Page 62 of Promiscuous Lies

“If that’s what it takes.”

I lean down and kiss Bentley on the head. “Go and put that in your room for now. Don’t forget to say thank you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bossman Dutton!” he says before running off excitedly.

“I don’t like people,” I reiterate, holding the huge bouquet. “And you know buying me this shit doesn’t work on me.”

“But your son sure seems to like people, and you can do whatever you want with the flowers as long as you keep the lingerie sets.” He grins wickedly.

I let out a breath as I feel my temper rising. This guy just pushes and pushes. Not that I mind it in the bedroom. Flashes of a few nights ago come to mind, and I avert my gaze from him, trying not to think so fondly of this man right now while he’s pissing me off.

It’s true, though. Bentley loves people because he hasn’t been hurt by this world and doesn’t understand how cruel life can be. I certainly plan on protecting him from that as much as possible. I hope when I die, he won’t be as lonely as I was when my parents died. That part kills me the most because no matter how much I want to protect him, I’m also isolating him. I can’t blame it on Dutton, but he makes me more aware of the bubble we’ve been living in.

“What’s the dress code?” I ask, and he looks me up and down. I’m wearing a skirt and a plain white shirt.

“What you have on is fine.”

“So help me God, if I walk into this party and I’m dressed like this while other people are dressed up, I will kill you.”

“Okay, so they may all be dressed up, but that’s how they are; they love clothes.”

“That’s better.” I shut the door in his face and head to my room. I’m pulling a few things out of drawers as Bentley runs in.

“Are we going to the party?!” he asks eagerly.

“Change into your best black pants,” I tell him. He grins and runs to his room with another excited squeal. I can’t help but smile. He doesn’t have many fancy clothes, as he’s so young, but I took him out in a new outfit for his birthday, and he’s been asking me when he can wear it again. Even though it hasn’t been all that long, I’m not sure if it fits him anymore—he’s growing so fast. I guess we’re about to find out.

I put on a simple black dress, followed by some basic black heels, just as Bentley comes running back in. The pants still fit him, barely, though I can tell he won’t be able to wear them much longer. He also has his button-up shirt on, the buttons not quite matching the holes.

What am I doing? And why am I doing it?

This isn’t me. I told myself not to do things for a man again. Look where it got me last time. And I try to tell myself this thing with Dutton is nothing serious. But letting Dutton around Bentley in any capacity is serious for me, and so I’ll make it my mission to have a proper conversation with Dutton after this. It’s not just my feelings that have to be considered; it’s Bentley’s feelings as well. And Dutton can’t assume he has free rein to come and go as he pleases.

“Ready,” Bentley says enthusiastically. I look down at his big brown eyes. I can’t say no to this little guy.

I already know he’s going to be talking about this for days.

“Yep. Best behavior, remember,” I tell him. He nods before he turns and runs back to the door, pulling it open to let Duttoninside. Surprisingly, he waited outside after I closed the door on him. Bentley begins telling him about the new Transformers movie he watched, and I smile as Dutton tries his best to follow along.

CHAPTER 32

Dutton

She hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we walked into the restaurant. There is a small private area at the back for events, and the room is filled with very powerful people. Still, I don’t concern myself with it because I know Posie isn’t intimidated or made uncomfortable by the status or power of others.

I don’t like the idea of being pressured into inviting her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend more time with her, and a small part of me is curious to see what my mother thinks of Posie as well. Not that we’re serious or anything; at least I’m telling myself that. But I can’t seem to remove myself from her side as I stare down any man who so much as looks in her direction. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

Posie grips her son’s hand, and I glance down at him. I don’t hate kids, but usually they annoy the fuck out of me, so I stay as far away from them as possible. But this one seems okay… so far.

“Drink?” I ask her. I reach out to touch her, but she glares at my hand as if it’s on fire. So I drop it back to my side, the message clear.Do not fucking touch me around my son.

“Water,” she replies.

“Really?”

“Do you have a problem with my choice, or would you like to force my hand in that as well?”

My lips twitch, and her gaze narrows as if knowing I’m trying not to smile. Her fiery temper always amuses me. That’s why she reminds me of a little monster when she explodes. I wouldn’t give a flying fuck if she lost it at me right now in front of my family because part of me knows she enjoys acting like a brat around me; it only makes her punishments worse, which she just so happens to fucking love.

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