Simple Man (14 page)

When he finished his opening song the bar erupted with applause. The girl who’d been watching him so raptly appeared almost breathless. Sometimes he had that effect on women when he played, but it never panned out to anything more than a quick fling. Once he was off the stage, they saw he was just an average guy and the appeal wore off.

His first set ended around eight fifteen. He called Tucker to check on things. Logan was asleep and he and Lisa were watching a movie.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he took his bottle of water outside to get some air before his second set. He was standing at the curb when a voice startled him.

“Hi.”

He turned as saw the girl from the bar step out of the shadows. “Hi.”

“I really like your voice. You’re good.”

“Thanks.”

She stepped close and batted her eyes. She was sending off signals she was interested, but he wouldn’t be able to hang out afterward like he usually did after a show. He wanted to get back to Logan in time for his feeding.

“Do you play here often?” When she stepped close, her breasts rubbed against his arm. “Ooh, I love your ink. I just got a tattoo last week. Wanna see?”

“Sure.”

She lifted up the bottom of her shirt, exposing a flat, tanned belly. Around her pierced navel was one of those dandelion wish things with all the seeds flying off as if caught in a breeze. It was actually decent work. Nice to see something other than a tramp stamp on a girl. She definitely had the body to pull it off too.

“Pretty.”

She grinned and shifted even closer. Her fingers ran over his triceps. “You got other tattoos?”

“A few.”

“I bet.” Her eyes stared up at him. “You wanna go over there and show me?”

His dick twitched.  Sometimes women made it so simple. “I got another set to do in five minutes.”

“Five minutes is all I need.”

He stared at her for a moment, considering the offer. She was hot—a little easy—but definitely hot. He nodded and she wrapped her small hand around his arm and dragged him around the corner.

Next thing he knew his back was against the brick exterior wall of the bar and she was against his front, tongue in his mouth, hand stroking his chest.

“Mm, you’re a good kisser.”

So was she. His hand cupped the back of her neck and he deepened the kiss. Her hand coasted down his abs and over his belt buckle, settling at the bulge in his pants. He pressed his hips forward, filling her palm. She giggled and squeezed.

Her hair smelled like flowers. He reached for her small waist and glided his palm up until he found her breasts. They were firm, too firm to be real, but he squeezed them all the same.

She moaned into his mouth and draped a leg over his hip. A door opened and the sound of bottles falling had them jumping apart. They were both breathing heavily. He looked at his watch. “Fuck. I gotta go back in.”

She nodded. “What time are you playing to?”

“Midnight, but I have somewhere I need to be afterward. I have another break in about an hour.”

“Wanna meet here then?”

Did a bear shit in the woods?
“Sure, cutie.” He turned to head back in and paused. “Oh, what’s your name?”

She giggled. “Kate.”

And just like that his whole mood faltered. Guilt, for some strange reason, surfaced inside of him and he felt dirty as if he’d been doing something wrong. Images of Kate his social worker filled his head. She’d never be caught making out with a musician she didn’t know behind a bar.

That’s because she’s stuck up
. He mentally frowned at himself. No, it was because she was respectable.

He went back to the stage and started his second set. Kate the barfly sat watching him with googly eyes. He tried to look anywhere but at her. When his next break came he called Tucker again, then went to the men’s room in an attempt to lose his little groupie. She’d moved on by the time he started his third set, flirting with some guy in a hat by the bar. When he wrapped up for the night, thankfully she was gone.

The whole way home he berated himself for being a pussy. He was fucking horny and could have gotten laid tonight if he wasn’t being such a bitch. The more he thought about Kate the barfly and Kate the social worker the angrier he got.

He didn’t owe his social worker anything. She was reporting on him for Christ’s sake. For all he knew she could wind up being his enemy in all this. Out of everyone involved in his current situation, she posed the greatest threat to his custody of Logan. She could totally screw everything up if she wanted to. But she wouldn’t do that. Somehow he knew she wouldn’t. He really was starting to believe Kate wanted to see him succeed at parenting.

Something changed over the past few weeks. There was something about the way she looked at him that was new. She didn’t talk to him like a loser anymore. Was that because he stuck up for himself and showed her he wasn’t going to be treated like crap and kiss her ass just so she would give him a good report? Or maybe it was the way he was with Logan that impressed her. Either way, he was really digging the new Kate.

He wondered when he’d see her again. The other Kate from the bar was nothing but fake boobs and a blurred face in his mind. He focused on Kate the social worker.

As he drove, he thought of her shiny blond hair and her brown eyes. She had great lashes. He liked that she didn’t wear a lot of makeup. But he also liked when she wore that shiny stuff on her lips. It made him want to kiss her there.

Whoa!
Okay, yeah, he wanted to kiss her. So what? He could fantasize. It wasn’t like she’d ever know.

She was a petite little thing, but also not a stick. It was hard to get an idea about her body when she always wore cardigans. They sort of hid her curves. She had tiny feet and tiny hands, but a nice set of hips on her. She was built like a real woman, not one of those bobble head, starving-to-death girls that may as well be boys with breasts.

What would it be like to fuck someone like Kate, all prim and proper? Would she want it gentle or kind of rough? It was always the quiet ones guys had to watch out for. Mmm, imagining a kinky Kate was a shit load of fun.

When he pulled into Sunny Acres he was totally hard. Fuck. He thought of baseball, solved a few math problems, but nothing helped. He should’ve never let his imagination get away from him. He hadn’t even jerked off since bringing Logan home. It just felt wrong. Which was stupid, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, not even in the shower, knowing the little guy was in the next room.

He pulled into his lot and the trailer was dim. Blue flashes from the television flickered on the other side of the blinds. Everything looked under control.

He grabbed both his guitars and headed to the door. As he entered, Lisa and Tucker jumped apart. Oh, come on! Not on his couch!

“Hey, man, what’s up,” Tucker said all too fast.

“Hey.”

Lisa busied herself by looking for her shoes and straightening her clothing.  Shane gave her a moment by going into the bedroom to check on Logan. He placed his guitars against the wall and went to the crib. His heart plummeted.

Jesus! Logan was face down. Shane quickly lifted him and turned him in his arms. He was going to kick someone’s ass!

Logan startled then sighed and nestled into his hold. He went to the bedroom door. “You put him to bed on his stomach,” he hissed. “He could have died!”

They both turned and frowned at him. “No, I didn’t,” Lisa said defensively.

“Well, that’s how he was lying!”

“She put him on his back, Shane. I watched her.”

“Maybe he rolled over. When I went to check on him he was on his back. He must have turned.”

Shane stilled. “He doesn’t know how to flip over.”

“Yes he does. He was doing it all night when we had him on the floor.”

A humongous sense of loss washed through him. “What? He rolled over and I missed it?”

“You never saw him do that?” Tucker asked.

“No.” Shane looked at Logan who was sleeping soundly. He wanted him to do it now so he could see. What did this mean about the sleeping on the back rule? Was he supposed to watch him at all times and continuously move him off his belly when he fell asleep like that?

His last class with Dr. Haughenschlaugger was Monday. He’d ask her then. But what was he supposed to do in the meantime? He’d have to keep an eye on him.

He placed Logan back in his crib—on his back—and went to say goodbye to Lisa and Tucker. He gave Lisa thirty bucks and told her thank you. Then he heated up a bottle and went to feed Logan. The little punk was back on his belly again.

Chapter Ten

“Yo, Shane, you got a call!”

Shane removed his earplugs and walked away from the jackhammer pounding a few feet away. “What?”

His foreman pointed to the general call box indicating someone was on the other line. He headed in that direction, through a cloud of cement dust and picked up the red phone.

“Hello?” he shouted over the sound of construction and traffic passing by.

“Mr. Martin?”

“Yes?”

“This is Miss Jill from Kiddie Academy.”

He plugged his gloved finger in his other ear as anxiety stiffened his limbs. “Yeah?”

“Would you be able to come pick up Logan? He’s hasn’t been himself today. He feels a little warm, but doesn’t have a fever. I didn’t know if he might be coming down with something, but I figured I’d give you a call so you could come get him.”

“He’s sick?” Panic welled up inside of him like erupting lava.

“Well, he isn’t his typical, happy self. You might want to call his pediatrician and see about getting him in there.”

The world fell away as his brain quickly organized. Logan’s appointment with the pediatrician wasn’t until next week. Technically he didn’t have a doctor yet. He had to go get him and make sure everything was okay. Dr. Haughenschlaugger said go with his gut.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

He hung up the phone and didn’t return to what he’d been working on. Instead he went right to his general foreman and told him he had to go—family emergency.

The ride home took forever. He hit every red light and got stuck behind every geriatric driver on the road. Forty-five minutes passed between the time he hung up with Miss Jill and the time he pulled into the school.

The secretary at the desk buzzed him in. “Hi, I’m here to pick up Logan.”

“Sign here and I’ll go get his teacher.”

He scribbled his name quickly and waited for Logan. His patience was beyond frayed. What if something was really wrong? Dr. Haughenschlaugger said him sleeping on his belly was fine so long as he was able to lift his head and turn himself back over, but what if she was wrong?

Miss Jill appeared carrying Logan who was nuzzling her shoulder. Shane immediately saw what she was talking about. He didn’t look like himself. He held out his arms and she handed Logan to him.

Shane checked over his little body. “Hey, big man. You not feeling too well?”

“He’s been a bit off today.”

Shane looked at the teacher, waiting for her to tell him what was wrong with his baby, but she didn’t. “What do you think it is?”

She tilted her head and ran a hand over Logan’s forehead. “Babies have their ups and downs. It could be gas. He could be coming down with something. He may even be cutting some teeth.”

“But the book says that doesn’t happen until around six months.” The book was the Bible. Why would it say six months if in reality kids started getting teeth at three months?

“Well, six months is the norm, I think, but I’ve seen teeth break around this age plenty of times.”

Shane peeked down at Logan’s tiny, flushed face. He looked sad. “Does your mouth hurt, buddy?”

“If he isn’t feeling better by tomorrow I’d call his pediatrician. Keep an eye on his temperature and if you feel any teeth beneath his gums or see an abnormal amount of drool, you may want to give him some Tylenol or a cool washcloth to suck on.”

Shane nodded and gathered up Logan’s things. He packed him in the car and continuously felt his little head. Logan fell asleep on the way home. When Shane carried him in he didn’t stir, so he put him down for a nap.

It was already four o’clock, but he called the pediatrician anyway. They also said it could be teeth, but if he didn’t seem himself by morning they suggested he call back and bring him in for a check-up.

He hated the sense of helplessness. As Logan slept he paced the trailer, unsure what to do. He watched some television and when dinner came and went he made a bottle. The little guy had to eat.

He went in his room and woke him, but Logan didn’t seem to have an appetite. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. He looked tired. When he fell back to sleep Shane carried him to the crib, but as soon as he laid him down he started crying so Shane held him.

They watched a few episodes of
Hoarders
. Around nine o’clock Shane was sweating. He touched Logan’s head and cursed. He was burning up.

On instinct he went to the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in cool water. After wringing it out, he gently wiped Logan’s brow. He whined and fussed, but Shane didn’t know what else to do.

He looked in the baby book under fever. It said a fever was a sign that the body was fighting off an infection. It suggested not overdressing your baby when his temperature was high and the book was very adamant about keeping him hydrated.

Shane undressed Logan. His little legs were on fire. Even his tummy was hot. When he checked his diaper it was bone dry. He really started to panic the more he read.

The book said a fever should be permitted to do its job so long as the child didn’t appear listless, uncomfortable, or unable to eat. If the baby wasn’t taking in fluids the fever needed to be brought down. The book suggested Tylenol like Miss Jill had recommended.

He tried to get Logan to take a bottle again, but he wanted nothing to do with it. He also tried a bottle of cool water. Logan drank a few swallows, but then lost interest.

He needed to get to the pharmacy and get a thermometer and something to bring down his fever. Rather than dress him back in his clothes, he only put him in a t-shirt and a diaper.