Page 18 of Daddy Issues

Not long after that thought, a cute little boy with dirty blond hair and dimples that always made me smile stopped to search the crowd. He saw me and brightened instantly.

“Kenna!” His little backpack made swishing noises as he ran to me.

I had to steady myself as he hit me with an exuberant hug. I took the hit with a laughing step backward.

“Hey, buddy, how was school?”

Ignoring my question, he slipped his hand in mine. “Daddy said you’d get me today. I thought maybe he made a mistake. Where did you go? Did you miss me? I drew an elephant today. Want to see?”

At Puck’s large truck, which I’d driven to pick him up, I knelt and turned Eli’s face to mine. “I’ve been working, I’m sorry. But I absolutely missed you with my entire heart. How about you show me your elephant when we get home? Maybe you can show me how you drew it.”

I pulled him close and snuggled him. He smelled of tear free shampoo, applesauce, and the happy scent of a clean little boywho had played hard all day. I wanted to cry, because I had missed him so much.

By the time he climbed into Puck’s truck and I’d buckled him in, he was well on his way to giving me a full accounting of his day. By the time we pulled into the driveway, I knew every snack, every game, and how he was the smartest at math.

“I’m glad you came to get me. Can I have a Kenna snack?” he asked as we walked up to the back door.

“Absolutely.” He meant a fluffernutter. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich with the edges cut off. Puck kept all the stuff to make it, but apparently Eli deemed mine superior.

There’d been a prickle of disappointment that Puck’s bike wasn’t in the driveway when we’d got back. He’d been gone when I picked up the truck, too. He’d not told me who’d relieve me, whether he’d be back or his mom. I hated myself that I hoped it was him. I needed a distraction, because in two days he’d blasted right through all the anti-Puck and Desert Kings barriers I’d built.

Eli ran off to play while I set about making his sandwich. I was fighting the sticky fluff over the white bread when Puck texted me. He apologized and said he’d be late, asking if I could fix Eli dinner too and get him ready for bed.

I spent the rest of the evening drawing elephants, constructing ramps for monster trucks, and cooking spaghetti. Eli ate the noodles and sauce with a vigor unlike anything I’d seen. I gave him his bath, and when he asked for a cuddle, I climbed into the small bed with him and held him close.

Messing around with his dad was a bad idea. Because I’d missed this almost as I’d missed Puck.

The little guy had just fallen asleep when Puck’s bike rumbled up the drive and shut off. Eli twitched and mumbled a little, but I was able to calm him. His lashes fanned out on his rosy little cheeks. He was precious. I didn’t even like kids most of the time,but this one was different. I could relate. I knew what it was like to have a shit mom. At least he had a good father. Eli was a lucky one.

Something in my chest gave, shifted, and let me swallow to fend off the sob stuck in my throat. David wasn’t my father. Puck wasn’t a guy who would make me a wife, a mother. None of these were things I should want. I should get up, I should leave.

But I froze as Puck entered the house, holding my breath while he peeked into Eli’s bedroom. He was home now. I had no reason to hang out. Other than to see him.

I waited until his steps moved back down the hall before I slipped from Eli’s bed. I quietly picked up his toys, stashing our makeshift ramps in his closet. Then moved to the bathroom to pick up his dirty clothes and put them away.

I wasn’t getting paid to tidy up. Once someone else was here, I usually went home. But here I was, lingering for a moment alone with Puck. I was embarrassed, nervous, so many different things.

Not for the first time my thoughts flashed to that night, Puck teasing me as I’d made myself come. I’d seen the desire plain on his face, and I’d been so close to climbing him like a fucking tree.

A big ass, sturdy tree. I shook off thoughts of his dad and leaned to press my lips to Eli’s hair.

“I bet he was excited as hell to see you today.” Puck’s voice was low but still startled me enough I jerked from my awkward position leaning across the small bed, cracked my knuckle on the bed frame, and swallowed a yelp.

I hopped in a circle and flapping my smarting hand around like a decapitated chicken. So much for approaching Puck with a demure, confident line about something sexy.

“Shit,” I hissed in a whisper, made a face, then put my sore knuckle to my lips to suck the pain away.

“Sorry about that.” Puck coughed and looking away with a smirk, pulling his hair from its tie and running his fingers through it. Down, his brown mane hung to his shoulders. Big, strong shoulders that rippled with muscle and were as wide as the door frame he stood in. He waved me to follow and moved back down the hall toward the kitchen.

He’d taken off his cut and his boots, the latter being the reason I hadn’t heard him walk back to Eli’s room. For such a big man, he moved with an athletic grace I appreciated.

“How are the piercings healing? Sore?” he asked in the kitchen as he collapsed into a chair at the table.

I covered both breasts and gently squeezed as I leaned against the counter across from him. The soreness there gifted me a sweet little jolt of pain. “Yeah, but it’s okay. The sports bra helps most of the time except at work. I have to wear a cotton bra under whatever bra I wear at the club to keep anything from catching on them.”

His gaze ran across where my hands remained on my breasts. Beneath my black tank, heat emanated, so I dropped my hands. I was too nervous now, after everything, to feel sexy.

“Mhm. Keep them clean. Use that cleaner I gave you. If they get too sore, soak them in the soaking solution.”

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