Page 34 of Erik

Hadley shakes his head. “She always knows when to show some TLC.”

“That she does.” My phone pings. I check it and smooch Hadley’s cheek, “Erik’s car is out front. Love you. Bye.”

When the stilettos click on the steps leading from the porch to the sidewalk, a chauffeur in black uniform opens the back door of a Rolls Royce Phantom. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Dex Mitchell and I’ll take you to Mr. Crawford tonight.”

“Thank you.” I climb inside.

He takes his place behind the wheel. As he pulls into traffic, he informs me, “We’ll be there in little over an hour. There’s snacks and drinks for you. Press the intercom on the dashboard if you need anything, ma’am. Enjoy your ride.”

I smile at the gentle man. “Will do. Thanks.”

Wrinkles form in the corner of his eyes when he returns my smile. The glass partition rises between us, hiding his salt-and-pepper hair.

I rest my head on the leather seat, watching the lights of the city and doze off. When Dex calls me, I sit up with a startle. I take his outstretched hand and he helps me out of the car.

Before I can thank the man, Erik swoops me in his arms, covers my lips with his, and I forget the world. Nothing else matters, no ghosts from the past haunt me, when our bodies entangle in a breath-stealing kiss. He breaks it to bury his face in my hair. “I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he murmurs, combing his fingers through my curls.

“I counted the minutes,” I whisper back.

Someone clearing a throat beside us jolts us apart. A redheaded boy, no more than five, stands a couple of feet away. His large, hazel eyes follow our movements as we smooth outfits and hair. He steps up to me with a heavy limp and taps his chubby palm on my thigh as if to call my attention, even though I can’t take my eyes off him. My heart thuds, skipping a few beats, when I notice his tiny fingers are crooked, and a couple of nails, missing.

He smiles up at me. An endearing gap, where a tooth used to be, makes his words come out as a hiss. “You’re Daddy’s friend? I don’t see many of his friends around here. I love hanging out with Daddy and his friends.”

I grin at the sweet, little man and start to sink to his height, when a voice calling from the house stops me.

“Liam! Liam!” A young woman in white jeans and blouse rushes out of the front door. “S-s-sorry, sir,” she stutters, glancing at me and Erik.

“That’s okay, Meg,” he assures her. “Take him to his playroom, please.”

She scoops the boy up, then disappears back inside the house.

I furrow my forehead at Erik’s blank expression when our stares meet.

With a million questions crashing in my head, I rasp, “That’s your son.”

He casts his eyes down.

14

Erik

How do I tell a woman like Christine I’m so broken I tainted my own son? What kind of monster passes on his sins to his kid? Me. That’s the type of beast I am. Liam inherited them and there’s nothing I can do about it.

To buy time, I gesture for her to follow me, and we take the stairs to the garden. I offer her my arm, so she won’t trip, as we stroll through the bluestone covered walkway illuminated by solar-powered lights. She wraps her fingers around my left forearm, and her touch burns the tattoo underneath the long sleeve. We stop at the balustrade fencing a lookout point with a magnificent view of a fiery sliver of sun as it dives into the cold Pacific.

Christine faces me, even though I keep my eyes on the sunset. “I get it now. You’re protective of your son. You don’t want paparazzi harassing him, hence that NDA.”

I nod. Inadequacy clogs my throat, choking the words I don't dare say. She’ll run for the hills and never look back if I tell her my whole story.

A humorless smile lifts her lips. “It insults me that you believed I had to sign a legal document to respect that.” She throws her hands up. “But, hey, you don’t know me. Otherwise, you’d never present me that damn thing to begin with.” She scans my face for reactions.

I school my features to reflect a desert landscape.Nothing to see here.

She crosses her arms under her breasts, but her eyes betray more insecurity than defiance. “Well? No comments?”

I force words to come out before she bails on me. “You’re right. I don’t know you well. There’s a lot you don’t know about me either.” I grip the top of the concrete wall with both hands, hang my head down, and rock back and forth. With a deep inhale, I snap my head up, locking eyes with her. Compassion in her stare makes my hopeful heart jump up and down. I choose a partial truth, leave out the parts that would make her despise me. Here goes nothing. “Five years ago, Liam was left at my front door.” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “It was a freezing, rainy night. He was so tiny. A note pinned to his blanket said he’d been born on November twenty-ninth, a week prior. They said his mother had walked out of the hospital, leaving him behind with my contact information, stating I was the father.” I shrug, as if Liam’s arrival hadn’t changed my life forever. “With my drug-abuse history, that could be true.”

Jaw-slacked, she mumbles, “Could? You don’t know? What about a paternity test?”

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