by Allie York
I went to sleep the same way I had every night for four months—alone, and pissed.
The window on the wooden door gave me a clear view of the other parents in the room. Well, it wasn’t parents, it was moms. Six, to be exact. There were at least twenty folding chairs, but the group was very segregated. On one end was a group of five women all looking like they just came from doing yoga or some shit. The other end was a single woman with her brown hair in a ponytail, wearing all black. Her arms and legs were both crossed, but not defensively. Even from behind, she was hot as hell. While the other women were engrossed in conversation, the one in black watched the girls through the glass intently. From the diversity in the room, it was clear who the little girl in the black outfit belonged to. Through the glass, I watched the six little girls stretch and giggle— five in pink, one in black. I watched a second longer, suddenly realizing I would be trapped in a room with those women for half an hour.
I owned my appearance. I knew years ago the ink would get me stares, but the thought of Celia being judged by my appearance was sickening. Truth be told, I looked like a badass motherfucker, not a dad at dance class. I was doing the damn dance class for her and was going to have to defend my parenting from day one by the looks of things. With one more scan of the room, I pulled the door open, shoving down my fear of six women I didn’t know.
Chapter Three
Cori
My little gothic princess bounced into the group of five other girls like she owned the place, probably because she thought she did. Ax was under the impression that she owned everything. Her black outfit stuck out in the pale pink group, but she rose to the occasion, rocking her unconventional leotard. I took my seat in the folding chair furthest from the judgmental faces at the other end. I had as much right to be there as they did, but their cold shoulder made it very clear I was not one of them. I was about a decade younger for one, but I was also not quite the suburban desperate housewife type. I watched from behind the one-way glass, just like they did, but they were all chatty and whispering where I was quiet, alone. It wasn’t the alone part bothering me, or them talking about me without trying to hide it. It was all of them acting like my daughter had less of a right to be there than theirs did. I ignored them, smiling to myself as my little rebel turned her attentive face to Miss Beniot, the instructor. She may have had a black leotard with matching nails, but my girl had more talent than their spoiled little terrors. It ate them up, but I loved it.
Just as Miss Beniot, aka Charli, started class, a seventh girl walked in slowly, timidly. She was new and so adorable. Her dark cloud of curls framed her face and her black almond eyes were brimming with excitement, but also fear. The fear it faded when Ax walked straight up to her to give her a hug. The new girl hugged her back then let my munchkin pull her over to the barre. My daughter had my rebellious streak but was the kindest child you would ever meet. I couldn’t have been prouder. Then the door behind us opened to reveal something even more unexpected.
The man was tall, broad, with a tight black shirt. Herculean arm muscles were covered wrist to sleeve with tattoos. His dark wash jeans were just tight enough and slung low on his hips. Then I got to his face. A scruffy five o’clock shadow covered his chiseled jaw and his dark hair contrasted the pale blue of his irises. Holy hell. Tall, ripped, and sexy looked from the cluster of yoga pants and screw-me stares, down the empty expanse of chairs to me, smirking. His eyes moved to the glass where Charli was pointing at us, undoubtedly telling the girl Daddy was in there, then she led the girl to the barre. My munchkin immediately showed the new classmate how to stretch, hugging her again first. While I was watching the kids, he settled himself down next to me, slouching in the seat. The sexy beast his legs out until his biker boots touched the wall in front of us. Every mouth in the room was watering, even mine, but when his smell invaded me, I shifted in my seat. It was clean, masculine, and sexy; like the guy needed help with being sexy. Am I dreaming?
Class started, and I trained my gaze on the glass, not even risking a peek at the absolutely delicious man next to me. He oozed dominance and sexual energy, but I was doing a damn good job of ignoring him. Until he spoke.
“They fit an awful lot of pious in one dance studio.”
His voice was like a rumble of distant thunder, warning of oncoming storm. I stopped breathing for a second. What is wrong with me?
I slid my eyes to him in time to see him tip his head discreetly at the five women across the room and nodded. “Stick around, it only gets better,” I whispered, smiling and biting my lip.
“I paid for six months, so I’m sure I’ll learn all about it.” Then he stuck his hand out. “Griffin Steele.” Even his hands were tattooed. Holy shit, the man is gorgeous.
I shook his hand, breathing out an awkward laugh. “Cori Sharpe. Your name sounds like the hero in a romance novel.” His laugh joined mine and the room melted away when his eyes caught mine. Griffin was yummy. His laugh was beyond sexy. There was a scar, a small one, just on the edge of his mouth and when he shifted, I noticed the tattoo peeking from under the collar of his shirt. He was covered in them and it suited him. It suited me too. I was more a fan of the straight-laced kind of men, but my type went out the window when Griffin filled up the doorway. I knew I was losing my mind when I started searching for a wedding band. Get a fricking grip, woman.
“I take it yours is the one in black?” He slid his calloused hand from mine and I nodded, peeking at his ring-less left hand. “How old is she?”
“Five in a couple of weeks.” I glanced behind him at the women watching us. “You’ve caused quite the stir.” Griffin flashed a smile at the women then turned back to me, I could almost hear the panties dropping at the gesture. “Congratulations, tonight you will be at the forefront of five women’s self-induced orgasms.” Then his smile turned devilish.
“Only five?” He arched an eyebrow at me, making me giggle. I even blushed like a schoolgirl.
I had to clear my throat before answering, “Only five.” A big flashing sign in my head went off, horn blaring, and declaring liar in all caps. “How old is your daughter?”
His smile didn’t fade, like he was reading my mind and enjoying all the dirty things my mind was doing to him. “Five last month. Why are you not over there cackling with the other hens?” I chuckled at his reference, shaking my head. Had the perfect man just strutted in and parked his hunky self next to me? It was all very unfair considering I was in no condition to do a damn thing about it.
“I’m not quite their type.” I moved my focus back to the girls. If I hadn’t I would have started mentally undressing him, just like the other women were, and I was better than them. Despite his masculine smell, proximity, and crazy hot body, I was keeping my cool. “I don’t have a six-figure husband, or a cute SUV, or a standing appointment with my yoga instructor.” I rolled my eyes. I was not bitter about working, or my eleven-year-old Jeep, or lack of yoga. I was bitter about single parenting, at least a little.
“Wow, whole list of downfalls there.” His sarcasm made me laugh. “How are you surviving without yoga? What do you even have?” Uh, I have the urge to climb you like a tree.
“Well” —I brought my gaze back to him, focusing on his gorgeous eyes— “I have an amazing little girl, a reliable car, a good job that supports us. Oh, and enough self-respect to not act like they do,” My list was good, right? Stability without a man. I also made it clear I wasn’t treating him like a piece of meat. “What do you have?”
Griffin smiled. Holy shit, I’m flirting with the guy and doing a good job.
“I own my business, my car, and my home. I have Celia. And I elicit a similar reaction everywhere I go.” He crossed his arms over his puffed chest, smirking. “What do you do? You look like an artist who would have a little kiosk at farmer’s markets selling handmade something.” So far, the man had used “pious” and “kiosk”. Beauty paired with brains. Nice.
“I’m a dog groomer. So, it’s like an art form, I gu
ess.” Tall, sexy, and tatted was smart and a good conversationalist. With my luck, he was married as well, just didn’t wear a ring. Not that I was looking for a man, Axel and I were fine alone, but Griffin was the polar opposite of what I went for. He was genuinely engaging, despite the bad boy appearance. He made me forget how screwed up I was in one very easy conversation. “What do you do?”
“I am a tattoo artist.” Not my type at all, but then again, my usual type was currently in prison. “Do you know where Needles is?” I nodded slowly. Needles was two blocks from work, where Harriet got all her ink done, and sometimes cleaned after hours. Hell, everyone I knew went there. “I own it.”
It was also an award-winning tattoo shop; one people drove and even flew in to use. It had awards out the ass. Needles had been featured on several tattoo shows over the years as well as in magazines. So, the man owned an award-winning shop, was sexy as all hell, and a good conversationalist. Not like I was taking notes, but Griffin Steele was perfect, not to mention totally out of my realm of possibilities. My girls had put crazy ideas into my head about needing a man.
“I know a few of your clients.”
We slipped into conversations of tattoos and what a small world it was that I worked nearby, but I wasn’t ready to give up how nearby, so I kept it vague. He talked about his art with passion, making him even sexier. We worked and lived a few blocks away from each other, but I wasn’t ready to give up many details yet. Griffin and I talked like we’d been friends for years, covering superficial topics of work and daughters until class ended. The shuffling from the other end of the room snapped us both to attention.
He leaned in close as we both stood. “I’m very new to this parenting thing, but playdates are real, right?” I laughed, but Griffin jerked his head to our daughters holding hands walking toward the door to meet us. He donned his devilish smile again, making me need to swallow. “I hope they are, because my girl is picky about friends, but she likes your daughter.”
Before I could respond, Karen Tolley strutted over with an audience behind her and tapped his shoulder. “Hello Corrine.” I smiled, internally rolling my eyes and starting to make my retreat. “I’m Karen. Your little angel must be new.”
Griffin exchanges pleasantries as I hit the door. Karen was married to some former MMA champion and big shot realty mogul in the area. Her daughter, Sophie, went to school with Axel. She flirted relentlessly with any dick she could find, and I knew she had been caught with more than one guy who wasn’t her husband. At least Karen was attractive enough to pull off all her skanky arrogance. Once the class dismissed, I was met with my daughter flying at me, her new friend in tow.
“You rocked your class. Munchkin,” I said as Axel climbed off me and tugged me toward Celia. I promptly dropped to my knee, smiling at her. “I’m Cori.” She gave me a tiny scared smile before looking over me at her dad looming over us. Her fear seemed to vanish at the sight of him, and I understood why. If I were in those arms, I would feel safe too. Safety was not something I ever took lightly.
“Can Celia play soon? I like her.” Axel started another ascent up my body until I was balancing her on my hip. The child was part monkey.
“Sure. This is Celia’s dad, Griffin.” My spawn immediately shook Griffin’s hand like a little lady, and he promptly offered his other hand to Celia. Looking at her mocha skin against his made me wonder about her mother and his statement about being new to parenting. There had to be a hell of a story there, but I had one of my own, so no judgment from me. I was curious as hell, though. The other women collected their children, still staring at Griffin, and Karen waved at him as she left. Griffin gave her a polite nod then went back to looking down at Celia.
“Can she come to my party?” Axel grabbed my face in her hands to make me look at her, and I nodded. “Then we can play ninjas.” I couldn’t deny that Ax was my kid. Celia looked terrified but smiled at Axel. “Can we get ice cream now? I’m starving to death for it.” My little drama queen. Celia’s eyes darted to Griffin at the mention of ice cream, but she still didn’t speak.
“Uh, yeah, sure. You guys wanna come? It’s frozen yogurt across the street. Very low-key.” Celia’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Sound good, Princess?” Griffin scooped her up and started toward the door with us trailing behind him. She nodded her tiny head into his neck, whispering a yes. Axel squealed in my ear, fist pumping the air.
The dance studio was nestled in a strip with a nail salon, a shoe store, and a coffee shop parallel to the yogurt place, a Mexican restaurant, and a fabric store. What else could you possibly need? If a liquor store moved into the vacant place, it would be my favorite strip of Broadway.
We darted across the street, kids in our arms, and into The FroZone. Yogurt machines and toppings lined the lime-green. The bored looking girl behind the counter perked up at the sight of Griffin. I couldn’t blame her; I did the same thing. She tossed us a greeting, adjusting her shirt over her breasts. Axel dismounted to jerk me to the chocolate machine. Then I noticed Griffin still standing near the door looking confused and overwhelmed.
“It’s just yogurt, come on.” He shook his head with a smile, following me to the cups. I went through the process with him, showing him and Celia how to mix the toppings, then I explained the weighing process at the end. Celia pointed as Griffin read the flavors to her, not saying a word, then pointed to the sprinkles. Big, badass tattoo artist whispered softly to her, being as gentle as possible as he helped her get a spoon and they joined us at our table. Axel started talking a mile a minute as soon as Celia sat down, but Celia didn’t say a word, merely giggled, nodded.
Griffin watched them interact as closely as I was. “Have you always lived around here?” He took a bite of frozen yogurt from the bright orange spoon and I bit my cheek to not laugh at the sight. He was easily six-four and bulky as all hell eating frozen yogurt with his little girl. It was the cutest thing ever.
“Yeah, we used to live out west, then we stayed with my parents a while last year, then I got my place right after I started full-time at my job. My boss is flexible since she’s a parent, so it works out. No we’re close to the preschool, too.” He nods his head slowly, like he’s processing. “You?”
“Uh, I have, but Celia moved here a few months ago.” He paused, licking his bottom lip. “She could use a friend like Axel.” Griffin indicated I should look so I move my attention to Celia whispering in Axel’s ear. “She doesn’t do things like that.”
Like what? Talk?
It’s not my place to ask, but the urge was strong. I needed to know what the hell was with them if my kid was going to be around them.
Before I could ask, though, he answered, “It’s a long story.” He leaned across the table, dropping his voice, “Celia had a rough start, and I had no idea she existed until four months ago.” Griffin clenched his jaw at the thought. “So, we’re still working things out. I was advised to put her in an activity. Celia said she wanted to dance, so now we dance. I need her to make friends.” His eyes looked almost pleading when they caught mine, and something beyond the attraction simmering between us came to the surface. Like he was asking for my help.
Then my flipping phone rang; Jovie would call at that moment. “Hey, girl.” Griffin still hadn’t taken his eyes off me, but I stared at my melting yogurt with the phone to my ear. His sexiness was distracting me from the phone call, so I couldn’t look.
“I see your car, where are you?” I cocked my head to see out the window. There she was with Ruby, Norah, and George. Only Jovie would take a week off only to add another kid to her chaos, then venture out in public.
“God, let me come help you.” I tossed my phone down and darted out the door, leaving a shocked Griffin with our two girls. George ran at me and immediately tugged at my industrial piercing in my ear when I picked him up.
“What are you doing out in the wild? Did you notice that you’re outnumbered?” I glared at my boss. I knew it was because keeping the
kids cooped up was worse.
“Amelia is at her dance class. Can we join you?” She looked exasperated and exhausted. I tipped my head, telling her to follow me in for some yogurt. Once Jovie made it in, she froze to look between me and Griffin. “Griff. What are you doing here and …” Jovie looked around, “Yeah, just what the hell?” I settled back down with George in my lap as she grabbed high chairs for the twins. It did look very date-like, even with the kids.
“Celia is in dance class with Axel.” I gestured toward the two little girls giggling over yogurt, oblivious to the world. I tried to eat, but finally had to let George finish my yogurt. George belonged to Jovie’s best friend, Nick, and his wife, Rae, but the twins were hers. Little George was staying at their place for a couple of nights and Jove was very overwhelmed, with good reason. She was still dealing with the business end of work plus three kids under a year and her teenaged sister-in-law who was more like a daughter.
“Whoa. What? Griff, you have a kid?” Jovie’s mouth hung open as she took in the scene again.
“Yeah, apparently. No one was more surprised than me.” Griffin looked genuinely ashamed for not knowing his child sooner. “How’s the biz?” He cleared his throat and eyed my phone on the table between us. Jovie started talking about work as our small world got smaller. She introduced him to the twins and he told her a little more about Celia. It was sad how he ended up with his long-lost daughter just a few months before. I thumbed open my phone to see he had put his number in it. I sent him a text, so he would have mine.
Was tall, tatted, and sexy flirting with me? My vote was yes, but it could have been his excitement over Celia talking to Axel.
“So, now my employee and my former neighbor slash pseudo-big brother are having yogurt?” Jovie smirked like she knew something we didn’t. The question sounded very rhetorical. As usual, Jove was reading into things. “I have George all week while they do the anniversary thing. Amelia’s car is in the shop, so my vacation is being spent as nanny and chauffeur. Plus, I’m still a little hungover from last night.”