Tempt The Hookup (Tempt Series Book 3)

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Tempt The Hookup (Tempt Series Book 3) Page 4

by Natasha Madison


  “I mean, there really is no beginning. I was standing there enjoying the day, and then we were face-to-face. I was just as shocked as he was when we were introduced,” I tell her and then look down and then up at her, wringing my fingers together. “And then Aiden came,” I say, and my heart skips a beat. “I held my breath the whole time. I thought I was going to barf on his shoes. I knew he would know Aiden was his right away.” I put my head back and close my eyes. “And he did.” Turning, I look at her again.

  “Who is it?” she asks.

  I look out the window and take a second before I tell her. “Luca.” The name comes out as more of a whisper than anything else.

  Her head goes back, and she looks out of the car with a confused look on her face, and she turns back to me. “The only Luca I know is the one who works for your fa—” She stops talking when I nod my head. “But that,” she starts to stutter, “I mean. He.” And her hands fly to her mouth. “The eyes.” She finally puts it together.

  “Yup,” I finally say, turning to look out the window. “That would be him.”

  “This is crazy,” she starts to say, and I can only agree with her. “What are the chances that he would come and work for your dad? Do you think he knew?” She turns and asks me.

  I shake my head. “There is no chance in hell he knew. His face was in utter shock, utter disbelief,” I say. Her phone rings, the sound bouncing out of the speakers, frightening both of us. The screen shows us that my father is calling.

  “Hello,” she answers.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks. “Where are you guys?”

  “Yeah, I needed gas,” my mother says, looking around. “Where are you?”

  “I just pulled up to the house. I’m going to go in the backyard and wait for you.”

  “We’ll be there soon, honey,” she says, disconnecting and turns to put her seat belt back on and pulls out of the parking lot. “This is crazy.” She looks over at me, then back at the road.

  “No, crazy is meeting him in the supermarket while I got groceries,” I tell her. “Meeting the man I had a weekend affair with at a welcome home party at my parents’ house and then to find out that he now works for my father is one step past crazy.” I exhale. “There is no word for that.”

  “I’m going to have to agree to that,” she says and continues to drive to my new house. We pull onto a street where the houses look the same. Both sides of the street have the same houses, just different colors, and then I spot my father’s Range Rover and look at the house. “This is it,” she says with a smile, and I look out at the house in awe.

  The two-story house is a light yellow with a gray roof. An awning covers the front door that has five steps in front of it and a little sitting area on the side. The windows are all big and white with a two-car garage on the side. I walk up the front path and the steps to get to the front door. I see that a sitting area is already set up on the side with two huge chairs and a round table between them. I look at the door while Mom puts the key in and opens the door. “Welcome home.” She smiles at me.

  I smile at her as I walk in and see the walls painted a light beige. Looking to my right, I see what looks like an office. Peeking in there, I see that the walls are painted white and that the windows give off great light. The desk is also white, and everything is clean and sharp. “We left the decorating up to you,” my mother says, and I just nod. “You can return any furniture you don’t want and swap it out,” she says, walking to the right which is the dining room. A long brown table for eight sits in the middle of the room. The chairs are gray and white and look like velour. Fresh pink peonies sit in the middle of the table under the chandelier. A mirror on the wall makes the room look just a touch bigger. A mirrored hutch sits against the wall with a bucket of champagne and a tray with glasses. The house was definitely staged for me. We continue to walk in, and I have a little closet right in front of the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

  My eyes open in delight when I step into the huge family room. The back wall is all windows with a view of the backyard. To the right side is the big white kitchen. A huge island with six stools separates the open room.

  The family room couch is a light gray, and it looks like at least twenty people can fit on it with lots of throw pillows all aligned. A white antique square table is in the middle with a tray and the remotes for the big ninety-inch television that hangs on top of the fireplace. “If you walk this way”—my mother goes to the door—“it leads to the backyard.”

  I walk outside with her, looking at my backyard. It’s huge and to the side is a play structure like they have in parks. Aiden is going across the monkey bars as my father stands under him just in case he slips, cheering him on. “This is so beautiful.” I look at my mom, who comes to hug me.

  “We are so happy you came home,” she says as we watch Aiden go around and around again.

  “Can we sleep here tonight?” Aiden asks when he finally sees me standing on the patio. I place the side of my hand over my eyebrows so I can see him with the sun out.

  “Sure,” I say, smiling at him. “We don’t have our clothes, though,” I tell him, and he looks just a touch disappointed.

  “I already had a couple of outfits brought in,” my mother says from beside me. Of course, she did, I think to myself. I don’t know what I would do without her.

  “Well, I guess it’s settled then.” I smile at Aiden, and he runs to high-five my father, and thirty minutes later, my parents hug us both and leave.

  “Today has been a big day.” I look down at him as we wave to my parents as they pull away from the house. “I think it’s time for a bath and then bed.”

  “I’m not even tired,” he says, trying to fight the yawn but failing. “Let’s go see our bedrooms, shall we?” I grab his hand, walking back inside. After I lock the door, we walk up the stairs and look into the room facing the stairs and see that it’s Aiden’s. The walls are painted a soft blue, and his queen-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a big A hanging on the wall above his bed.

  “This is my room, Mom,” he says in awe and walks over to the side where a white toy chest sits. On the wall just above the chest hangs every single superhero costume with the words ‘HERO UP’ and then a ledge on top of that with the figurines on the shelf.

  “That’s so cool,” he says, going to grab a costume, but I reach out to stop him before he wastes anymore time.

  “Bath time,” I say, and we walk into the next room, which is a bathroom. The white tiles on the wall give it a rustic feel, the big white sink that is built into the cabinets match. A drawer on the bottom of the cabinets is pulled out, showing you that it’s a step for him to stand on to reach the sink. I walk over to the tub and turn on the water. “Bath or shower?” I ask him, but he walks over to the towels hanging behind the door. And of course, they are superhero ones.

  “Bath,” he says while he grabs a towel and brings it to me. “And this towel.” I start filling up the tub and grab his towel while he undresses, leaving his clothes in the middle of the floor.

  “Your clothes.” I point at them, and he does a heavy sigh before walking to the pile and putting them in the basket in the corner.

  “Bubbles?” he asks, and I open the cabinets and find one with lavender. I pour a bit inside, and he climbs in as the bubbles start to grow. He plays with the water a bit, so I sit on the toilet while I watch him.

  I grab my phone and text the person who has taken over my thoughts. Luca.

  Me: I think we need to talk.

  I press send, not expecting him to answer right away, but he does.

  Luca: Name the time and place.

  I start typing and then stop for a second, not sure if I should invite him here. It’s my home, but the way he was talking, he’s going to be in Aiden’s life, so he’s going to want to see where his son lives. I turn the water off as he plays with a basket of toys that were sitting in the corner.

  Me: We just got to our new home. Aiden is going to bed i
n about an hour, so you can come by.

  The response is right away like before.

  Luca: Sure, what’s your address?

  I give him the address, and the only thing I get back is.

  Luca: I know where that is. See you in an hour.

  I try to not overthink it or get to me, but it does. Bath time goes off without a hitch, but honestly, I’m just going through the motions. We walk back into his room and open drawers until we find his pjs, which, surprise, are superheroes. Aiden decides he’s going to be Superman for the night, and once he gets dressed, he asks for his snack. We walk back downstairs for a snack, and I’m not surprised that everything is already stocked up. He grabs some cheese and crackers, and he has his first snack in the house sitting at the island on his stool. He asks for a glass of milk right before we walk back upstairs, and then he brushes his teeth. I tuck him into his bed and kiss his head, walking out of the room. “Bonne nuit, Cherie,” Good night, love, I tell him in French. I close the door, leaving it just a bit open, then go to my bedroom.

  I finally take it in, and I know my mother definitely decorated this bedroom. The room is painted a light gray color with white moldings. My headboard is a light gray material that goes halfway up the wall. The duvet is a soft pink that looks like a light satin with a throw pillow the same color as the headboard. A bench sits in front of the bed, holding a throw blanket and a robe. The side tables are all mirrored and hold vases of fresh flowers on them with small picture frames of Aiden and myself. When I walk into the room, my feet sink into the plush cream carpet. Walking to the bathroom, I look straight at the tub. “Me and you are going to be well acquainted by the end of the night.”

  I don’t have any time to think about anything else because the doorbell rings. Looking into the mirror, I know there is nothing I can do to fix my appearance, but I’m not sure I want to. As I walk downstairs, my heart is pounding, and my palms are all of a sudden sweaty. My hand turns the handle, and I swing open the door to find his back is to me. I take him in, but he hasn’t changed that much. He turns, and my stomach literally flips. Sitting in my room in Paris right after I had Aiden, I would think about Luca, and my stomach would flip. I thought it was just a memory and that I made it up, but now, standing here with him, his crooked smile showing his one dimple, I know that nothing I felt was imagined.

  “Hey,” I say. “Did you find the place okay?” I ask him, moving to the side so he can come in.

  “Yes,” he says, walking in, and I shut the door.

  “We can talk in the kitchen,” I say, walking down the hall to the kitchen area. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, whiskey?” I try to make a joke, and he just shakes his head. Instead, he pulls out a stool and sits down. He sets his hands in front of him on the island, and his finger taps it nervously. “So,” I start, my mouth going dry.

  “I think we need to start at the beginning,” he suggests.

  “That would work,” I say, nodding at him.

  “When did you find out you were pregnant?” he asks, and I look into his eyes. Again, the wrong thing to do; my brain knows he’s off-limits … my body, not so much.

  “Three weeks after I got back. I was feeling sluggish and so tired,” I tell him. “I would have to nap during the day, and then I would be in bed by eight. I didn’t know what it was.” I just remember the need to sleep. If I could have slept for a week, I think I would have. “My mother finally told me in no uncertain terms that either I go to the doctor or she would drag me there. At first, they thought I had mono.” I look down, remembering the doctor saying he was taking a pregnancy test out of precaution.

  “Was the …” He stops and then starts again. “Was everything okay with the pregnancy?”

  I nod my head. “It was perfect. Nine months with no complications at all. He was born after nine hours of labor, and he even took to the breast right away,” I say, and I swear I blush. He has obviously been very well acquainted with my breasts but saying it is a huge thing. The memory of him biting my nipple and pulling it back while I rode him comes to mind, and I close my eyes to get it to leave. I avert my eyes just in case he can see what I’m thinking about, and I wonder if he ever thinks about me or the weekend we spent together.

  “Why did you leave and go to Paris?” he asks, and I take a deep breath.

  “Well, as you can imagine, breaking the news to my parents wasn’t easy.” I walk to the fridge this time and grab two water bottles. I hand him one bottle while I open the other and take a couple of sips because my mouth still feels dry. I have to get through this, and then I never have to repeat it. “I was a college student who got pregnant on a booze cruise. It didn’t help that I had no idea who the father was, let alone how to contact him.”

  He shakes his head, looking down, his hand now holding the bottle. “This is all my fault,” he whispers.

  “It was both of us who decided no last names,” I remind him, thinking back to that first night.

  We walked up on the top deck, the wind blew my hair everywhere, so I had it tied up on top of my head.

  “Let’s lie down here,” he said to me while he pointed at the long tanning chairs.

  We grabbed two chairs side by side and lay down on our backs and looked up at the blinking stars. “Do you know anything about the stars?” he asked me.

  “Only that if you see a shooting one, you need to make a wish,” I told him, laughing. I raised my hand and pointed at the sky. “Look at that one. It’s blinking every two seconds.”

  “Where are you from?” he asked, and I turned to look at him. He turned his head to look at me also.

  “For the weekend, can we forget who we are?” I asked him.

  “That sounds like the best plan ever.” He smiled at me, and I saw that he had one little dimple. My hand itched to reach out and touch it.

  “So for the next four days, I’m just Eli,” I told him and then turned over on my side and faced him. “And you’re just Luca.”

  He turned on his side toward me. “Just Luca,” he repeated. “I like it.”

  “Good,” I said and made the first move by leaning into him.

  “Okay, so you moved away,” he says. “What made you decide to come back home?”

  “I missed my family, if I’m honest,” I tell him. “In Paris, it was just me and Aiden. I had no real support system. I had colleagues, acquaintances, but I didn’t have anyone I could depend on if Aiden was sick or I was running an errand, and it was cold outside, and I just wanted it to be in and out.” I tell him all the reasons I used to justify moving home. “We had a life there, and it was great, but I wanted to come home and have him grow up here.”

  “I want to be a part of his life,” he says, and he doesn’t stop there. “I want to be there for every decision that needs to be made, and I want to get to know him. I want to be a father to him.”

  “I won’t stop you,” I tell him.

  “When are we going to tell him?” he asks, and then his voice goes low. “Did you tell him about me?”

  “I did.” I’m honest with him. “I told him what I knew about you. The bits and pieces you told me.”

  “Did he not wonder why I wasn’t there?” he asks. “You have to know that, no matter what, I would have been there with you every single step of the way.”

  “I know,” I finally tell him. “I mean, even if we weren’t together, I know you would have been there for him.” I haven’t even asked if he is with someone. Surely, after all this time, he is with someone. He could have a wife; my son could have a stepmom. I look down, my stomach suddenly feeling like it’s burning.

  “We need to tell your father,” he says, and I just look over at him. “Tomorrow.”

  “What?” I shriek. “That is like real soon.”

  “It’s not soon enough. I want to be honest with him. I want him to know that this changes everything,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Okay, fine, we’ll tell him tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’ll come by the off
ice after we visit the school for Aiden.”

  “What time is that?” he asks, taking out his phone and then typing something in.

  “It’s at nine,” I tell him, wondering where this is going.

  “Okay, I’ll make it work,” he says. “Do you want to meet there or go together?”

  “Wait,” I say. “You want to come to the school with us?”

  He gets off his stool and pushes it in. “If it has to do with my son, I want to be involved.”

  “Fine,” I say. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

  “Well, it is. I have six years of catching up to do,” he tells me, and I just nod. I don’t know how I would go six minutes without him, let alone six years.

  “It’s been a crazy day,” I tell him, and he just nods at me. When he puts his hands in his pockets, I see that his chest is bigger than it was, more filled out. His hair is also a touch longer on the top and falls onto his forehead.

  He exhales. “I need to take everything in. There are a lot of changes that are going to happen,” he says and turns to walk out of the room. I follow him to the front door. “Do you want me to meet you at the school or would you like to go together?” he asks, turning and opening the door, looking back at me.

  “It’s silly for you to come all the way out here. I think it’s easier if you just meet us there,” I tell him while he walks down the steps and then turns around and smiles at me.

  “It’s not out of my way,” he says. I can see him almost smirking, and the little dimple starts to come out. “I live next door.” He motions with his head and then walks across the grass and then turns. “See you later, Eli.”

  “Fuck me,” is the only thing I can think to say.

  Chapter Five

  Luca

  The minute I said the words, I saw her face go into shock. “It’s not out of my way. I live next door.” I walk across the lawn and then look back. “See you later, Eli.”

  “Fuck me,” she mumbles, and then she comes out of the door and walks down the steps. God, she still makes my heart skip a beat with her beauty. She was breathtaking six years ago. Now, she’s even better, and I didn’t think that could actually happen. Her eyes go just a touch darker from her anger.

 

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