Page 21 of Darla's Christmas Knight
She’d tell him then. Of the baby, that is, and not what his suggestive texts did to her.
*
Dream of me when you wear it.
And she did.
After she skillfully wound the silk around her head, protecting her newly treated blonde tipped hair.
And after she slipped between the silk sheets wearing nothing but the scarf.
And after her hands wandered, trying desperately to recreate the skill of his hands, but failing miserably, her climax nothing but a sad imitation of the real thing.
But when Bobby Bell entered her dreams, it was a confusing discordant mishmash, always ending where he walked away, leaving her clutching a baby to her chest, staring at his retreating back with tears running down her face, wondering how her broken heart would ever heal.
*
Darla woke exhausted, her pillow damp, her mood foul. And she wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and wallow in the misery of her own making. But it was the last Sunday of the month, and it was the one day her mother expected her ass to be in the pew and attend the family dinner afterwards.
She slipped from the bed and padded to the bathroom. And caught sight of her naked form in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall beside the door. Naked except for the damned scarf.She yanked it off and flung it aside. The silk fluttered to the floor, a gorgeous wave of floral abundance.
She scowled at the material, shifted her eyes, and scowled at her image. “He’s a scoundrel. A breaker of hearts. Aknave, not a knight. Best you remember that, girl.”
Even her shower, followed by a breakfast consisting of coffee and toasted bagel, did not lessen her cranky demeanor. She marched out her door, down the stairs, and out to her car with fresh resolve.
Bobby Bell was her baby daddy. Nothing more.
They would co-parent their child, his or her wellbeing central to their relationship, while remaining civil to each other.
There would be no personal interaction.
No flirting, no touches, no kisses, and most definitely no sex.
Her car beeped as she approached, the door unlocking. Reaching for the handle, she noticed the flyer under her windshield wiper. She moved closer and tugged it free.
And frowned.
It was an envelope. With her name on it. Same as yesterday.
She flipped it over. It was sealed. Using her finger to coax it open, she ripped the envelope in her rush. This card depicted a white number two with red candy cane stripes in the center.
Her belly somersaulted as she read the words written in his beautiful script:
Love your new hairstyle.
Darla spun about, her gaze scanning her surrounds.
No Bobby. No sign of his truck. And the slight dampness of the envelope indicated it had been placed a while ago.
She read the message again, a smile forming.
Bobby loved her hair.
Her smile dimmed.
Was hestalkingher?
Narrowing her eyes, she took a slower and more thorough look around. A lone jogger heading down the road. An older couple walking their dog. A child riding a bicycle.
