Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (116 page)

“And what seems like me?” I countered, picking up the coffee cup once more and holding it between my hands.

He peered at my thoughtfully. “Teacher… yeah, I could see you as a teacher. You’re good with kids. I remember watching you with your sister once, Ivy, right?” When I nodded, he continued. “I thought I’d never seen anyone handle a little kid so well before. You’ll make a great mom one day, Row,” he looked at me wistfully.

I glanced away and out to the parking lot. I didn’t want to talk about this.

I brought the lid of the coffee cup to my lips and let the warm liquid heat my suddenly bone-chilled body.

“Did I say something wrong?”

I turned to look at him and shook my head.

“You don’t seem okay,” he whispered. “Are you…?” He left the question hanging.

“Having regrets? No,” I rubbed at my tired eyes, “it was just a rough night.” After my mini meltdown—minus actual tears—I’d showered and climbed into bed with Tristan. I’d needed to surround myself with the comfort of the kids. If I’d shut myself up in my room, I think I would’ve went crazy.

“Well,” he started, and I swore a slight pink color stained his cheeks, “allow me to make tonight not so rough.”

I raised a brow.

“Come over for dinner… please,” he tacked on, like he thought the ‘please’ would make me give in.

“You know I can’t,” I frowned. “Ivy and—”

“It can be an early dinner then, and I’ll make plenty, so you’ll have leftovers to take home to them. Or you can bring them with you. I wouldn’t mind. It would limit my time kissing you,” he winked, “but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“I’ll need to go home and change, but I can be there in two hours.” That would give me plenty of time to shower, change, and give myself a much needed pep talk, because I was going to be at Trenton’s place… just the two of us… oh, God.

Trent’s grin was so wide that crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. He hopped off my car and started to back away. “I guess I better figure out what I’m making.”

“I would’ve thought you’d already have a plan,” I retorted.

He shrugged. “I figured you’d say no.”

With that, he turned on his heel and jogged down the lot to where his black car was parked.

I continued to sit on the trunk of my car, drinking the delicious caramel coffee, and wondering what the heck I’d gotten myself into.

My hair was clean and dry, hanging in a straight sheet down my back. I wore a pair of jeans, a loose black sweater that hung slightly off my shoulder, and an old pair of boots that had certainly seen better days, but were so comfortable I refused to get rid of them.

The kids Christmas break didn’t start for another week, so there was still a good hour before they’d be home, and they were used to being here alone anyway. Not that they were
technically
alone, since my mom was here, but still.

I brushed my teeth for the fourth time since I’d been home and forced my fingers through my hair. My heart was racing in my chest, at the possibility of what might be about to go down between Trent and I. I sort of felt like a cocky dude, assuming sex was on the menu, but after the kiss in the car… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t scared though.

I hadn’t had sex, except that one time so long ago. I was sure Trent had had plenty of practice and knew exactly what he was doing. I, on the other hand, was pretty clueless. One time hardly made me a master. Sure, there were times over the years when guys had expressed interest in me, but I couldn’t even make myself kiss them, let alone have sex. In the back of my mind, there was always… well, there was always Trent.

“Stop it, Rowan,” I glared at my reflection in the mirror. “Stop this right now. It’s only dinner. That’s all.”

Oh, God. Now I was talking to myself in the mirror. I was destined for the loony bin. Shit.

I forced myself out of the bathroom, shrugged on my coat, and grabbed my purse. I was almost out the door when I looked back and saw my mom passed out on the couch—sans trashcan.

I rolled my eyes, and strode back inside, grabbing the waste bin and sitting it beside her. I didn’t want to come home and have to clean up her vomit.

I guessed the sound of the trashcan being sat down woke her, because her groggy hazel eyes opened to meet mine. “What the fuck are you doing leaning over me like that?”

I pointed to the trashcan. I didn’t owe her an explanation. I didn’t owe her
anything
.

“You’re a worthless piece of shit! You know that!” She called after me.

I turned around, flipping her off. “Only because I’m your spawn,” I spat. “So, you would know.”

“You little bitch,” she snarled, her greasy hair hanging limply in her eyes as she struggled to get off the couch and come at me.

I slammed the door closed and ran for my car, speeding away before she could make it outside. A part of me hoped she’d come outside and be so drunk she’d forget how to get back inside, then maybe she’d freeze to death. Fuck. I was a horrible person. What kind of sane person
wishes
their mother would die? The sick kind, that’s who. I was so going to hell.

Trent had texted me directions to his place, since he no longer lived at his family’s mansion. As big as that place was I was surprised he hadn’t stayed. Surely he had plenty of privacy there.

I drove through town and turned into a nice neighborhood lined with brick three-story townhomes. My mouth gaped open. What kind of twenty-one year old guy needed a place like this?

I pulled along the road and checked my phone to make sure I’d remembered the right house number. When I was sure I had it correct, I drove forward and pulled into the driveway. I sat for a moment, a bit scared to get out and knock on the door.

“You have nothing to be scared of, Rowan,” I mumbled to myself.

Great, not only did I talk to myself in the mirror, but now I did it in the car too.

I stepped out and locked my car—although, in this nice neighborhood, I doubted anyone would want to break into this jalopy.

I bound up the steps to the front door with a pep I didn’t really feel. I reached out and hesitantly knocked on the door. No sounds greeted me, and when more than thirty-seconds had passed without Trent appearing, I pushed the doorbell.

I heard Trent talking, but no one answered, so I was a bit confused about what was going on.

“Stay away from there, Dean!” He yelled as the door swung open.

“Hi,” I said, but he wasn’t looking at me, but over his shoulder.

That’s when I saw the baby.

Holy shit.

Trent had a kid.

A fucking
baby
.

My throat closed up. He had a kid with some girl that was probably a whole lot prettier and nicer than I was. I wondered why he wasn’t with her and why he was wasting time with me.

I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I turned around and ran towards my car.

Trent called after me, but I didn’t stop.

I went to unlock my car, but I couldn’t find my keys. Where the hell were my keys? I patted my pockets, looked in my purse, and they weren’t there. So much for my quick escape.

The door to his townhouse was opening again and I turned to see him running down the steps with the drooling little monster in his arms. Normally, I went gaga over a baby, but seeing Trent’s offspring from some whore was making me so angry I couldn’t see straight.

“Stay away from me!” I seethed, ready to punch him in the nose if he took one step closer.

“Row, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dean. I forgot I was supposed to watch him.”

The baby—which was really more a toddler—blew spit bubbles at me and waved. I hated to admit it, but he was pretty cute.

“You should’ve told me you had a kid!” I exclaimed, pointing at the child in his arms. “I deserved to know!”

Trent’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. “You think Dean is my kid?”

I gave him a ‘duh’ look, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not dumb, Trenton.”

“No, not dumb,” he laughed, “but jumping to conclusions can get you in trouble. Dean isn’t my kid.”

“He’s not?” I hated the fact that those words made me breathe easier.

“No,” Trent chuckled. “He’s my nephew.”

“Nephew…?” Oh. I’m a colossal idiot and just made a fool of myself.

“Yeah, this is Dean,” he pointed to the baby, outfitted in a red plaid jumper, “Trace’s son.”

I blushed profusely, embarrassed by my overreaction.

“Oh… I’m sorry… I thought…”

“I know what you thought,” he laughed, clearly amused by my humiliation. “Anyway, when I invited you to dinner, I’d forgotten I told Trace I’d babysit so he and Olivia could have a night out. I hope you don’t mind…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

Dean started making a buzzing noise with his lips.

“No, I don’t mind. Can I… Can I hold him?” I reached my arms out. My demeanor had completely changed once I knew the child wasn’t his.

Trent quickly deposited the baby in my arms. “Maybe I can cook now. This little gremlin,” he smacked Dean’s butt, “keeps trying to break Bartholomew out of his cage.”

I laughed. “The ferret?”

“Yep,” Trent nodded, heading back inside, assuming I’d follow—which of course I did.

The townhouse was really pretty, with shiny wood floors and light blue walls. It was airy and welcoming. There was a formal living room to my right, but it was empty. I followed Trent towards the back of the house, past a set of stairs, to where it opened up to a kitchen, dining room, and family room. The furniture was dark and manly, but everything was surprisingly neat and clean. There was nothing lingering out in the open that shouldn’t be there. I didn’t know why I expected a mess.

“So… where’s Bartholomew?” I asked. At this point, a part of me still believed he’d made up the pet ferret thing. He pointed to a cage in the corner, which was obscured by the large entertainment center. “I keep him in there when I’m down here, and he has a cage in my room.”

“He gets lonely?” I laughed.

“
I
get lonely,” he said with a straight face. “You wouldn’t believe what a good snuggling partner a ferret is.”

“You’re a strange guy,” I continued to laugh as Dean squirmed in my arms. I finally was forced to put him down before I dropped him. He immediately toddled over to Bartholomew’s cage and tried to undo the latch. Trent hadn’t been lying, the kid really wanted the ferret out.

“Now that you’re here,” Trent said as he looked through the refrigerator, “you can get Bartholomew out if you want and let Dean pet him.”

“Uh…” I didn’t know why, but I felt a bit frightened of the furry brown and white creature peering lazily at me from a hammock in its cage.

“Oh, come on, Rowan,” Trent goaded me, as he closed the refrigerator door, setting items on the granite counter, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of him. He won’t bite… if you’re nice.”

I took a deep breath and stepped forward. I moved Dean behind me and opened the cage. The furry creature hopped out of the hammock and hurried to the open door. I grabbed him before he could jump out. He was surprisingly light and his fur was soft. I looked down at his face, and he was actually pretty cute.

“Come on, Dean,” I called to the toddler as I took a seat on the couch. I held Bartholomew in one hand and reached down to help Dean up with the other.

“Mew Mew,” Dean smiled up at me, displaying small white teeth as he pointed at the squirming creature in my hands.

“He can’t say Bartholomew,” Trent called, “just go with it.”

I rolled my eyes and didn’t reply. Did he really think I couldn’t figure out what the kid meant by Mew Mew?

“Soft.” Dean petted Bartholomew with a surprising gentleness. “Kiss.” He lowered his head and kissed the furry critter on top of his small head. Bartholomew seemed used to the attention and didn’t move. He’d stilled in my arms and I thought he might have fallen asleep. When I woke up this morning this was so not how I’d seen my day going. I mean, who expects to cuddle with a ferret? I still felt a bit bad about jumping to the conclusion Dean was Trent’s son without asking questions. They looked so much alike though. Dean had thick dark hair and his smile had Wentworth written all over it. I guessed Trace and Trent had some strong genes. There wasn’t anything about Dean that didn’t look like a Wentworth… except maybe his slightly upturned nose. He was a cute kid with expressive green eyes… he did seem to drool a lot though.

Dean crawled onto my lap and continued to pet Bartholomew with his chubby little hand. “Mew Mew,” he whispered again. Looking up at me, he asked, “Who you?”

Dean seemed to realize for the first time that I was a stranger. He was still burrowed against my chest though, and seemed to have no plans to leave. Unlike most kids, he obviously wasn’t afraid to get cozy with a stranger.

“My name is Row,” I answered him.

“Row?” He repeated, looking up at me with big green eyes.

“That’s right,” I smiled, lightly tickling his stomach and making him giggle.

I looked up and my gaze connected with Trent’s. He was looking at me wistfully, and my heart raced in my chest knowing what he was seeing and probably imagining.