Page 66 of Mister Mom

“See you, buddy.” Jagger holds out his fist for a bump.

Payne stares at it and then me and limply fist-bumps him. Guess Jagger Kale doesn’t win everyone over.

“Remember what I said, Vance. Two weeks.” Jagger makes a motion to seal his lips and throw the key away.

I roll my eyes. Dork. “Say bye to Jagger.”

Payne says, “Bye,” and Via waves her soiled hand toward him.

“See you, Manny dearest.”

Then it’s just the three of us left, so I take a selfie of us all and send Layla the picture, taking a moment to stare at the screen and think of how much I’d miss these two if Jagger’s right and this all goes to shit because I’ve been an idiot.

17

Layla

“Something smells yummy.” I shut the front door, take off my jacket and place my bag on the floor of the foyer.

Redoing a scene today where I’m stuck in the back of the smallest car ever has left my back aching. On the way to the kitchen to find out what’s baking, I stop to try to crack my back a few times.

A smile graces my lips the minute I step into the sweet-smelling space. There’s flour on the floor, sugar in Vance’s hair, a broken egg on the counter.

“Is there actually something baking, or did you just spread everything around?”

Vance turns from the oven, and I’m sucker-punched by the magnitude of his smile, as if he’s waited all day to see me. He points to the hallway and glances to the family room. There are the kids, Payne on his stomach watching a cartoon and Via lost in her bucket of toys.

I backstep out of the room, but not as fast as Vance approaches me. My back hits the solid wall of his chest and he spins me to face him, his fingers looping through the belt loops of my jeans, and he smashes his lips to mine. It doesn’t take long for our mouths to find our rhythm, our tongues teasing and dancing with each other. I grip his strong shoulders, keeping him exactly where he’s standing.

The kiss ends and he rests his forehead on mine. “I missed you.”

It’s almost as if I can feel the pang of Cupid’s arrow, searing me to this man. I’m not sure Carver ever told me he missed me—ever. And we’d been separated for months at a time depending on where and what we were filming.

“You did?”

He draws back, tilting his head in a questioning way. I smack his chest and he chuckles. “When will you stop doubting my attraction to you?” His arms pull me into a hug, his lips finding his favorite spot—or maybe mine—to kiss my neck.

“It’s not that. I can feel your attraction pressing into my stomach right now. I’m just surprised. You seem to have gone from fun flirting to putting a ring on it.” I raise my hand. “Not that I’m looking for a ring,” I add.

“You’re right.”

“I am?” Now it’s my head drawing back.

“Yeah.” He shrugs one shoulder and my eyes zero in on his biceps. Another tight t-shirt covering it up. “Are you a witch?” He leans forward, his eyes glimmering with mirth as they stare into mine. “Did you sneak some kind of potion into my drink? I mean it couldn’t possibly be because you’re beautiful, or because you’re funny, or you know what?” He raises his finger in the air. “My mom always said to stick with a woman who can cook and clean.” He takes his finger and runs it along the edge of the table. “I guess one out of two isn’t bad, right?”

I smack his stomach and he chuckles, linking his hand with mine and pulling me further into the kitchen.

“So, what did you bake?” I ask, sitting down on the breakfast stool and swiping some sugar off the counter.

Vance concentrates on my finger as I lick the sugar off. Once I realize he’s staring, I place it in my mouth and suck it off.

“Well, Payne said you love sugar cookies.” He takes a couple of steps to the side and glances into the family room. “He lasted until the eggs,” he whispers.

I chuckle. “Sounds about right.”

He wipes down the counter. “Bad part is I have no dinner because I guess I’m not the baker I thought I was.”

“You thought you were a baker?” My eyes find the sink full of discarded bowls and spoons and I stifle a laugh.

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