Page 47 of Mister Mom

I slam the door—and take great pleasure in doing so, I might add—then walk into the family room where Payne is still pressing his face into one of the cushions. Grabbing her purse, I walk back to the front door, toss her purse to her and slam the door again.

Pushing all that behind me, I sit on the couch next to Payne, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. His back is heaving and I can just make out his small cries, even though they’re muffled from the pillow.

“Why did you act like that?” I ask, more concerned than angry.

He twists his entire body away from me.

“Payne.” I sigh. “Tell me.”

He peeks his head up and I dip my own down to get his attention.

“I don’t like her.”

“Okay, but you could have waited until after she left and talked to me.” I pull him close and gradually slide the pillow out from in between us.

He curls into my side. “I like Vance,” he says with a sniff.

I nod, already knowing that’s what this is really about. “I know, but Vance isn’t a qualified nanny. He has a job. We have to find someone else.”

He’s quiet and I know this is hard for him. “Hey.” I draw back to look into his eyes. “Why don’t we find someone together, okay? We’ll both have a say in who it is.”

His lips tip up a bit and he nods.

“Okay, I have to check on Vance and Via. Via threw up on him.”

Payne’s eyes widen.

“Yep. Let’s go help Vance.”

I walk up the stairs with Payne at my side.

“Mom?” he asks.

I stop at the top of the staircase. “Yes?”

“Do you like Vance?”

I refrain from telling my four-year-old just how much I like Vance and how certain parts of me seem to really like him more than others.

“I do. He’s a nice guy.”

“Can we get a dog?” He changes subjects so quick it takes me a second to wrap my head around the change of direction this conversation is taking.

“No, not right now.”

“I knew you’d say no.” He frowns and stomps off toward his sister’s room.

We enter, finding no one there, so we head toward her bathroom. My feet halt the moment I see them and my jaw drops.

Am I drooling?

Vance is bare-chested, his hard chest, biceps and six-pack on display. As if that didn’t get me wet enough, he even took the time to give Via a quick bath and put her in a clean diaper.

“I think my shirt is toast.” He glances to the garbage can, where his shirt and all of Via’s clothes are.

“I can probably wash it out.” On your washboard abs, I don’t add.

My hand moves for the can, but he slides it out of my reach. “Nah, I don’t need it.”

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