Page 44 of Accidental Vegas Vows

I shut the door behind me, taking the moment to study the amount of high-tech locks that were in place on it. I’d probably need to learn how each one worked if I stood any chance of getting out one of the doors here at some point.

But I had tomorrow to learn the ropes of the house before Damien went back to work on Monday, and I’d be here, with Noah, working from… working remotely.

“Noah’s asleep,” he said, tilting his chin up the stairs as he carried my bag to the foot of them. “I’ll bring your bag up to your room. I think I’ve mastered the whole not waking him up thing.”

“After one night?” I laughed.

He grinned at me and nodded. I watched as he carefully trudged up the stairs, my intensely heavy bag almost nothing to him, and slid my coat from my shoulders. Might as well make myself at home.

I kicked off my shoes, grateful that I’d chosen to wear joggers instead of tight slacks this evening, and wandered through the massive living room to where I knew the kitchen was. I knew better than to get myself a glass of wine — even though I wanted one. Even though it would help with the nerves of just being here after what happened last time.

So, instead, I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

“You know you’re welcome to have anything from my kitchen, right?”

He stood in the division of the kitchen and the living room, one brow raised as he watched me sip my orange juice. “I figured,” I said. “But… you know.”

“I get it.” He looked toward the double glass doors, the light from the kitchen’s wall of windows painting the veranda in warmth despite the chill of the city atmosphere. “We should go over a few things while he’s sleeping. Do you want to go outside?”

“It’s cold.”

“I’ve got blankets.” He stepped past me and padded across the floor to the doors, unlatching one lock at a time with a mixture of his hands and his phone. “I can turn on the fire pit, too.”

He swung the doors open and the low hum of the city flooded in, filling the quiet space with life and the sounds of night. The sun was far below the horizon, not a single speck of its warmth in sight — just the faint flicker of stars through the light pollution and the view over the Golden Gate Bridge.

I followed him out, shutting the doors just enough that only a crack remained open. Just in case.

To the right, just on the other side of the living room window and the bottom of the staircase, was a plush, rounded outdoor sofa, and a wide electric fire pit in front of it. One flick of a switch from Damien and it roared to life, warming the air around it that was encased by a pristinely trimmed hedgerow on the backside.

Despite my better judgment, I sat down beside him.

He passed me a blanket — thick and soft, a plaid green and blue pattern weaved into it. I pulled it over myself and brought my knees to my chest. He didn’t bother with one for himself, though, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander across his chest and the fabric that clung to it.

“I want you to know that I’m well aware this will be awkward as shit,” he said.

I loosed a breath as I let my head fall back onto the cushions. “Good. I can’t pretend like it isn’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. Even around Noah, you don’t need to hide it if you’re feeling uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” I chuckled. “How was the rest of yesterday with him?”

He stared at the flickering ethanol flame in front of him, one foot on the edge of the pit and the other planted on the ground. “It was good, I think. I’m learning. I took him shopping, mainly so I could get the shit he needed as quickly as possible, but… I kind of offered him whatever he wanted. I thought it was a good idea at the time, you know? Thought that he’d get excited and warm up a little more to me if I bought him things. And he did, but?—”

“Don’t tell me you tried to buy his love,” I deadpanned.

“Not necessarily buy his love. I wanted to buy his comfort around me. But you’ll be happy to know that it backfired,” he said, a little laugh seeping out of him as he mindlessly stole my glass of orange juice and took a sip. “He was excited. Too excited. Started saying that I was the best and that his mom never would have bought him that much stuff.”

His finger scrubbed along the lip of the glass, and the more I watched him do it, the more I realized it was an anxious tick. “Was his mom not as well off as you?”

He shook his head as he took another sip. I should have grabbed another glass. “No. Last I heard she was working as a manager at the airport. She wasn’t broke, but… she probably wouldn’t have been able to buy him anything he wanted. He picked up on that.”

I pulled the blanket higher up around my chest. It was warmer in front of the fire pit than it had been outside his front door, but there was still an edge of discomfort. “How’d you handle that?”

Sharp blue eyes, reflecting the orange and yellow hues of the fire, clashed with mine for a fragment of a second. “I told him that just because I was able to purchase things for him, that didn’t default me as the better parent, especially when she’d been there with him from the day he was born and I hadn’t. I don’t think he quite understood.”

I pursed my lips as I watched him study the fire, wondering if he’d find answers there that I couldn’t provide. “He’s only five,” I countered. “It’s okay if he doesn’t understand.”

“I just don’t want him to convince himself that I’m the better parent when he’s only known me for a day,” he sighed. “Because I’m not. I’m not the better parent, Liv, and his mom doesn’t deserve for him to see me that way. I’m doing this blindly and erratically, but that’s not what he sees.”

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