by S. M. Shade
Next time? “You still want me to go to the carnival with you?”
He sighs. “You promised me the carnival, but that’s not the next time I have in mind.”
“Mason, I’m sorry if I upset you by leaving, and I’ll go to the waterpark and carnival, but I’m really not looking for anything else right now.”
“It’s when you aren’t looking that you find what’s missing, Panda. I’ll call you later. Have a good day.”
He hangs up before I can reply, leaving me thoroughly confused and frustrated.
Chapter Four
“So what do you think he wants?” I ask Ian as he steals a french fry from my plate.
“You,” he replies simply.
“You aren’t helping.”
“Ev, the guy is obviously trying like hell to spend time with you. He took you on a fantastic date, fucked your brains out, then got upset when you snuck out. He’s way into you. Most girls would be planning the wedding.”
He grins when I roll my eyes at him. “And I’m so like most girls.”
“You want my advice? Quit analyzing it to death. A hot guy wants you and you’re looking for the catch. You’re the catch, girl, a great one. Give the guy a chance and have some fun.” Ian tips a wink at the pretty red headed waitress who refills our drinks, and she smiles at him.
“Remind me why I’m taking dating advice from you,” I scoff, taking his glass and drinking the last of his Coke.
“Because I have so much experience.”
A couple walks past us, arms linked around one another, staring at each other like they’re the only people in the world. The stab of jealousy I feel is quickly followed by pity for them. They’re so wrapped up in each other now, so happy, but eventually it’ll come back to bite them.
“If the woman you took home left after you fell asleep, how would you feel?”
His dark eyes meet mine, his smile reluctant. “Relieved.”
“See, that’s what I was going for.”
“So you’re looking for a guy like me? Who takes a different girl home every week?”
“I’m not looking for a guy at all. But Mason doesn’t seem to hear the word No, and when we’re face to face, I have a hard time turning him down.”
The perky waitress returns to check on us. If she bats her eyelashes any faster she’s going to take flight. “Can I get you anything else?”
“A slice of apple pie, please, alamode,” I order, falling back on my belief that junk food cures anything.
“Can I get you anything?” Ms. Perky asks Ian.
He hands her his cell phone. “Would you fix this for me? There’s something wrong with it.”
A confused look creases her face as she looks at his phone. “Doesn’t look broken.”
“It’s missing your number, which makes it totally useless to me. I may as well throw it away.” Ian kicks me under the table when I shake my head, trying to not to laugh.
With a blush and a giggle, she enters her name and number in his contacts, smiling from ear to ear. When she walks away to retrieve my pie, Ian returns to our conversation without missing a beat. “Look, Ev, you’re scared. After what happened with Sean, I get it. You’ve dated plenty of guys since him, but this is the first time you’ve talked about someone like this. You like him.”
I flop back in my chair. “He got in my head.”
Ian snatches my fork and steals the first warm bite of pie when it’s placed in front of me. “He got in more than that.” He laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “Can he fuck?”
“Like a champ.”
“So, he’s gorgeous, well off, good in bed, and totally into you. I’m so sorry you have to suffer the indignity of being pursued by such a guy.”
“Well, now I just sound like a bitch.”
His eyes soften, and he reaches to squeeze my hand. “No, Ev. You’ve been screwed over too many times by too many people. You’re scared because you like him and you don’t want to get hurt again. We screw up our relationships in different ways, but underneath our reasons are the same.”
No one understands better than Ian the damage done by a childhood in the system. Having countless people claim to care for you, even love you, until you make a mistake. Then it’s on to the next one, never knowing where you’ll end up, only that you’ll be alone. Everything is temporary and out of our control.
“I just don’t want you to run away from every chance at happiness,” Ian adds.
Nodding, I take a drink of my lemonade to wash down the lump in my throat. “I want the same for you.”
“If I meet someone half as good as you, I’ll give her a chance.” His mischievous smile makes me grin. “Until then, I’m going to nail this waitress who keeps picturing me naked.”
“Who said romance is dead?” I laugh.
“It’s no date to bottle feed a panda, but she’ll enjoy it,” he teases, leaning to hug me. He drops a twenty on the table. “Be good, pup. Love ya.”
“Love ya.”
Thankfully, the next week is uneventful compared to the hectic one before. Mason and I text each other a few times, and I have to admit, I like the back and forth. My phone wakes me early Friday morning, and Danny chuckles at my mumbled hello.
“Ev? I’m sorry to wake you, but we have a situation here today. Monica has a family emergency and Stacy can’t come in until three. Can you please help us out?”
“Be there in an hour.”
“You’re the best.”
“I’m aware. You better have coffee.”
At least I’m able to beat the rush hour traffic. I arrive at Building Tomorrow’s Child just as the older kids are leaving for school. “Thank God for you, Ev. Ally is home with a cold. She’s asleep in her room, but we need to watch her fever. We also have a new boy who arrived last night, and he needs some one on one time, which is hard to do with two wild four year olds running around.” He eyes the twins who are fighting over an action figure.
“I’ll keep an eye on Ally and hang out with the new boy.”
“His name is Matthew and he’s pretty upset. His parents were busted growing a few pot plants. They took him straight out of his bed yesterday morning. On his eighth birthday, no less.”
“Poor kid. I’ll talk to him.” The ridiculous pot laws in our state separate more children from their parents than actual abuse. While other states are decriminalizing marijuana, or at least reducing the penalty to a fine, Indiana has clamped down.
Offenders who are caught growing can get a year in prison for each plant. They’re charged with intent to distribute, whether or not they’re actually selling it. I’ve seen some get more time than child molesters, rapists, and murderers. Where’s the justice in that?
While Danny takes the twins out to play, I settle on the small sofa beside Matthew. He’s curled up against the arm, staring blankly at a commercial on television. “Can I watch with you?” I’m rewarded with a small nod. “My name is Everly, but everyone calls me Ev. Should I call you Matthew, or do you like Matt better?”
“Matty,” he whispers.
“I’m happy to meet you, Matty. I’m sorry to see you so sad, though. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Drug dealers are bad people,” he says, turning to regard me with a miserable look. “My teacher said so.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Matty. Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn’t mean they’re bad.”
“My mommy and daddy aren’t bad. I wanna go home,” he wails, and I pull him into my lap, rocking him and letting him cry. Sometimes, it’s all you can do. These kids break my heart in a thousand different ways.
“I’ll never see them again.”
I turn him to face me. Pale green eyes gaze into mine, pleading for me to make it all better. “Listen to me, Matty. You’ll see your mom and dad again. I know this is scary and you feel like you’re all alone, but it’ll get better. You aren’t alone.”
“When can I go home?”
“I don’t know, honey. It isn’t up to me. A
judge has to say it’s okay first. Until that happens, Danny, Monica, and the other counselors will take good care of you. If you’re hurt or scared, or just bored, you can go to them.”
He scoots off my lap and scrubs the tears off his cheek. “What about you?”
“I’m not here every day, but we’ll be able to hang out if you want. Danny said you didn’t eat dinner or breakfast. Are you hungry?” He shrugs, staring at the carpet. “Do you like pancakes?”
“Mommy makes them on Saturday mornings.”
“I’ll bet your mom’s a good cook.”
A tiny smile cracks through the despair. “She is. She was going to make me a birthday cake, but…” His lip trembles.
“I’m sure your mom will make you the best cake ever when you get home. I know it won’t be the same as your mom’s, but I make a pretty good cake, especially if I have some help.” I grin at him, and his smile widens.
“Can we?”
“After we have some breakfast, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Danny brings the twins in for lunch, Matty is sitting at the counter with chocolate batter smeared across his mouth as he licks the beater. “Something smells good,” Danny remarks.
“Birthday cake!” Matty exclaims.
“Awesome. Do I get a piece?”
“Sure.” Matty grins up at him. “Hope you like it crunchy.”
Danny’s confused expression makes me laugh. “We may have lost a chunk of eggshell in the mix.”
Danny ruffles Matty’s hair and says, “I like crunchy. How about you go wash your hands and face before lunch?”
“Okay.” Matty hops off the stool and follows the twins to the restroom.
“Ev, you’re a lifesaver. He needed you.”
“He just needed someone to talk to.”
Danny moves beside me as I’m washing the dishes. He’s so close his hip is touching mine. “No, he needed you. You have a way with these kids. You should become a counselor.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I enjoy working with my other charity as well. I couldn’t give either of them up.” His warm hands fall on my shoulders, rubbing. “Danny, we’ve talked about this,” I warn, drying my hands on a dishtowel.
He grabs my arms as I turn around. “Go out with me Friday night.”
“No, I told you, I’m not looking for…” My words are interrupted when his lips land on mine. Have you ever kissed your own hand? Yeah, that’s pretty much what it felt like. Just blah, nothing. I step away from him seconds before the kids charge back into the room.
With a satisfied grin I’d like to remove with a ball of steel wool, he turns to face the fridge. “I’ll make lunch.”
My phone buzzes with a new text as I return to the living room with the kids. After finding a rerun of Spongebob they all agree on, I’m able to slip away a moment.
-What are you making me for dinner tonight?-
I can’t help but smile at the sight of Mason’s name. The way he kissed me sure wasn’t blah. I swear I can still taste him, and just the thought sends tingles racing across my skin.
-Sorry, sir, you must have the wrong number.-
-So this isn’t my beautiful brunette spitfire who lives to be difficult?-
His beautiful brunette? Maybe he really does have the wrong number.
-Nope, sorry, no one like that here. Just a run of the mill woman with a top notch bullshit detector.-
-I like Italian. Seven o’clock okay?-
Goddamn it, here we go again. Despite his caveman antics, I realize I’m dying to see him again. We have a few weeks until the carnival, maybe I can just see him until then, get him out of my system, and then we can end it. Keep in mind it’s temporary, and nobody gets hurt or used. Well, I suppose technically we’re using each other, but I can live with that. He’s spectacular in bed.
-I suppose I can make a lasagna.-
-Wow, you gave in so easy. Are you day drinking?-
-Did you just call me easy? Not drinking yet, but I’m sure I’ll need a bottle to get through the evening.-
-You’re the opposite of easy.-
-Hard?-
-Yes, I am, thinking about your legs wrapped around my neck.-
Christ, I love his dirty talk.
-I believe we agreed on lasagna.-
-I’m having you for dessert. See you at seven, Panda.-
I hope I’m not making a mistake. Ian’s advice flows through my mind. Relax, have fun. Mason is definitely fun. In bed and out. His insistent pestering is annoying, but I admit I’m flattered. He can have his choice of women, but he’s annoying me.
Danny calls the kids for lunch and after getting them settled, approaches me in the living room. “Ev…”
I hold up my palm, interrupting him. “That can’t happen again.”
“I didn’t mean to do that here, you know, where the kids might see.”
“It can’t happen anywhere. I’m…seeing someone,” I mumble. Mason and I are nowhere near exclusive, but I’m sure going to use him to my advantage now.
“Really?” He looks doubtful, which just pisses me off. Like I owe him an explanation.
“Yes, really.”
“What’s his name?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s Mason Reed.”
If his jaw drops any farther, he’ll trip over it. “Mason Reed, the fighter?”
“He doesn’t fight anymore. He teaches MMA.”
“You’re dating the former middleweight champion?” His eyes darken and he scrubs his palm across his cheek. “Shit. Don’t tell him I kissed you.”
My laugh comes out as a snort. “No worries there. I’m going to frost Matty’s cake and then head out.”
He nods and leaves me to it. I’m on my way home when I get a text from him.
-Matty’s disappointed you won’t be here when we sing happy birthday and cut the cake.-
Shit. I should be there. I’ll just have to make it a late dinner with Mason.
-What time?-
-Seven-
-I’ll be there.-
I decide not to be chickenshit and call Mason instead of texting. He picks up on the second ring. “Hi, Evie.” Oh, his voice does terrible things to me.
“Hey, listen, I’m sorry, but I have to be at BTC for a last minute birthday party tonight.”
“Are you trying to ditch me? I’m catching a pattern here.”
“No! We could meet later tonight, if you want.”
“Are you turning this into a booty call?” I can hear the amusement in his voice as he teases me.
“I’m sorry, are you too sophisticated for such behavior?”
“Not normally, but I was really looking forward to that lasagna. I’ll take you to the birthday party and then we’ll have dinner before I show you my qualifications rank me far above booty call material, love. What time should I pick you up?”
I nearly drop the phone at his suggestion. “You want to go to an eight year old’s birthday party?”
“I want to spend time with you. Wherever.” His tone is serious. My brain is screaming at me to put an end to this right now. He’s either trying to play me, or he’s looking for more, which he won’t find with me. Either way, the result won’t be pretty, but for some reason, I can’t disappoint him. I’ve thought about him all day, and I really want to see him tonight.
“Six-thirty,” I reply.
“See you then, Evie.” Panda, Evie, Love. The man is incapable of calling me by my name. I hate how much I like it.
There’s a knock on my door at six-thirty sharp and I’m greeted by a smile that could make a nun tear off her clothes. He’s dressed in loose jeans and a long sleeved button up. For half a second, I consider dragging his luscious ass to the bedroom, but I can’t disappoint a kid.
“You look beautiful,” he says, taking my hand after I usher him out, locking the door behind me.
“A vision in jeans,” I reply, giving him a look. I really wish he’d quit with the bullshit lines. I’
m not ugly, but I’m nowhere near beautiful. Before we can make it to the elevator, I find myself pinned against the hallway wall. His hand grips my hip as his other reaches to tilt my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“I don’t like being called a liar, Evie. You can be assured I mean every word I say,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re stunning. I can barely keep my hands off you.” Warm sweet breath wafts across my neck. When he pulls back, his gaze falls to my lips, making me lick them. God, I want to feel his full lips on mine again. The corners of his mouth twitch in amusement. “Is there something you want, Evie?”
Ugh. Arrogant prick. If he thinks I’m asking him to kiss me, he’s a few fries short of a Happy Meal. “To be on time.” I’m relieved to hear my response come out smooth and strong, even though I feel like a trembling mess. It’s ridiculous. He barely touched me. Just the thought of his kiss shattered my brain and set my heart racing.
“Have it your way, love.” If I had it my way he’d be naked with my knees on his shoulders. He takes my hand as we wait for the elevator.
When the doors open, Ian grins at me and steps into the hall. “Ev, hey. I was just dropping by to say hi. I guess you’re on your way out?” Oh, the lying little bastard. He just had to check out Mason.
Mason instantly drops my hand and slides his arm possessively around my shoulders. “You want to introduce me, sweetheart?” Sweetheart?!
“Uh…yeah, Mason, this is Ian, my uh…foster brother.” Shit. Now I’m going to have to go through the whole ‘grew up in foster care’ story. “Ian, this is Mason.”
“Her date,” he clarifies. Great, is he going to piss on my leg?
“Nice to meet you,” Ian replies, voice thick with amusement. We all step into the elevator and Mason keeps his arms around me, tucking me against his side. He smells fantastic.
“Don’t you have a date tonight?” I ask Ian.
“Nah, but tomorrow I have two. Guess I’d better pick, huh? I have to reschedule one. The blond is super hot with tits till Tuesday, but the redhead’s more fun. What do you think, Ev?”
“I think you’re a pig and you should cancel both of them.”