“Sorry, bud. You’re not having ice cream for dinner.”
It’s clear this isn’t what he wanted to hear because he deflates.
Before I can explain why I’m saying no, he stomps his foot and points to the freezer again.
It’s a battle of wills as we stare each other down.
He reminds me so much of myself right now it’s almost eerie. Stubborn little shit.
Sensing he’s about to have a full-on temper tantrum, I kneel down so I’m eye level with him.
“I know you’re upset, and that’s okay. I get upset when people tell me no, too.” Especially Kit. “But I’m not saying no to be mean or hurt you. I’m saying no because you need to eat something healthy before you can have dessert.” I wipe the tear rolling down his cheek with my thumb. I know he’s only crying because he didn’t get his way, but it still fucking guts me. “I’ll make you a deal, okay? You eat some of those eggs and I’ll give you some ice cream.”
I can tell he doesn’t want to cave, but the power of ice cream wins out.
A moment later he climbs back onto the stool and takes a bite of the eggs.
“Thank you.” I lean over and kiss the top of his head, grateful we reached a settlement before it turned into a meltdown.
After he’s finished with his eggs, I give him his scoop of ice cream as promised.
Given I’ve been trying to save and stretch what little money I still have left from my gambling days, we’ve been spending a lot of time at the apartment lately.
I’m about to suggest we watch some cartoons before it’s time for him to go to bed, but the front door opens.
Becca said she wouldn’t be home until after midnight, so I’m surprised to see her.
Surprised and annoyed because as usual she comes in like a wrecking ball.
Cursing up a storm, she tosses her jacket on the floor and throws her purse on the counter, knocking over the bowl of ice cream Jameson was enjoying.
“What happened?” I grit through my teeth, scooping out more ice cream for him.
Do I actually give a fuck? No.
Will letting her vent drop her from a hurricane three to a one while her son looks on with big, innocent eyes? Maybe.
Sidestepping me, Becca opens the freezer and takes out the bottle of gin. “I got into a fight with my boyfriend.”
Do I give a shit? No.
Do I want to know if whatever he did could impact Jameson somehow? Hell yes.
“Why?”
She takes down a glass from the cabinet and pours herself a generous portion of gin. Then she grabs Jameson’s juice box and squeezes some of the juice into it.
I grunt my disapproval. Loudly.
She pats him on the head like a dog and hands it back to him. “Thank you, baby.”
Poor kid lights up like a firework.
“The stupid idiot got arrested for soliciting an undercover cop for sex and expects me to bail him out,” Becca blurts out.
“Jesus,” I say through laughter, because what the hell? “What the fuck kind of guy are you hanging out with?”
Genuine hurt splashes across her face. “It’s not funny, Preston. He cheated on me with a hooker. Me.”
“Technically it was with a cop,” I correct, which only makes her more irate.
She drains the glass. “Fuck you.”
Not even with my worst enemy’s dick.
But now that she’s dropped the deadweight, she can focus on what’s important.
Her son.
“I know it sucks, but it’s a good thing.”
She folds her arms. “How so?”
I look at Jameson who’s gone back to his ice cream. “You don’t want someone like him around JP.” My gaze swivels to the living room where her beauty school bag is still stuffed into a corner. It hasn’t been touched in weeks. “Kicking that loser to the curb means you can concentrate on school and your son.” I look at her. “You’re a smart girl, Becca.” And by smart? I mean manipulative. “Stop messing around with these fuck-boys who don’t give a shit about you because they’re only going to bring you down.”
Which in turn will negatively affect Jameson.
“You’re right.” She smiles. “I almost forgot how good you were at talking me off the ledge.”
Sadly, I wasn’t aware she was on one…
Because I would have pushed her off it.
Talk about a missed opportunity.
She saunters toward me. “No one cares about me and my son like you do.”
Her son? Without a doubt. Hell, I’d die for the kid.
But her? I care about Lola’s dumps more than her.
I only said that shit so she could pull her head out of her ass.
“Becca,” I grunt in warning because she’s got that look in her eyes.
The one she thinks will lure me into her bed when it has the opposite effect. It makes me want to run the fuck out of here as fast as I can because she reeks of desperation.
She doesn’t get the hint, though because she’s standing a little too close for comfort, trying her best to look sexy.
Back in the day she was attractive…beautiful even.
But all I see when I look at her now is a sad excuse of a woman who can’t take care of her son properly because she doesn’t have her shit together. She’s too busy partying and chasing deadbeat guys.
Too busy being selfish.
Once upon a time Becca Dragoni was beautiful…but now she’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Come on, Preston.” She presses her palm to my chest. “I know you still want me.”
The only part of her I want is sitting at the counter eating his ice cream.
And she won’t hesitate to rip him away from me if I don’t play my cards right.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She leans in so close I can smell her cheap perfume. “I bet Jameson does. I’m sure he’d love to have a real family.” Rising on her tiptoes, she nips my earlobe and presses her body flush against mine. “A real dad.”
Fuck. She went straight for the kill shot.
The same one that made me give in last time.
Until I woke up the next morning and felt sick to my stomach because there’s no way in hell I could ever make it work with her.
“Becca—”
“You can pretend I’m her,” she whispers, showing just how low she’ll stoop to get what she wants.
I’d pity her if I didn’t hate her so much.
I bite back the impulse to inform her that won’t be necessary because I have Kit…and the real thing is so much better than the illusion.
And light-years better than what she could ever give me.
But I know Becca well enough to know that not only was the remark a last-ditch effort to get me to fuck her…it was also another one of her tricks designed to make sure I’m not still hung up on Kit.
I have to tread carefully.
“You don’t have to pretend to be her.”
Fuck. I need an excuse to tack onto that. One that will put a stop to this shitshow but not a stop to my visits with Jameson.
I shoot him an apologetic smile because he’s it.
“But Jameson is in the room, so we can’t.”
“Oh.” Instantly, she backs away and I welcome the loss. “I’ll put him to bed.”