Page 68 of Tease Me

Right. He was prepared for this. Could he afford it? Probably not, but he would make the sacrifices necessary. “Fine.”

“I’ll also need someone to come to these appointments with me.”

“Don’t you have a friend who can do that?”

Lisa’s cheeks flushed with color. “I don’t have too many close friends.”

Even though he hated to give her exactly what she wanted, he said, “If I’m not working, I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you, Beau,” she said with false sincerity, sliding her hand on top of his. He recoiled, drawing back from the table with a jerk.

“Do you really find me so unappealing? You liked me enough once.”

“Once,” he mused to himself quietly. He couldn’t tell her she was a poor substitute for the woman he actually wanted. “But not anymore. The only reason I’m here is because of the baby.”

Pressing a hand to her stomach, she said, “And now I know where I stand.”

“Two cups of coffee,” the waitress said, gently placing each cup down in front of them. “Anything else I can get you? The cherry pie is exceptional.”

“We’re fine,” Beau said sharply, tempering his words by adding, “Thank you.”

With a quick bob of her head, she walked off to serve another customer.

“So we’re in agreement; I get money when I need it and you get... what? Peace of mind?” Lisa said derisively.

“I get to be in my child’s life,” he snarled, slamming his fist onto the table. Everyone at the surrounding tables stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them. “I get to be a father.”

“And what about... Evangeline, was it?”

Beau was out of his seat before Lisa could finish her question, the

sudden movement jostling the cups and the cutlery.

“Don’t you dare say her name,” he warned. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out some cash and dropped it on the table before leaving the café. His anger was biting at him—anger at Lisa, at himself, at the inequity of life. He returned to his car, each of his movements jerky and too hard.

He screamed out loud, slamming his palm against the steering wheel over and over again. Twisting the key in the ignition, he started the car and began heading back to John’s place.

His phone started ringing about a block away from the apartment. It was probably just Lisa again, ready to chew him out for embarrassing her back at the café. Against his better judgement, he took the call.

“Yes?” he barked.

“Mr. Jenkins?” a stuffy-sounding woman asked. “Alicia Rawlings from Sun City Realty.”

“Yes, Ms. Rawlings, hello,” he said, his tone quieter than before. “How are you?”

“Fine. Thank you. I have some news about your mother’s property.”

“Yes?” The house had been on the market for around a month already. He needed to sell it so he could afford to keep up with Lisa’s medical bills. “I hope it’s good news.”

“It is,” she replied perfunctorily. “We got an offer for six hundred and eighty-nine thousand nine hundred; that’s twenty-five thousand over list price. I suggest you take the offer.”

“I do,” he replied. “I accept.”

“Then congratulations. You’ve sold the property. I’ll start the paperwork right away.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a nice day, Mr. Jenkins.”

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