Page 7 of Holiday Hookup

Seeing the decorations that adorn all the desks and hallways remind me that I need to take Jaxon out to get a tree, and it also reminds me that I need to go shopping so my son doesn’t think Santa forgot him.

My phone vibrates once more in my palm and when I look down, my heart sinks.

DANE: Okay, I get it. You clearly don’t want me texting, so this will be my last one. Sorry for bothering you.

It’s for the best… right?

Yes. I think it is for the best. My life is way too complicated for a man who probably uses his smile to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Someone like him doesn’t fit into my domesticated existence, and it’s probably for the best. Then why does my heart hurt knowing I won’t hear from him anymore?

Chapter 6

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since I decided to stay here in this small town, three weeks of looking for a place to live, and two weeks since I last texted Nellie. I’m still wondering what I did wrong.

“Where did you want these, sir?” a young kid asks, carrying a box labeled Master Bedroom.

I fight the sarcastic comment that’s on the tip of my tongue and point him in the direction of my bedroom, which just happens to be down the hall from the front door. As he passes, I take a second to soak in the moment. This place is mine and mine alone. I take in the open concept living room and kitchen that has a great picturesque view of the parking lot downstairs. It’s not perfect, certainly not the five-star hotels I’ve been staying in over the past few years, but it’s mine. It has nothing to do with the band, fame, or recording a new album. All this place represents is a fresh start, allowing me to blend in; to feel like a normal human being for a while.

Suddenly there’s a loud crash from the hallway, followed by a cry. Before I have time to think, I’m running out the door, looking around for the source of the sound.

“What the hell happened?” I ask, the three movers standing there stock still as if waiting for a lashing. Their eyes are wide, taking in what once was my glass coffee table that is now a pile of shattered pieces on the hallway floor.

“He came out of nowhere, startling us. I’m so sorry, sir, we just lost our grip.”

All their eyes dart to the floor and I’m surprised to see a small body huddled against the wall, crying and surrounded by shattered glass.

“Shit!” I curse, crouching down, the crunch of glass underneath my feet reminding me to tread carefully as I pray I won’t have to pry glass from this kid’s body.

“That’s a bad word,” the kid says quietly, his big brown eyes meeting mine, a small smirk curving his lips. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my chest, relief flooding me as I take in his unharmed body.

“You’re right,” I admit as he eyes the glass once more, the guilt taking over his features. “You okay, little man?”

He nods slowly, sniffling as his tiny hands wipe away a stray tear from his eye. “I’m sorry about your table. I didn’t mean to break it—” His voice breaks and that’s when my chest constricts.

Do I love that my table is broken? Of course not. But it’s just a table.

“Hey…” I start, hoping to distract him any way I can. “What’s your name?”

“Jaxon,” he mumbles, barely audible. I hold out my hand, waiting for his eyes to meet mine.

“I’m Dane.” His small hand lands in mine, and it’s at that moment I realize just how small this kid really is. “How old are you, Jaxon?”

He proudly holds up five fingers, smiling that lopsided smile that sends a sense of familiarity through my chest. “I’m five!”

My eyes widen for his benefit as I stand, holding out my hand to help him to his feet. When we’re standing, his eyes avert to the door across the hall.

“Is that where you live?” I ask, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

“I’m not supposed to say,” he whispers, although it’s a kid whisper, so everyone in the hall probably heard it. Before I can ask another question, the door opens and my eyes land on a pair of Iron Man slippers, followed by Brooklyn 99 pajama pants and finally a Breakfast Club T-shirt that is at least three sizes too big.

I have so many questions…

“Dane?”

That voice travels over every inch of my skin as I close my eyes and bask in it for a few seconds. As I open them and take in the scene before me, it takes a few seconds before my brain catches up with what my eyes are seeing. Because standing in front of me is the woman that turned my world upside down and then crushed it beneath her feet.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her hand going to caress the blond hair on top of Jaxon’s head as she takes in the scene before her.

He’s her son?

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