Page 43 of The Southern Thirst Trap

She considers my words for a moment, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “This isn’t going to work. I need someone solid and dependable. Someone like Knox. You like novelty and would be done with this as soon as the shine wore off. I’ve already been through that and I can’t do it again, Zander.”

Her words are a bucket of ice water over my head, dousing me in reality. She’ll never trust my ability to change unless I show her. I have to get rid of the fucking football player first. I won’t share her, but this isn’t my choice to make. I have to convince her I’m the only man she needs in her life, the only man that could complete the family we’ve created and I’ve missed out on for years. Before she can get around to telling me to leave, the front door opens and a flurry of noise and activity tornadoes into the house and my heart rate ratchets up with it.

Harlowe turns to me with wide, nervous eyes. “That’s Hendricks. Don’t make me regret this. You have one chance with him, Zander, don’t fuck it up,” she whispers.

I feel my hope deflate with her words, while a new anticipation twists my stomach into knots at the prospect of meeting the source of the noise and movement.Will he like me? Will Harlowe introduce me as his father?

My brain short circuits and I’m left with just white noise as soon as he rounds the corner to the kitchen, the world slowing down and my vision tunneling so all I see is the boy. He’s radiant, dark hair curling softly around his face, gray eyes animated as he heads for Harlowe, holding out toy cars clutched in his fists. He launches himself into her arms, his little voice running a stream of chatter the whole time. She catches him with a practiced ease that makes me oddly jealous, standing up with him wrapped around her, completely absorbed by his story and laughing a full, unguarded laugh at something he says.

The moment is frozen in my brain, a snapshot in time that will stay with me the rest of my life—Harlowe holding her boy,my son, lit by production lights, surrounded by the familiar tableau of her kitchen, an indulgent smile just for him—is seared into my retinas and instantly filed away in the most beautiful sights folder of my brain. It instantly replaces Machu Picchu at sunrise and resides next to the hundred other snapshots of her in the Maldives that live there already.

“Hendricks, I want you to meet someone,” Harlowe says, setting the boy down and angling her body towards me. “This is my friend, Zander.”

I don’t even let herfriendcomment get to me because I have the full attention of this little person to contend with, and I need to make the best first impression possible.

“Hi,” he says, eyeing me for half a second before he decides I’m worthy of his attention. He holds out his hands. “This is Optimus Prime and this guy’s the Batmobile. Who do you want to be?”

“Batmobile, for sure,” I say, with a quick look at Harlowe. She’s tense, her hands clasped at her stomach as she watches us. She gives me a small nod when I answer. I notice a well-dressed Asian woman standing unobtrusively on the other side of the island, watching the introduction with a sharp eye. This must be Harlowe’s mother. She raises an eyebrow at me when she catches me staring, then inclines her head at Hendricks as if to sayback to him, idiot.

“Want to build a racetrack for them? I have lots of Legos and blocks, come see.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, holding out the Batmobile for me to take, then grabs my free hand. His own little hand is strong as he pulls me into the living room, and I savor the warmth and reassurance of it before he lets go to quickly dump out a plastic tote filled with blocks on the carpet.

So, that was it? I was just accepted by this little kid when he asked to play. Maybe four-year-olds are simpler than I thought they would be to win over. Simple or not, I know my world just got turned upside down and will never be the same. All the complications of life just dimmed, my focus narrowing down to one universal truth that replaces everything: this is my child and I will do anything to make sure he is happy, safe, and has everything his little heart could want, including me and his mother working together, rather than against each other.

twenty-four

Harlowe

“Don’tsayaword,”I whisper to Mom as she fights the smile that tugs at her lips while staring at me.

My heart is hovering somewhere in the region of my ass as Hendricks leads Zander into the living room to play. It’s a sight I never expected to see, and it fills me with equal parts dread at the potential for this to go badly, and elation that my sweet son and his father are meeting for the first time and Zander seems perfectly happy about it.

“I guess you finally let him in. What changed your mind?” she asks, leaning on the island next to me as I stare at the two of them on the rug playing with toys.

Zander looks perfectly at home, his large frame sprawled on the ground creating a track with Hendricks in his charcoal gray slacks and crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up. It shouldn’t look so… normal. Or, damn, have so much sex appeal it hits me with a flood of warmth right in my center. As if my thong wasn’t already ruined by whatever that was in the kitchen a few minutes ago, seeing him playing with Hendricks now decimates the thin fabric and threatens to send me to my room with the need to change if this keeps up.

“I don’t know,” I finally answer, truthfully. “It doesn’t seem fair to keep Zander out of Hendricks’ life because I don’t like how things went with us. It’s not really my choice, is it?”

“It will always be your choice. You’re his mother. But I'm glad you let him in and are giving him the opportunity to get to know his son.” She wraps an arm around my waist and tilts her head on my shoulder.

His son. A feeling of trepidation passes through me with her words. He’s always been mine. Now I’ve exposed him to the man who hurt me the most, and there’s a part of me that doesn’t trust his motivations now. If he hurts Hendricks… well, Zander will feel the extent of my wrath if he so much as disappoints my boy.

“Hendricks seems pleased. He has a captive audience willing to build racetracks with him.”

I shake myself from the thoughts of potential heartbreak and snort out a laugh, because that’s saying something. Hendricks has more interest in building things than I have patience or time to indulge, and too often I have to tell him I'm too busy to play on the floor and exercise his robust imagination. Zander is currently connecting blocks into towers and creating a cityscape for Hendricks’s track to wind through. He’s giving his full attention to the task, asking Hendricks questions about which colors he should make each tower, or how high they should be, and engaging him like they’re equals and the job at hand the most important thing he could be doing.

I feel tears prick my eyes and sniffle them back so they don’t fall. Deep down, in the recesses of my heart, this is what I’d hoped I would have gotten from the Zander who whisked me around the world on a tropical vacation and made me feel like the only woman who mattered. Before I knew the cruelty he was capable of.

I straighten up, determined not to get lost in my feelings and the what-ifs of a naïve young woman who thought she could change a man. Or be swayed by the jaded, sex-starved woman who wants to get fucked hard by that very same man.

“I have to finish filming this recipe. It shouldn’t take too long, and then we’ll have my honey cake for dessert.”

“Will the handsome gentleman be staying for dinner?” Mom asks, pulling away and looking at the mess of cake batter on the island from earlier.

Making that mess could have gotten us into trouble. I was so close to ripping his clothes off and making him take me right there in the kitchen. God, was that hot.Nope, focus, don’t go there, Harlowe.

“If he’d like to,” I answer hesitantly.

I have a healthy take on an orange chicken dish I made for the channel earlier that’s ready to go, and of course there are at least four servings, so it would feed us all. I don't know if Zander even wants to stay. He could be humoring me now by playing with Hendricks, but he might pull back when he gets bored with entertaining a four-year-old and wants to leave. He may have dinner plans for himself, or even a date.

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