Page 43 of Accidental Vegas Vows

His mouth opened in a circle as he finally broke eye contact from the game, wide eyes meeting mine. “She’s moving in here? With us?”

I nodded. Another buzz from my phone.

Olivia: I can’t do that. It’s not mine. It’s too much money.

“She’ll be watching after you when I’m at work,” I explained, trying to keep my mind in two places while I replied to her. Call it a bonus, then. For the proposal you wrote and the fantastic ideas you have.

“Wait,” Noah said. His burger toppled in the game and he set the tablet down between us, shuffling his little body to face me. “Is she going to be my new mom?”

My phone buzzed, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at it. I was far too taken aback by the insane question my son had just asked me. Yes, Olivia was technically my wife. Yes, I was attracted to her — of course I was. But that… now wasn’t the time, the place, the scenario to consider it. I couldn’t even let that thought wander around my head for fear that it would seat itself somewhere. “What?”

“What?” he parroted.

“She’s… she’ll be… uh, like a nanny. Do you know what a nanny is?”

He shook his head.

“Okay, she’ll be like a babysitter that lives with us,” I faltered, words escaping me from the sheer bluntness of his line of questioning.

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “So, a mom.”

“You have a mom,” I countered.

“My mom is dead. Olivia is alive. Plus! Plus, I have a friend, his name's Olly. He’s really cool and he has this awesome scooter. It’s, like, bright blue. But he has two moms.” He held out two fingers as if it proved much of a point. “I could have two moms, maybe.”

“We really need to discuss how blasé you are about your mother passing away,” I mumbled, sinking into the sofa a little more as I unlocked my phone again.

“What does that word mean?”

“Blasé? It means… it means that your mother’s passing is a serious thing, and it’s not something to be so… relaxed about,” I sighed. “But I understand that you don’t fully understand that yet.”

His head tilted again, as if he were a puppy and I’d said something that he didn’t quite catch.

“Noah,” I said, placing my hand gently on his shoulder. “If you ever want to speak about your mom, you’re more than welcome to come to me. I want you to know that.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

I let myself drift back to the texts with Olivia as he reached for the tablet again.

Olivia: :( but that means I’ll have to pay taxes on it.

I chuckled as I wrote out my reply. Then cash the damn check, princess.

Chapter 15

Olivia

Istood on the front steps of Damien’s house, the cold evening air biting through my thin coat. I tucked my fingers into the sleeves and wrapped them around the handle of my suitcase, the soft glow from the downstairs windows just enough to see in the low light of the evening. Each second felt like an eternity as I waited for him to open the door, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath until the door swung open and I lost the air in my lungs.

He stood there in a thin white t-shirt that clung to him like a second skin, a pair of flannel pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips. I just could barely make out the V of muscle that acted like a stupid fucking arrow. My saving grace came only in the looseness of his pants.

“Did you have to wear that?” I asked.

He snorted. “Are you planning to comment on my attire by way of greeting every time you come to my house?”

He took my suitcase from my grasp and opened the door further, motioning me through. “I mean, I wasn’t planning to,” I grumbled.

---