by Kat Addams
“You know, I think you’re right. This has to be the strong one. Stro-o-o-ng,” he puffed out, exaggerating his vowels. “I feel like my head is a balloon. Like, I could pull it off like this.” He stubbed the joint out and took his head between his hands. “And then hang on to the string and float away with it. Up there, in those clouds.” He pointed toward the sky.
I bit my lip, tears welling in my eyes. Oh, how I wished I could video this and send it to his brother. But I still needed him to talk. He’d said he had something to tell me, and I wanted to know now. No more of this back-and-forth shit. I either had a friend or a boyfriend. I was tired of the friends-with-benefits game. I needed to know where I stood in his life and mine. My raging-bitch hormone flared for a split second.
“Sorry! Do you mind? I need to fix this, and I don’t know if I can walk over there without floating away. Not like you haven’t seen Tom anyway.” He slowly stood up, adjusting his banana hammock and struggling to situate everything back inside.
“Go right ahead.” I nodded toward the jumble of mess in his swimming panties. I wouldn’t turn down a glimpse of Tom.
He wiggled out of his wet Speedo, peeling it off and throwing it to the ground. His cock leaped up, as if gasping for air. He grabbed it in his hand, squatted slightly, and tucked it between his legs before standing straight up.
“Voilà. No willie in sight! You know, every man does this at some point. Tucks it in there to see what it would look like if they were a girl. Well, man, boy, whatever. You ladies have it so easy, not having an appendage swinging back and forth off your lap.” He squatted again, releasing his dick and letting it flop back to the right side.
I roared with laughter. I had never seen a man tuck his dick between his legs and pretend he was a girl. Never. Now, I thought it should be the next viral internet challenge.
“Aiden. Oh my gosh. I can’t breathe. I’m laughing so hard.” I bent over, wiping tears from my eyes. “You can’t serve this stuff at your restaurant. You’ll have men stripping left and right. Wait. On second thought—”
“Keep laughing. I love that. And you. I love you.” He walked over to me with Tom still dangling in the wind.
I sucked my breath in through my teeth. “That’s the CBD talking.” I handed him the towel on my lap.
He wrapped himself in it before plopping down beside me. “Nope. I’m afraid not. It’s just me. I love you.” He turned his attention toward me, letting those words hang in the air.
I’d expected Aiden to tell me he wanted to try out our relationship or else end the benefits that came with our friendship. I’d had no idea he would tell me he loved me. I wasn’t there yet. I hadn’t allowed myself to go there. I’d stuck to my boundaries, but he hadn’t.
“Aiden. I …” I cast my gaze away from his.
I couldn’t break his heart. This was the situation I’d been trying to avoid. How could we ever go on with such a strong friendship once drama and feelings were involved?
“You don’t love me. I get it. But I’m asking if maybe you can give me a chance? We have a baby on the way. We’re best friends! Have you ever noticed we finish each other’s sentences and sometimes read each other’s minds? We just get each other, Layla. I think we have a good shot at this. If you aren’t interested, I understand. But if you think—”
“Stay with me. Tonight. Tomorrow. The week. However long it takes us before we get on each other’s nerves. Be there for me. Be what I want. I want those moments before we become three,” I blurted out before I could change my mind. I didn’t have long before my romantic nights were interrupted by a sweet but cranky newborn.
“The chocolates and cuddles and chick flicks. Sunday morning brunch in bed, pink peonies, and handwritten love notes. I know. I remember what you told me you wanted. I know about the fairy-tale fantasies you have. Let me show you my love. I want to give you all of that and more. We can still make this work, and you can still have what you want. We just have to adjust to doing it in a bit of a different way. You’re anything but conventional. You put your unique spin on things. This is one of those things.”
He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before grabbing my hand. He brought my knuckles to his mouth and brushed his lips against them, softly kissing his way up my arm. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, sending a tingle down my spine.
My breaths became heavy as he continued kissing me, standing up and working his way around my back before circling to my collarbone. He took my chin between his fingers and lifted my gaze to his. I stared back at my reflection in his eyes. The woman I saw staring back at me hesitated.
“I want you as mine,” he growled, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling.
He threw his arms around me, hoisting me up surprisingly easily. I wondered if that CBD stuff had given him superhuman strength.
I nuzzled my head under his chin, shifting my belly sideways so that I could hug him properly. The man of my dreams was my best friend. I’d stupidly given up on a real relationship with him over the last year because I didn’t want to give up our special connection—our friendship. Which I now knew was a relationship. I just couldn’t admit it, and neither could he until he’d smoked the herb.
I stepped back, taking his hand in mine and leading him inside. I became determined to cram every little domestic, wifey thing I’d ever wanted into this new relationship with Aiden. I wanted to hear him say, Honey, I’m home, as I pulled a cake out of the oven. I wanted him to draw us a bath in the evening before bed. I wanted Sunday sex in fresh linen sheets while he professed his love to me. I wanted to go to birthing classes and laugh about it over Mexican food later.
His hand slipped up my back as I led him to the bedroom. I trembled under his touch. It wouldn’t be hard for me to fall in love with this man. I had been heading down that dangerous road already.
TEN
Aiden
Six Weeks Later
I parked my car in the back of the new restaurant. The last few weeks of my life had made me feel like I was part of a family again. I stayed with Layla at her place more nights than not. I’d promised to give her those fairy-tale dreams, and if there was anything I knew about myself, it was that my word was golden. I never backtracked on a promise. Whether my ideas were stubborn, determined, or just damn stupid, I stuck to my deals.
That was why, when Jay had pulled me aside last night and made me promise to tell Layla about my fake love child, I’d agreed. I knew I couldn’t change my mind and bury my secret forever. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d lied to her about anything. I only never offered up the information. I couldn’t see my failure to tell all as that big of a deal. Not really anyway. But Jay had said to me that if I entered into a relationship with secrets, it would be doomed to fail. I didn’t want that to happen, especially with my baby’s mum.
Every day, I looked forward to coming home to Layla or her coming home to me. Countless times, I had dinner prepared for her when she arrived in late from class, and she did the same for me. We would sit, perched at the table, discussing the highs and lows of our days. Sometimes, she would let out one of those melodic giggles that threw me off my conversation. I would catch myself staring at her, wondering just how lucky I was to have this person in my life—friend or lover. Layla was everything I wanted, and she had been right under my nose the entire time.
“There’s nothing I love more than watching a man get ready for work in the morning. Especially when he is wrapped in just a towel,” she sighed, rolling over in bed and watching me across the room.
“Did I wake you?” I asked, wiping my hand across the steamed bathroom mirror.
“Nope. Not you. Your daughter. Who still doesn’t have a name, by the way.” She propped her head up on her elbow and smiled. “That is on the must-do list this week—figure out this princess’s name. Then, I think we will be all set and ready. I have a feeling I won’t last longer than two weeks, so we’d better get a move on.”
“Do you thin
k she’s ready? We still have, what? Four or five weeks to go? Is that safe if she came that early?” I rubbed the back of my neck and breathed out slowly. We would be a family of three before I knew it.
“She will be, according to Celeste.” She groaned, shimmying off the bed.
I stood at the mirror, staring at my reflection, running my fingertips across my scruffy jawline and grunting. I had been so busy with Layla, the new restaurant, and midwife appointments that I had begun to grow a beard. I’d always been the clean-shaven type, and the reflection looking back at me didn’t resemble myself at all.
“I like this new lumberjack look. Kind of like Nikki’s husband, Weston. Maybe we should name your beard too.” She came up behind me, pressing her pointed baby bump into my back.
“Nope. This thing is coming off now. I can’t look professional with all of this.” I turned around to face her, motioning my hands across my cheeks.
“Aw. Poor Frank.” She scratched my chin.
“Who’s Frank?” I brushed a curl from her face. I had no idea how she kept up with her long locks these days when I couldn’t even keep up with my face.
“Your beard.”
“Frank? Really? Couldn’t you have named it something manly? Like Gustav or Duke or Ace?”
“Duke! That’s it. Come here, boy!” She tugged my chin before reaching for the shaving cream and slathering it on my jaw. “Sit.” She pointed toward the toilet.
“On the toilet? I don’t think we’ve reached the open-door policy yet in our relationship.” I hesitated.
“I’m not asking you to use it, silly! I need you to sit, so I can shave you.” She grabbed a razor and pushed me toward the toilet.
I sat on the throne, tilted my head back, and followed her eyes while she gently shaved off Duke.
I pursed my lips together, holding back a laugh. When Layla concentrated hard on a task, her tongue often rolled out. I’d seen it happen in children when they focused on coloring or a math quiz but never on an adult. I didn’t want to point it out, for fear she’d stop doing it, and I enjoyed seeing that raspberry-pink tongue, especially as it circled just the tip of my dick. My cock stirred beneath my towel, lifting it into a white-flag salute.
“I see that giant thing waking up down there. You trying to distract me, so I butcher your face or what?” she said, rinsing the razor and shaving off another strip of scruff.
“He has a mind of his own.” I shrugged, not taking my eyes away from hers as she meticulously finished.
She grabbed a hand towel and wiped the remaining cream off my face, smoothing her hand over my jawline.
“I’ve never done that before. I’ve always wanted to though.” She pecked me on the lips and shuffled back to bed. “I still have thirty minutes before I need to get myself ready.”
I growled and loosened my towel, letting it drop to the floor.
I unlocked the door to the new restaurant and tacked the Help Wanted sign in the window. I had fifteen interviews scheduled today, starting in exactly one hour. I needed every job imaginable for this place. The new bar had been installed last week, furniture and equipment would be here by the end of this week, and we would begin our big marketing push by the end of the month. There was only a handful of things left to do, including naming the place and ordering signage.
Jay and I had discussed names the night he made me promise to tell Layla about Monica, but we never settled on anything. I kind of hoped we would have our baby girl’s name picked out first so that maybe I could name the restaurant after her, just as I had named Scarlett Herb after my mum’s and dad’s names. But life had been so busy for Layla and me that we hadn’t had time to discuss that.
I propped the door to the restaurant open so that the workers could come in and out freely. I expected my contractor sometime today to install the reclaimed-wood shelving behind my magnificent bar, which stretched from wall to wall, dominating the room in a rustic mix of oak and galvanized tin.
I scooted a folding table and two chairs to the side of the room before pulling out my laptop and browsing résumés. When I checked the time on my phone, waiting on my first interview, I noticed I’d missed a text from Layla a while ago.
Layla: I have good news! I’m on my way there. You’re going to love this.
I set my phone down right as she waddled through the door. The poor thing looked like a constipated penguin when she walked. I cringed in sympathy pains.
“I’m so sorry. I just saw your text. I’m prepping for interviews today. Here. Sit. Get off those feet!” I quickly ran to her side, remembering the rules laid out by Deb the doula. “You are stunning today! Are you hungry? I don’t have much I can feed you, but I can order in.”
I slid the chair out from under the table and helped her down. She winced with each movement.
“No. I’m fine. I just wanted to stop in and tell you that I settled on a name. Without consulting you,” she said, holding her hands up in protest. “I know. I know. Before you say anything, hear me out.”
“Daisy.”
“No.”
“Rose.”
“No!”
“Violet.”
“Damn it, Aiden! I said, hold on and hear me out. Now, listen. If you don’t like this idea, tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings. But this is your child as much as mine. So, we can compromise. Plus, I love the name.”
I rubbed my palms together, grinning. “Spit it out! I’m sure I’ll love it, too, if you do!”
“Scarlett. Scarlett Roxanne. I know your mom meant a lot to you. From what you’ve told me, she was an amazing woman. Rox is an amazing woman too. I want to give my daughter the best start in life. I want to name her after the two strongest women I know. Or, well, you knew your mom anyway. When you told me about her that night, I knew then that we could honor her—together. Any man who loves his mom as much as you do deserves to keep that memory of her alive. What do you think?” She shifted her weight on the chair.
I stood up, walked around to her side of the table, and crouched down to kiss her belly. “Did you hear that, Scarlett? Or Rox? Roxie? Roxanne? What are we calling her?”
“Whatever you want,” she said.
I rose from her feet, placing my palms on her cheeks and smashing her lips into mine. “You just get sweeter and sweeter every day.”
“Ha! You say that, but sometimes, these pregnancy hormones make me a raging bitch. But you’ve yet to see that side, I guess.” She threw her head back and laughed.
Her giggle sent a tickle throughout my entire body and out of my wiggling toes. I stepped back, taking her all in.
“Layla Jenkins, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Scarlett is one lucky girl to have a mum as thoughtful, kind, caring, and loving as you. Let’s celebrate tonight. How about—”
The door to the restaurant flew open.
“Sorry. We aren’t open for interviews yet,” I called out to whoever had rudely interrupted this special moment.
“I’m not here for an interview,” said a familiar Australian accent.
I looked up, unable to see her features in the bright, filtered light that shone through the front windows. But I didn’t need to see her to know that Monica stood in the doorway of my restaurant, right in front of my real baby’s mum.
Layla turned in her seat, huffing with each strenuous move.
“Phew. Can’t even cross my legs without becoming breathless.” Layla laughed, smiling at Monica. “I had to see where that accent was coming from! I’ve always wondered what a female Aussie accent sounded like. I don’t hear them much on TV, only the men. I’m not complaining though! You Aussies. Small world. What are the chances two Aussies would be meeting up in Forks?” She shook her head, clueless.
As if by some weird fate or divine intervention, the world had brought the woman from Down Under straight into my new life. I would have to tell Jay that his divine intervention could fuck off.
A shadow drifted across Monica’s face as her eyes fell to
Layla’s belly. She looked as if she’d aged ten years since that last time I saw her in the delivery room.
“Monica. What are you doing here? I—” I began.
My eyes shifted from Monica to a boy who stepped out from behind her. His gaze lifted to mine as I stared back into my own, much younger eyes.
Layla’s posture changed in an instant as she looked back and forth between the boy and me.
“You’re a hit, you know. Back home. The newspapers in our town ran an article on you over here. Opening a place in Outer Forks and expanding now into the bigger city. I’d love to take a tour, but I can come at another time though. I see you’re busy.” Her eyes fell to Layla’s stomach.
“No, he’s not. We aren’t. Who are you?” Layla pushed herself up from the table, knocking her chair back and groaning.
“I got it.” I scooped the chair up, setting it back upright and helping her steady herself.
She jerked her hand away from me.
“I’m an old friend.” Monica reached out, grabbing the boy and pulling him to her.
“I see. A friend. A good friend. A mate. Like a super friend, right?” Layla’s shoulders rose to her ears, her back lengthened, and I could swear she was growing taller by the minute.
Both Monica and I took a step back from her.
“I’m not sure of that American terminology. But sure, he was a super friend to me. And you are?” Monica asked.
“Monica. Layla. This isn’t a good time. Monica, can we discuss this later?” I pleaded before turning to Layla. “I’ll explain things. Just not now. With kids present.” I tapped her belly, trying to lighten the mood.
She swatted my hand away, scowling. I’d never seen a top lip rise on a human before. But whatever Layla had morphed into just now wasn’t human.