by Quinn, Cari
Michael slid an arm around her hip and hauled them both into his chest. “For once, just take care of your family and let me figure out the details. The bonus? I get to be your family now too.”
She hooked her arm around his neck and dragged him down for a kiss. How the hell else was she supposed to say thank you? There were no words for the emotions pinging around in her chest. Her heart was beating hummingbird-fast.
Just like it always seemed to do around this man.
Michael smiled into the kiss, then impulsively smushed one into her son’s cheek. “Take care of your mama for me?”
“Mama,” Axl said. He clunked his big head against her collarbone.
“Ouch, careful.” Michael stroked the back of his knuckles down her face. “Do easy.”
Her eyes pricked. How many times had she said “do easy” to Axl, just like her dad had said to her as a kid?
Axl patted her face. “Easy.”
“There you go.” Michael grinned down at her. “I’ll see you guys tonight. I won’t be late.”
“Okay.”
He backed up toward his car. “No working, just ordering your minions.”
She laughed. “You really don’t want me to get used to having minions.”
“You’re a queen. Of course, you should get used to it.” He rounded the hood of his car and got in with a wave.
“You’re a queen,” Lori said from the porch.
“I hate you,” she called back. She sighed and looked at Axl. “Want to go to the boardwalk?”
“Rides!”
She hugged him close and headed up to Lori’s door. “Rides it is.”
Twenty-Five
Chloe had lived with a man before. Sort of.
Snake had needed a lot of alone time to figure out lyrics or…well, she didn’t really want to think about just what kind of other things he’d been doing when he wasn’t with her. There had been a lot of passing each other in the night.
Most of the time it was because she was working so much. She’d paid for much of the utilities as well as the apartment they’d lived in. Snake was always bouncing between manic highs where he was jamming with friends, and lows where she wasn’t sure he would come home. And often didn’t for days at a time. More than a few sessions in rehab hadn’t helped matters on that end.
The good days, he’d been attentive and romantic. Forever spinning stories about what their life would be like when he made it.
Needless to say, that hadn’t allowed him to keep a job for very long.
Living with Michael Shawcross was very different. For two weeks, she’d been certain she was going to kill him. Not because he snored—he did, but only when he was really tired. After rather brutal practice sessions with his band, or a stressful show, those were a few of his darker moments.
But a dark moment for Michael was a grunt when he came in the door, followed by a long, thorough kiss. He’d sigh, say her name in his dreamy grumble. Dreamy was her word. He’d die if she ever said that to his face. Then he’d take a shower and her Michael would be back.
Grins and silly noises for Axl as he sprawled on the floor to play with him before bedtime. Long, leisurely conversations on the balcony for her. He never ran out of words. Some in the flowery Michael-speak she was getting used to. More so of the dirty variety that she secretly loved.
Nights were often spent naked. At least on Michael’s end. The man just didn’t like clothes. Considering he was approximately the body temperature of a furnace—she knew this because she barely needed a blanket at night—she could see why.
The killing part came from the boy side of his nature. Her two-year-old was better at picking up after himself than Michael was.
She picked up a bowl from beside the couch, then found another on the bookcase, and a glass on the floor next to Axl’s toy box.
She shook her head as she found two more cups on her way into the kitchen.
Axl came careening through the living room, his arms out like a plane. The plus side of that? His balance was a lot better. The minus? She had to chase after him and make sure he didn’t take out all of the man-child toys Michael didn’t put away.
Guitars, stands, a mini amplifier that Axl thought was an awesome rock to climb—none of it was cheap Ikea or Target end tables like she had at her apartment. It felt like everything in Michael’s place was from a catalog. And an expensive one at that.
She scooped Axl up before he ran headlong into the tower of gaming consoles. “Okay, buddy. No more plane, huh?”
His face scrunched up as he arched away from her. “No.”
“Let’s go play with your Legos.”
“Chopter.”
She dumped the dishes in the dishwasher with a wriggling Axl over her shoulder. Then she tried to do the same soaring over the head angle that Michael could do. Unfortunately, Axl was twenty-five pounds as of his last check up, and she was pretty sure he was more toward thirty. He’d sprout up again soon. He always chunked up a bit before zooming up.
Which would mean new clothes again.
Nope, don’t think about that right now.
She hooked her arm around his middle and spun around once. Axl shrieked. Yeah, she definitely wasn’t as good at that as Michael. Hmm. She eyed the yoga mat she’d picked up at Target that morning.
She’d read an article about babies and the positive effects of yoga. She read a lot of damn articles these days. She really wasn’t used to having extra time on her hands.
Chloe put him down in the largest area of the living room. The tears kept coming, fat and flowing. Great. She ran for the bag with the mat and video in it. “Want to play with Mama?”
He tipped his head to the side. “Chopter.”
She pulled out the smaller kid’s mat and then hers. “Let’s try something.”
He shoved his hand into his mouth and landed on his butt.
“All right, that’s a yes in my book.” She scooped him up and ran with him into Michael’s bedroom. When he laughed, she tossed him into the middle of the bed. He bounced and the crocodile tears disappeared into giggles.
She wiggled out of her jeans and shirt, and swapped them for the workout clothes she’d ordered last weekend. Amazon Prime was the single best thing on the planet.
Axl clapped his hands when she put on the yoga pants. They had planes all over them. “Like these?”
“Chopter!”
“Plane.”
“Chopter.” He said it with so much glee that she couldn’t stop laughing. “Let’s go do some exercise. How’s that?” She swung him onto her hip and danced her way into the living room. She plucked the video out of the bag. “Mommy and Me Yoga,” she read aloud from the cover.
“Mama.”
“Right. Mama and me?” she prompted.
“Me,” he parroted.
“You got it. Now, how did we do this again?” Michael had about eight plugs set up for the television. She didn’t know a television could have that many cables. Then again, he had a surround sound system that required an engineering degree to use.
She slid the disk in and hoped for the best.
“Miracle of automation.” The DVD player switched the system to the right channel or whatever. An unnaturally bubbly voice came through the television. “We might have to kill her, but we’ll give it a try.”
She got on the floor and set Axl next to her. “Watch.”
His huge dark eyes soaked up the colors of the women on the screen. He started clapping when the music started. After an initial warm up, she ended up in a few poses that she and Axl both giggled through.
She really wasn’t aware that she could bend like that. And she might have lost her balance midway through some stork position, but Axl was having a good time. And freaking hell, she was sweating her ass off. When they got to floor positions, her kid was in heaven as she used her feet to hoist him up over her.
See? Now she could do the chopter, dammit.
She didn’t need Michael.
The door opened when she was in the middle of lowering him close to her chest and going for another rep.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
Axl shrieked and his arms went out for Michael immediately. Michael lifted him off her knees and started zooming him around the room. Chloe’s feet dropped to the mat and she collapsed spread-eagle-style. Yoga wasn’t for wimps, man. She was dripping.
Michael set Axl down a few minutes later, getting down on the floor to tickle him into howls of laughter. Then he crawled over to her. “Mama Bear is sexy.”
“I’m sweaty and gross.”
He caged her on the floor. “Hot.”
She pushed at his chest. “Get off, sicko.”
Michael inched back before he lowered his mouth to her belly. “Salty and delicious.” He roamed over to her side and nipped at the little bit of flesh showing above her yoga pants. He peered at the television, and his eyebrows rose. “Yoga, huh?”
“I used to be pretty flexible.”
“Any more flexible and I’ll have a heart attack.” He inched her flowy shirt up and kissed her ribs, then moved back over to her middle.
“Razzies,” Axl said and crawled over to them.
Michael grinned at Axl. “Raspberries?”
“Razzies,” he said again.
Michael blew raspberries on her stomach until she curled into herself to stop him.
“No, no,” she said, giggling.
“Oh, Mama’s ticklish.” Michael held her down and pulled Axl into the mix until there was nothing but laughter filling the room. A helluva lot better than tears.
“Uncle,” she said with a gasp.
Michael flopped onto the floor next to her, as out of breath as she was.
Axl giggled and climbed between them. He patted her stomach. “Hungy.”
“Me too, pal.” Michael grinned over Axl’s head at her. “Hiya, wife.”
“You’re home early.”
“Juliet tried to bean West with her bass. We decided it was probably better to call it a day than to keep practicing today.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He shrugged. “Everyone’s just getting tense about the upcoming shows. Ryan’s hand isn’t healing as quickly as we’d hoped. Beating on drums certainly isn’t helping it along.”
She reached over to push a lock of hair away from his forehead. “What happened with that studio guy? What was his name?” There’d been a couple over the last few weeks. None of them seemed to gel with the band.
“Toby. He wasn’t a bad player, but he couldn’t handle our jam style.” Michael sat up. “We throw all sorts of covers in with our songs.”
Chloe rolled up to a crosslegged position and plopped Axl between her legs. “I saw a YouTube the other night. I liked ‘My Own Worst Enemy’ with ‘Lick.’” Axl played with her fingers, dragging her thumb into his mouth.
“Yeah? Ryan loves Lit.”
“Me too. Listened to them a lot when I was in high school.”
He grinned. “Looking for my songs, woman?”
“Maybe.”
“Good. I like that you’re interested.” Michael leaned in, hovered at her mouth, then made a quick turn to Axl’s neck. He lifted Axl up and stood. “I require pizza to go with my news.”
News? She arched a brow. “I require a shower.”
“Then hop to it, Red.” He held his hand out to her, then hauled her up. “You have two hungry men on your hands.” Michael bounced Axl on his hip. “How about an episode of Phineas and Ferb while Mom gets ready?”
“Yeah!” Axl raised his drool-covered hand.
A real shower? She might weep. “That would be awesome.”
Michael grinned. “Don’t take too long. I’ll take the squirt in with me for a shower.”
“Man, the royal treatment all around.”
They’d worked around the tub issue by making it a game with the handheld shower sprayer and lots of toys. She was pretty sure that the designer hadn’t had a seascape of wall clings in mind when they’d put in the marble tile, but it was pretty awesome anyway.
She walked through the baby-fied living room full of new tables with rounded corners, instead of the endless glass Michael had owned before they’d taken over his life. Their—his—bedroom hadn’t fared much better. The huge Queen Anne furniture survived, but the dresser was now cluttered with her perfumes and lotions.
Instead of complaining about it, Michael kept buying her more. Including quite a few different oils. She swiped the cinnamon after-shower oil off the tray, and brought it with her into the shower. If he had news, then she wanted to make sure she primped a little.
Just in case, of course.
Twenty minutes later, she was shaved, buffed, and squeaky clean. She wasn’t in the mood to do her hair so she tied it up in her usual tail. The boys came in as she was buttoning her shirt.
Michael whistled. “Well, hello there.”
She sat at her shabby chic vanity. Michael still didn’t understand her need to buy and repurpose, but he’d stopped giving her grief about it. There was no way she was spending a grand on a vanity that she sat at for approximately five minutes each day.
Not to mention she had so much time on her hands. She didn’t know what to do with it all, so she kept doing home stuff.
Michael hung Axl upside down as he crossed to the bathroom. “You stink, pal.”
Axl giggled. “Xersize.”
She dabbed on some light makeup, and listened with half an ear as her guys splashed around in the shower. Michael’s deeper voice was layered with Axl’s excitable one. When she was done, she grabbed towels, Pull-Ups for Axl, and underwear for both of them. She set the pile on the counter, then used her time to tidy up their bedroom.
She unplugged her phone and tucked it into her jeans pocket. “So, what’s this news? Worthy of a pepperoni pizza? Or the works?”
“You know me so well.”
She grinned. She was beginning to.
“Brush your teeth. Minty fresh breath gets extra kisses from your mom.”
Chloe grinned and moved to the doorway. Both of them stood in matching blue boxer briefs. Michael’s hair was already fixed into his messy fauxhawk, and Axl had his hair styled the same. They were both brushing their teeth in sync.
She pulled her phone out before she thought about it and clicked a photo.
She looked down at her phone. They looked so much like father and son right then. She stuffed her phone back in her pocket and shook off the rush of emotions.
Temporary, Chloe.
But they definitely didn’t feel very temporary in that picture. Or in the last few weeks. She rested her cheek against her hand on the doorjamb. “Spill the news.”
Michael looked over his shoulder with his toothbrush stuck in his cheek. He grinned around it, and the look he gave her was decidedly not fatherly. It might make a baby though.
Axl’s laughter bounced around the room, breaking the moment.
“We got nominated for a Spectrum award.”
She had a vague idea that it was a big deal, but there were so many different award shows that she was a little clueless. But the huge grin on his face told her it was important, and that was all that mattered to her.
She rushed in and pulled him down for a kiss. “That’s amazing.”
He looped his arms around her. “Yeah. For Best New Artist. We were celebrating about it at practice before all hell broke loose.”
“You’d think that kind of excitement would keep everyone in a good mood for at least twenty-four hours.”
He sighed and kissed her again. He was right—minty fresh breath was pretty kiss-worthy. “Now, we’re even more worried about a drummer. They want us to play during the televised portion of the show.”
“That’s even better.” She punctuated the congratulations with another kiss.
“It should be.”
She threaded her fingers through his chest hair. “When’s the show?”
“March, thankfully. So, we ha
ve some time.”
“Imma mint too.”
Michael grinned down at their Axl interruption. “Is that right?” Axl gripped his wrist and Michael made a growling noise as he hoisted him up slowly. “So heavy.” He made a production of it then tucked Axl between them.
“Big boy,” Axl said.
“You sure are.” She leaned down and gave Axl a smacking kiss. “Minty fresh.”
“Yeah, fresh.”
Michael hugged the two of them tighter. “Now, let’s go ruin it with garlic.”
Chloe laughed. “Sounds like a very good plan.”
* * *
She found him on the balcony later that night. It had been a fun evening. Axl was completely passed out in his room, with his arm clutching the Hank plush octopus that Michael had won for him at the arcade. The long ride out to the pier gave them the perfect lullaby ride back home.
Michael still had his Viper, but took to driving her Jeep more and more. Then again, most of their outings included Axl, so it was kind of a necessity.
She curled her arms around Michael’s waist and pressed her cheek to his bare back. The ocean breeze was a little brisk, but February was right around the corner. There were a scant few months of cool weather in California, and she usually had to sneak down to the pier to get a taste of winter ocean air.
Now, it was literally her backyard.
“Everything okay?”
He curled his fingers tighter over the curve of the railing. Tension radiated off of him. “My fucking brother is still MIA. Lila has been bugging me daily to see if I’ve talked to him.”
She sighed, pressing a kiss to the dip of his spine. The topic of Mal was one of the many refrains in their evening conversations. “You don’t think he changed his phone number, do you?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.”
She slid a trail of kisses along his biceps and ducked under his arm. “What are you guys going to do if you can’t get Mal to join?” She swirled her tongue around his nipple.