For The Love of Easton : A Single Parent Romance and Sequel to For The Love of English

by A. M. Hargrove

“I mean, at least we’re on the same page,” he stammered out.

  “Uh, right.” That didn’t offer much of an explanation.

  “Listen, why don’t you come to our place for dinner on Saturday?”

  “Er, well, okay. Is English going to be there?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Huh?”

  “I haven’t asked her, but when I do, she’ll say yes. She always does.”

  Perhaps I should run my marriage issue by Beck. If I married English, she and Easton would be better protected than she was now. He might be pleased about that. I had a couple of days to think about it until I actually told him.

  “Okay, dinner on Saturday sounds great.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Dinner will be at seven. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Thanks so much. I look forward to it.”

  I made up my mind to talk to him. Afterward, he’d either love me or hate me. As for English, I was sure she’d despise me. Of course, I couldn’t drag her down the aisle kicking and screaming so I had to come up with a way to win her over to my way of thinking. The only way I knew how was through her daughter. It should be easy as I treasured that peanut. God help me, though, this was not going to be easy.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  English

  Mom called and invited us for dinner on Saturday. She wanted Easton to spend the night too.

  “She’ll be so excited, especially after Friday night at Banana and Geepa’s,” I said.

  “What’s going on Friday night?”

  “Tristian is taking me to dinner.”

  Dead silence.

  “Mom, you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here. This is news.”

  “Nah, not really. He asked me before the big rescue but I refused because he was such a prick.”

  “Tristian?”

  “The one and only.”

  Mom snorted.

  “Mom!”

  “I’m sorry, but that reminds me of your father. He was the biggest prick to me at first. Oh, man, I despised him.”

  “You did?”

  “You remember those stories.”

  “I knew you two went at each other for a while, but despised? No.”

  “I’ll let your father fill you in on that. Let’s just say his broody manner did nothing for me at the time.”

  “I can’t imagine Dad being broody.”

  “English, he’s the worst. When he doesn’t get his way—”

  “Oh, that. He pouts like a little kid.”

  “Exactly. But we had a time of it.”

  “How did you manage to break through all that?”

  “You.”

  “Me?” What the heck had I done?

  “Yep. You were the glue that bound us together.”

  “I’m glad I was. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you growing up.”

  “And honey, I feel exactly the same. It’s still hard to believe my precious daughter is an adult with a child of her own.”

  “I can’t believe it either.” I laughed. “Sometimes, I still think I’m that little girl.”

  “You’ll always be that to me. So, are you coming on Saturday then?”

  “You know I wouldn’t miss it. I haven’t been over in a while.”

  “That’s what your father and I were saying, so it’s the reason for the dinner.”

  “Okay, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve gotta run, Mom. I have to call about those self-defense classes I promised Dad about. See you on Saturday.”

  On the way to pick up Easton, I called several martial arts schools near us, but none of them offered classes for parents and kids together. We would have to take them separately, which I’d have to think about. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Easton taking them. I probably would take them first as a test run.

  I picked Easton up and we went home to find Stacey waiting for us. She followed the car into the garage and as I got out she ran toward me.

  “Can you believe Reed’s already dating someone?”

  It didn’t surprise me. In fact, he’d probably been seeing this person for a while. “How do you know?”

  “Social media. There are pictures of them everywhere. She works in the same office. He’s such a fucker.”

  “Who’s a fucker, Aunt Stacey Bear?” Easton asked.

  Shit, shit, shit. “Easton, forget you heard that word,” I said.

  “I heard it before.”

  “Where?” I asked, unbuckling her from her booster car seat.

  “At school. The mean boys say it all the time but I don’t know what a fucker is. Is it like a sucker?”

  “No, honey, it’s not. And please don’t ever say that. Okay?”

  “Okay. Aunt Stacey Bear, are you staying to play?”

  “I think so. Do you want me to?”

  “Yes!” She clapped her hands.

  “Easton, you can’t play until you finish your worksheet for school,” I said.

  “Aunt Stacey Bear can help. Can’t you?”

  “Sure. I love worksheets.”

  Easton jumped around like a pogo stick until we got inside. “Mommy, can I have a snack, please?”

  I fed her some apples with peanut butter and then the three of us sat at the kitchen table while she completed her worksheet. It was simple math and she finished it in fifteen minutes.

  “Can we make some pictures now? I can go get my coloring pencils.”

  I knew Stacey would want to talk to me about this situation with her ex-fiancé, so I told Easton to go up to her room and make us a special one.

  “But Mommy, I want you to help me.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but Aunt Stacey has some things to tell me.”

  “Is it about that fucker?”

  Stacey sputtered and my eyes widened. “Easton, you promised you wouldn’t say that.”

  Easton’s tiny hand covered her mouth. “Oops. I forgot. Am I in trouble?”

  “Yes, you are. Now up to your room, young lady.”

  “But, Mommy, I didn’t mean to be bad. That ‘fucker’ just slipped out.”

  “Go on. And don’t say it again.”

  She walked away with her head hanging down and it took everything in me not to laugh. When I heard her hit the top step and continue on, I nearly died.

  “Oh, God, that was too funny,” Stacey said.

  “I know, but you can’t laugh in front of her.”

  “It was hard not to.”

  “Right? So tell me the scoop.”

  Stacey went from laughing to frowning. “Yeah, that fucker is dating and if I’m right, they’ve been at it for some time. I went to her social media accounts and there were pictures of them from way before we bought the house. What I can’t figure out is why didn’t he just have the balls to tell me?”

  This got me thinking. “Stacey, could you sue him?”

  “For what?”

  “Hear me out. I know you’re the one with the law degree but you’re not thinking clearly where he’s concerned. You bought the house under the false notion that you were going to be married. This woman has pictures of them on social media from before that. He never intended to marry you, so isn’t there some legal issue here? A breaking of a contract?”

  “Technically no, because we never entered into one, as in marriage.”

  “True, but that’s a written contract. An oral contract is binding, isn’t it? He gave you a diamond ring and asked you to marry him. Perhaps you should investigate this. He’s put you in a financial bind. It’s not fair you have to shoulder that mortgage on your own.”

  A pensive look came over her. “Maybe I should discuss this with one of the partners in the firm. I really don’t want to go down that road, but if it would help me financially, it might be worth it.”

  “Great idea.”

  From the top of the stairs, a voice called out. “Is my punishment over? I did a picture for you.”

  “Come on down,” I said. Then I told
Stacey about Tristian asking me to dinner on Friday.

  “If he had asked me, I would have to wear a drool cup under my chin. That man is smoking.”

  “Who smokes?” Easton asked.

  “No one, sweetie.”

  “Look!” She handed a drawing to Stacey. It was a picture of two big people, one small one, and an animal.

  “What’s that?” Stacey asked, pointing to the animal.

  “It’s my new dog. Her name is Bucker.”

  “Your new dog?” We’d never had a dog so I was a bit puzzled.

  “Yep. Geepa said we could look at dogs on Friday. He told me about Boonior and I said I wanted one.”

  Oh, boy. She was going to hate me. “Honey, we can’t have a dog.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re gone all day. Who will take care of it?”

  She grinned. “Banana and Geepa will. They already said so. And they said they’ll train it and when it gets all A’s it can come and live here.”

  “They did, huh?” I was going to murder them both.

  “Yeah, Bucker will be a good dog.”

  “What if he eats your shoes like Boonior used to eat mine?”

  “You’ll buy me new ones.”

  Fuck. This child had an answer for everything. “I need to discuss this with Banana and Geepa.”

  “Okay, but they’ll still say yes.”

  “You’re going to Banana and Geepa’s on Friday?” Stacey asked.

  “Yep, and I get to spend the night.”

  Stacey eyed me and waggled her brows.

  I mouthed, “Stop.”

  “Mommy has a date night with Mr. Trishan. They can do kissy face. I think Mommy should marry him, don’t you, Aunt Stacey Bear?”

  I got the triple brow waggle for that.

  “Easy Bear, it depends on whether they love each other.”

  “What’s that got to do with it?”

  Oh, God, this kid.

  “He’s nice and likes her cuz she’s pretty. He don’t gotta love her too.”

  “It helps, believe me.” Stacey pulled her onto her lap. “When two people get married, if they don’t love each other, sometimes things don’t work out.”

  Easton crossed her arms. “Nope. It’ll work cuz they kissy-faced.”

  “Okay, you’re the boss.”

  That was it? Stacey wasn’t going to give her any other objection or explanation? What kind of friend was she?

  I tipped up her tiny chin. “Easton, like I told you before, Mr. Tristian may not want to get married.”

  “But if he does, he’ll marry you.”

  This was going nowhere. “I have an idea. How about we all go out for pizza?”

  Easton hopped out of Stacey’s lap and clapped. “Yay. Pizza.”

  Glancing at Stacey, I asked her if she was in and she was. We traipsed out to my car, but when we were pulling out of the driveway, a large, black limousine pulled up and blocked the way. When I saw who got out, I gasped.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tristian

  Beck and his wife had five kids, English being the oldest. All of them were away that night, except one of the twins, who was named Rey. She was a lively thing at fourteen and was all about soccer. She took Easton by the hand and we didn’t see either of them until it was time to eat.

  When I walked in the Bridgeses’ house, Beck and English were arguing about something. I assumed it was Stuart, but as I got the gist of the conversion, I realized it was the older McLure.

  “He blocked your driveway and threatened you, English.”

  “It was super creepy at first. He came up to my window, but I refused to get out of the car. Then he started spouting off stuff about Stuart that I didn’t want Easton to hear, so I got out and walked away so the little ears couldn’t listen. He didn’t threaten me, per se, but told me that I had been ridiculous in calling the police on Stuart because he’d done nothing wrong.”

  “Nothing wrong?” Beck’s voice boomed.

  “Yes, and I reminded him of the order of protection that his son had violated. Then I told him to remove himself from my driveway and to get the limousine out of the way.”

  “English, was that wise?” Beck asked.

  “Dad, he doesn’t scare me.”

  “He should. The man works for the governor, which means he’s connected to people who could hurt you.”

  “True, but he’s not above the law.”

  “Are you so sure about that?” Beck aimed a piercing gaze at English.

  English hesitated and her posture sagged. “Then what was I supposed to do? Hand Easton over to him?”

  “No! You should’ve called your attorney and the police.”

  “I did call my attorney.”

  Beck groaned. “Yes, but not until after it was over.”

  Listening to this exchange made my skin crawl and my blood boil.

  “It’s done now, so can we drop it? I can’t be worrying about this every minute of the day.”

  Sheridan cleared her throat. “Will you two stop arguing? We didn’t set up this dinner so you could fight all night.”

  Beck sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry you had to witness this, Tristian.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I worry about her too. I’m not fond of the governor and wish they could oust him from office.”

  Everyone in the room agreed. He wasn’t highly thought of in this crowd.

  “Tristian, may I get you a drink?” Sheridan asked.

  “I’ll have what everyone else is having.”

  English laughed. “That would be like PJ, since I’m drinking wine, Dad is having a beer, and Mom is drinking a fruity concoction.”

  “In that case, I’ll go with the beer.”

  Sheridan disappeared and returned with a frosty mug. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Come on in and we’ll hang out in the kitchen where I have some appetizers out.”

  We moved to that area, where there was a large island and on it was a charcuterie board. Beck helped himself, so I followed suit. Then English took a cracker and put a piece of cheese on it.

  “Mom, this cheese is fantastic.”

  “Right? I love it too.”

  The women talked about the food while Beck and I chatted about photos and lighting. It was small talk and I needed to discuss something important with him, but not here. As I thought about how to get him to another room, I heard my name.

  “Mr. Trishan!” Then Easton barreled into the back of my legs.

  “Hey, there, kiddo! What’s up?”

  “Nuthin’, ’cept Aunt Stacey Bear is mad at the fucker and I get to stay here tonight.”

  “You do?” I did my best to hide the surprised reaction at her use of the word ‘fucker.’ Everyone else was having the same issue.

  “Easton Bridges, what did I tell you about using that word?”

  “Oops. I’m not sposed to.”

  “So why did you do it then?”

  “Cuz I wanted to tell Mr. Trishan what was going on.”

  “When he asks you that, talk about school or things going on with you, not Aunt Stacey Bear.”

  “Okayyyy. Mommy, can I please have some cheese?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  Rey ran into the room. “Sorry, she escaped.”

  “Rey, my daughter isn’t in prison.” English shook her head.

  “I know, but we were playing and my phone rang. When I turned around, she was gone.”

  “She’s sneaky like that.” English handed Easton her cheese, and told her, “Don’t leave Rey again, you goofball.”

  “I’m not a goofball. I’m a princess today. See?” Easton patted her tiara.

  Rey huffed. “What am I going to do with you? You need to put on some soccer cleats so we can kick the soccer ball around in the back yard.”

  “I don’t wanna. I wanna play princess. Can you dress up like me?”

  Rey glanced at English. “I have a lot of work to do here.”

  “Go
od luck with that.”

  Rey took Easton’s hand and off they went.

  Sheridan said, “Rey will do her best to convert your daughter into a tomboy.”

  “I doubt that’ll happen. Easton is too girly right now. I wish she liked playing sports more, though.”

  “She does. She tells me how much she likes soccer. Remember though, they were never your thing.”

  “Yeah, don’t remind me, Mom.”

  While they discussed the merits of soccer versus being a princess, I took my chance at broaching what I wanted to say to Beck.

  But when I did, two things happened. The women took a break in their conversation and Beck decided to say something to me just as I was ready to ask him something.

  I nearly choked on the swallow of beer as he said, “I’d like to talk about you marrying my daughter.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  English

  Twenty-four hours earlier

  Dinner on Friday with Tristian was superb. He was engaging and congenial. I’d expected it, but was more pleased than I cared to admit. The food was exquisite but didn’t compare to the man himself. Why did I have to succumb to his charm? In many ways, it was better when he was an ass. At least it made it easy to dislike him. When he was pleasant and appealing, it was impossible to ignore him.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he’d said in the car on the way to dinner. It sent shivers skipping over my flesh and my heart did a little dance beneath my ribs. Jeez, if words did this, what would his touch do? I’d already experienced his artful kiss. I dared not imagine what the rest of his body had in store.

  “Thank you. I have a confession. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” And why in the world had my big mouth even mentioned that?

  “You must be joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I really find that hard to believe.”

  “Why’s that?” I turned my curious eyes toward him.

  “The truth?”

  “No, Tristian, I want you to lie to me.” I poked him in the ribs. “Yes, I want the truth.”

  “Because you’re beautiful and any man would give his left arm to take you out.”

  “Would you stop?”

  “I swear it’s the truth. If I weren’t driving, I’d prove it to you.”