Page 34 of Aria

Noah.The tattooed, foul-mouthed, cigarette-smoking Freeze Frame guitarist. He had a child. By all accounts, an adorable, well-adjusted child.

After only having a week to digest this information, I was on my way to Samuel Hayes’ fourth birthday party.

Devon tapped his hands against the steering wheel of his black Jaguar. The top was rolled down, yet the wind hardly disturbed a hair on his slicked-back, gelled-up head.

“I can’t believe no one mentioned Noah was a single dad,” I mused, pushing my sunglasses up over my hair to tame the fly-aways.

“Yeah, he’s private about Sam so we’re used to not talking about it. I guess it never came up.”

“Understandable. What’s his house like?” My voice was shrill over the howling winds and The Rolling Stones. I smiled to myself, envisioning the bad-boy rocker planting perennials and hosting martini mixers.

Devon shrugged, not missing a beat of his amateur drum solo on the wheel. “It’s a normal house. It’s just him and Sammy. And Rosa, the caretaker.”

I’d learned about Rosa over the past week. She took care of little Sam when Noah was off touring or playing shows. I couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor kid… he had no mother in his life, and his father was hardly home.

“What is Noah’s relationship like with Sam?” I wondered, curiously.

Devon switched off the radio and placed his hand atop my bare knee. “They’re close,” he said.“It was hard being a single dad in the beginning, but they make a great team.”

I bobbed my head with a thoughtful smile. Noah hadn’t provided any details into why he’d become a single father, but I knew better than to press his buttons on that subject.

Twenty more minutes passed as we pulled into the driveway of the Hayes household. I twisted in my seat to get a good look at the place Noah called home, noting that Devon had been right—itwasnormal. A picture of suburbia. I could almost see the soccer moms through the walls of the cookie-cutter houses lined up along the picturesque street.

We stepped out of the car, my eyes twinkling when I spotted three balloons tied to the mailbox, swaying gently with the spring breeze.

“Hi, Uncle Devon!”

My chin lifted when I heard a small voice coming from the front of the house. The voice was accompanied by an excited young boy running full force into Devon’s welcoming arms. Devon raised him high off the ground, as all good uncles should, spinning him around until tiny giggles emerged from the brown-haired child.

“Put me down, Uncle Devon! I just had cake.”

The boy’s face was beaming with blue frosting. Devon chuckled. “I can see that. You got into the cake already?”

“Yes. Miss Rosa let me have some.” Sam leaned in, whispering into Devon’s ear, “Shh. Don’t tell my dad.”

He laughed again before standing to reach for me. “Sam, I’d like you to meet a very good friend of mine and your dad’s. Her name is Chelsie.”

I expected Sam to cower behind Devon’s legs or give me the silent treatment, but I was almost knocked off my feet when forty pounds of sugar-infused four-year-old attacked me with a giant hug, instead. I patted the boy’s head, laughing out loud. “That was quite the hug,” I giggled, squatting down until I was at eye-level with him. “In fact, that was the best hug I’ve ever had. Do you practice that a lot?”

Sam nodded with pride. “I give my Daddyallthe hugs in the world.” He held out his arms to emphasize the greatness of this feat.

My smile broadened. Sam was adorable.

“Come on, squirt. Let’s get you back inside. You’re the star of the show, after all,” Devon said, tousling Sam’s hair and leading him toward the house. I rose to my feet and put my arm around Devon as we traipsed up the pathway to the front door.

“Hey, who invited this guy?” Noah greeted us in the threshold with a smirk, eyeing Devon with mock distaste. When his eyes shifted to me, his smirk softened into a tender smile. “You, on the other hand, are more than welcome.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Not without my date,” I teased.

“Daddy, this is Miss Chelsie.” Sam poked my arm with an eager finger. “She’s here to eat cake with me.”

“I do love cake,” I shrugged.

Noah scooped up his son, and the little boy rested his head against his father’s shoulder. “This little monster could eat cake all day long. Isn’t that right?”

My eyes misted. I had never seen Noah so stripped down, and so…happy. There was a sweetness in him reserved only for Sam.

“Can I open presents now?”

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