Page 8 of Perfect Alpha

“How are you, babe?”

The dark circles under her eyes look like bruises, and tears instantly pour down her cheeks. “I’m making it,” she whispers. “I’msoglad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

Disentangling myself from Hannah, I crouch down to greet Aidan. “How’s my favorite little man?”

“Hi, Auntie Victory.” Aidan’s pronunciation of my name sounds more like Vicory and never fails to make me smile.

His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him, and he immediately sucks his thumb and looks away. He’s playing shy, and my heart hurts because maybe he wouldn’t if I was around more. Video calls only go so far.

“I have something for you,” I tell him.

“You do?” He bravely tilts his cherubic little face to look at me, and I can’t resist ruffling his blond ringlets.

“I do.” Rooting through my oversized purse, I present Aidan with a wrapped box.

He rips through the puppy-themed paper and shrieks his delight at the authentic New York City firetruck, ambulance, and police car.

“Uncle Cade got me firetwuck!” he shrieks. “Now me gottwo! Thank you, Auntie Victory!” Aidan hurls himself at me with such force that I fall backward, giggling helplessly while he smothers me with cuddles.

“You’re welcome, little man. And tonight I’m going to take you and your mama out for dinner.” Hannah’s budget doesn’t allow for dinners out very often, so I always take them when I’m home.

“Mama work. Uncle Cade do bedtime. Mama work.”

Hannah lets out a low whimper because she hates being apart from her baby and missing any of the moments that matter.

“I took today off,” she explains, injecting cheer into her voice.

Weekends represent the best tips at the bar, but taking a Thursday night off is possible for Hannah. Her schedule is exactly why I chose to fly down today.

“We’ll all be together tonight,” I say brightly. “Would you like to see me on Saturday when your mama goes to work?”

I’m planning to spend tomorrow night with my parents, but definitely want to pick up a few baby-sitting shifts.

Aidan nods, and with a very serious expression not befitting a toddler asks, “Me bring twucks, right?”

“Absolutely,” I promise. “Let’s go inside so I can drop my bags off, and then we’ll head into town, okay?”

“Otay,” Aidan happily agrees.

He climbs off me, and I scramble ungracefully to my feet, giving Hannah another hug. “You’re raising an incredible kid.”

She beams. “Thanks, Victory.”

I’m dusting the dirt off the back of my jeans when the voice that still haunts my dreams washes over me.

“Hi, New York.”

I stiffen, instantly on edge, and resist turning to face the unwelcome intruder. I should have deleted the stupid picture he sent. My mind’s eye has summoned it up and wants to confirm every detail in high definition.

Why does my brain refuse to work properly in his presence?

“Cade.” I hate that my voice still cracks when I say his name.

I willnotlook at him.

I won’t.

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