your motorcycle?”
“Huh. Well, that would be up to your mother.”
Addi shakes her head, pursing her lips in disgust. “Rats. She’ll never let me do that.”
I have to laugh. “Yeah, I’m not surprised.”
“Here’s my room.” Addi pushes open a door at the end of the hallway to reveal a sunny bedroom done in whites and yellows. The rest of this house is a little dingy, truth be told, but this room is bright and cheerful. It’s clear that Bailey has put a lot into trying to make Addi happy here.
“Nice place.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Addi nods slowly. “My parents are divorced. My dad’s in Cabo for Christmas. That’s in Mexico. We used to go there, too, back when my mom was stil married to my dad.”
“Swanky,” I say.
Addi wrinkles her nose. “What’s that mean?”
“Ritzy.” She frowns, so I try again. “Rich. Nice.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Her face clears. “We were rich, I guess. We all lived in a big house in Pennsylvania and took lots of vacations. Now Dad lives in a penthouse apartment in the city, and we live here in Ironwood.”
More pieces of Bailey’s life start to fall together. “How do you like it here?”
Addi shrugs. “It’s okay, I guess. My mom works at the school where I go. She teaches first grade, but I’m in third. My teacher’s Miss Sampson. She’s nice, but there’s a boy in my class who’s mean. His name is Ian. He sits beh
ind me. He pulls my hair and twists my shirt and stuff when Miss Sampson’s not looking.”
“Yeah?” I look at her troubled face. “You tell Miss Sampson about that?”
“Nooo…” She looks down. “He’d call me a baby and a tattletale.”
“You tell your mom?”
Addi shrugs again. That’s clearly a no, too.
“How come?”
“She wants me to be really happy here,” Addi says simply. “She’d be sad.”
Wow. It hits me right in the feels that this kid wants to spare her mom’s feelings like that. I feel bad for this kid. It’s obvious she thinks she’s helpless to stop this little dick from bugging her. I don’t know shit about kids, but even so, I try to think what I’d have done at her age.
“This d—, I mean, this Ian kid ain’t allowed to touch you without your permission, Addi,” I tell her. “No one is. Whether they’re a little kid or an adult. Next time he does it, you can turn around and slug him if you tell him to stop and he doesn’t. Once you fight back, he’ll be so surprised he’ll probably back off.”
“But…” Addi is astonished. “You’re not supposed to hit.”
“Yeah, well you’re not supposed to pull people’s hair and twist their clothes, either. Have you told him to stop?”
“Ye-esss…”
“Has he stopped?”
“No.”
“Then you’re allowed to fight fire with fire.”
Addi’s eyes grow wide. “Really?”
“Yup.” I nod with certainty, but then I think about Bailey and have a moment’s pause. I’m not so sure how she’d feel about this advice. So I try to backtrack a little, even though I think I’m right.
“But you should probably talk to your teacher first, and tell her what’s going on,” I say to Addi. “You could do it after school or at recess, right? One on one?”
She considers this. “Yeah, I guess so. That’s a good idea.”
“Of course it’s a good idea,” I say, mock-offended. “I’m the one who came up with it.”
Dirty Santa: A Holiday MC Romance Page 3