Page 28 of Coming Home for Love

“Maybe this will work.”

We shared a heated kiss as our baby slept behind us, not knowing what his parents were doing, and I didn’t know either. I wasn’t sure what Osiris’s endgame was, but I hoped it wasn’t some bull crap.

When we finally separated, Osiris kept his hand on my chin, and we stared into each other’s eyes, waiting for our breaths to even out.

“I think that worked.” I smiled.

He winked. “Oh, I know it did.” He pecked my lips again and released my chin.

I pulled the sun visor down and looked in the mirror. My lips were no longer shiny from the lip gloss, so I put a new coat on.

Osiris got out of the car and came around to my side.

“Good luck with him,” I told him when he opened the door.

“My boy is going to be fine.” His tone was confident, but he didn’t know Little O got an attitude sometimes when he was woken up early.

“Okay.” I closed the car door and waited to see what would happen.

As soon as he tried to wake Little O up, he swatted at his hand. Osiris looked over his shoulder at me when I giggled. I pretended to zip my lips and put it in my pocket.

Osiris shook his head, then attempted to wake Little O up again.

This time he groaned but kept his hands down, so Osiris was able to pick him up.

I closed the door when he stepped back. He locked the door, put the keys in his pocket, and grabbed my hand with his free one.

“You sure you are good?”

“Yes, sir.” I offered a reassuring smile, and he squeezed my hand.

Inside, it felt like someone was squeezing my insides.

We walked up the steps, and immediately, the door opened.

“Who do we have here?” Mrs. Gray walked toward Osiris and tried to get a look at Little O, but he had his head buried in his father’s neck.

“Hey, Mom. Let me put him on the couch, then we’ll have formal introductions.”

“Hello.”

Osiris’s mom stepped back and let us in the house. Immediately, the smell of fried chicken hit my nose. I also picked up hints of onion and garlic, and my stomach growled.

“You look familiar,” she said to me.

“I’m a chef at Taurus,” I told her, figuring that was where she saw me.

Osiris walked ahead of us and put Little O on the couch in the living room. The television was on that station that plays Christmas movies all the time.

“Is your mom named Nicole?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said as I sat on the couch.

She sat on the opposite couch. Osiris had laid Little O down on the couch I sat on.

“You look just like her.” Her eyes shot over to Little O. “I don’t need to ask who this little one belongs to, but I’m not sure why I’m just now finding out about him.” She raised an eyebrow. Her tone wasn’t angry, but it was clear she was bothered by the news, and I didn’t blame her. She looked back and forth between Osiris and me.

I was getting ready to tell her, but Osiris spoke up first.

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