Page 34 of Mister Mom

Jagger’s words echo in my mind as we step into the elevator and I send a little prayer up that I’m not well on my way to creating my own mess that has to be cleaned up.

9

Layla

I walk into my house with Via on my hip at the end of a long day to the sound of Linkin Park blaring over the stereo. Seems like Payne’s going to learn those last few swear words he doesn’t already know.

Via wiggles in my arms and I place her down on the ground, where she immediately runs off toward the noise coming from the kitchen and living area.

“Invaders!” Payne screams and he runs past me to duck behind the couch, Via following close behind.

Two seconds later, Vance runs in wearing protective eyewear and a vest, with a Nerf gun in his hand.

“Me! Me!” Via runs out from behind the couch, holding her hands out for his gun.

He bends down to her and she grabs the glasses from his face and throws them on the floor. Payne comes from behind the couch and Vance’s vest lights up.

“Gotcha,” Payne shouts.

“You planned that distraction. I call foul.” Vance laughs as Via points the Nerf gun at him and somehow figures out how to fire off a dart.

Exaggerating an injury, Vance falls to the ground and Via jumps on top of him, laughing the way only a small child can—as if nothing in the world has ever been funnier than this moment.

“Whoa. I thought your brother was bad.” He picks her up with both hands under her arms and sets her to his side.

“Well, I think Via and I had a boring day compared to yours,” I say with a smile.

His cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink and he brushes off his jeans. Note to self—call cleaning lady. Also note to self—Vance is completely adorable when he’s embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

“I’d hoped to let you off the hook earlier.” I pick up Via because she might be all fun and games right now, but if she doesn’t eat soon we’ll be facing off with someone who’s more psychotic than Kim Jong-un.

“Hey, we made a deal. Don’t go light on me.” He makes his way over to the stereo, turning the music off, and then comes to lean on the archway into the kitchen. His arms are crossed, the t-shirt he’s wearing tight around his biceps, and with the Nerf vest on and the goofy smile plastered on his face he’s somehow more attractive, not less. How is that even possible?

“Come on, Vance.” Payne pulls on the hem of Vance’s t-shirt. “Again. Let’s play.”

Vance looks down at Payne. “Let me catch your mom up.”

“Payne, I’m going to start dinner. Go clean up the toys.”

Payne rolls his eyes and Vance moves to take off his vest, which results in his shirt rising and me discovering he has a teasing patch of happy trail that disappears down past the waistband of his jeans.

A throat-clearing distracts me as I’m trying to strap Via into her high chair. My eyes snap up and Vance’s smirk is set in place, as is the blazing heat in his eyes, heat I need doused.

I cannot fall for the scriptwriter.

“I ordered pizza,” Vance says, letting the moment pass.

He might as well have said that he’d like me laid out on the counter spread-eagle for him because nothing has made me happier in this moment than knowing I don’t have to cook dinner.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

“I know filming can go late,” Vance says.

Via smacks my hand and my head turns in her direction. “Yum, yum.”

“Yeah, well, when your role is as small as mine is, that’s not as much of a problem.” I make my way to the cabinet, grabbing a box of crackers. I place a few on the tray and grab her sippy cup out of the fridge. That should hold her off until the pizza comes, so I sit down in a kitchen chair, propping my feet up on the vacant seat across from me.

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