My Mom’s Man (Taboo Streets #3)

Chapter One

Reid

I can’t avoid my girlfriend forever.

Or can I?

Finding projects to work on to keep Moonlit Gables running is a never-ending quest. There’s always something to do.

It’s not odd for me to spend long hours in the management office doing tedious tasks like paying bills or handling rent payments.

Plus, maintenance around here is a full-time job.

Each time I get a coat of paint on something, it’s chipping off something else.

There’s no need to feel guilty about my long hours away from the townhome we now share.

I’m not actually avoiding her. Amara’s busy anyway pulling tons of shifts cleaning for the elite on the good side of town.

I’m busy with property management. It’s just how relationships go at times when you’re both busting your ass to make a living .

Like with Brayden’s mom, Joni? What about Maria or Clarissa or Sherry?

With all of them, even my son’s mother, there was a distinct moment in each of those relationships where I’d gone from aching to take care of them with every fiber of my being to…full on resentment. I’d then pour myself into work to avoid dealing with the resentment.

There’s something wrong with me.

A good man would suck it up. That’s kind of our point in life, right? To get with a woman you love and make certain unspoken vows between you to ensure all her needs and wants are met. The desire to take care of her isn’t something that should just vanish into thin air one day.

And yet, it always does.

I should give my buddy, Easton, a call. Being a preacher, he’ll no doubt have sound advice.

Maybe he can just tell me to get my head out of my ass and be a real man for once—in a “man of God” kind of way, of course.

Hell, I’ll even drag myself up to the old church on Sunday and meet with him in person.

What if he can’t fix me?

Overworking myself to avoid a painful conversation isn’t something I can do forever.

Having that conversation would mean telling her to pack up and leave.

Honestly, it shouldn’t be that hard. It’s not like it would come as any surprise.

We haven’t had sex in far too long and I don’t even care anymore.

Things just haven’t been the same since I let them move into Gordon’s old unit and Amara broke her promise to pay rent.

Why did I let them move into that unit?

Because you’re a sucker, man.

And, because Amara has a daughter.

That’s where things get tricky. If it were just Amara, I think I could stand firm in my decision. But, knowing they have nowhere to go, and I’d be putting not one but two people out on the street? Yeah, I can’t do it.

Fuck.

A gust of cool air rushes through the management building and swirls into my office, indicating a visitor.

Since the mailroom is up front, I get a steady stream of visitors each day.

Well, aside from the beer bros. Kevin and Tyler, being the little drunkard princes they are, have to be reminded to pick up theirs usually after about a week.

“Hey, Dad.”

All the angst and turmoil bleed out of me the second Brayden saunters into my office.

Pride fills my chest at the sight of him.

He’s grown so much in the past six months.

Not only did he graduate high school, but now he’s got his own kid on the way.

Unlike myself, Brayden was able to man-up and treats Casey like a queen.

Meanwhile, his dad is hiding in his office like a pussy, so he doesn’t have to see his own woman.

“Bray,” I say, grinning at my son. “What’s new? Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

Brayden plops down in the chair across from me and arches a dark eyebrow at me. “About that… Where’ve you been?”

He may’ve moved out, but he didn’t go far since he lives with our neighbor.

I guess it’s crystal clear why I’m avoiding home.

“Been busy.” I shift my gaze to a faded tattoo on my thumb. Brayden. His name written in script was the first tattoo I got right after his birth. Been getting them ever since and have a badass sleeve of them on my right arm I’m proud of. “You know, since someone left me high and dry.”

Brayden snorts out a laugh. “I’m a phone call away if you need help. You know I’ll drop everything.”

It’s true. Even though he’s working on renovating his own property to lease, he still does whatever I need for him to.

“To me,” he continues, voice turning gentle, “it feels as if you’re hiding from certain people.”

I try not to wince at the truth coming from his mouth but fail miserably.

“That obvious, huh?” I grumble.

“Yup. You’d think she would see it too.”

If she’s noticed, she hasn’t said anything. When I do bump into her, she’s affectionate and chipper. I’m sure a lot of that is her putting on a front for Emma, but still, there’s nothing to indicate Amara is hating where our relationship has gone as much as I do.

“I’m just in a funk,” I tell him. “Nothing to worry about. ”

He spins his new wedding ring around his finger, eyebrows furled together as he studies me. “What does Cole say about the whole thing?”

“Cole’s not a fan of Amara.”

“Is anyone?” He sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, that was mean. But she does sort of take advantage of you, Dad.”

“Amara is a good person,” I argue, though it’s a weak one. “She’s sweet.”

Brayden frowns. “She emotionally manipulates you.”

“How so?”

“She cries to get her way. You fold every time.”

He’s not wrong. I hate it when she cries. Hell, I hate it when anyone cries. It makes me uncomfortable. All I want is to fix them and make it all better. It’s amazing Brayden didn’t turn out to be a spoiled little shit. Thankfully, he rarely cried.

“What does she even bring to the relationship?” Brayden asks, continuing his deep probe into my romantic life. “As someone who loves you and watches closely, I’m having trouble defining what that is.”

How is my eighteen-year-old son wiser than my forty-four-year-old self?

“She’s nice,” I say lamely. “And looks nice.”

Brayden groans, eyes widening. “For real, Dad? That’s not a good reason to stay with someone.

If you asked why I care about Casey, I would have a helluva lot more to say than, ‘she’s nice and looks nice.

’ She’s gorgeous and sweet and sassy. I can’t get her out of my head.

My heart physically aches when she goes to work. I love that woman with my entire soul.”

A spike of envy courses through me.

What would it mean to love someone so wholly as Brayden loves Casey?

I can’t even imagine.

I mean, I love my son deeply, but I’ve never been “in love” with a woman. Not in the way he describes it. I really am fucked up in the head. Easton’s going to need to bring out all his bibles to thump me in the head with in order to fix me.

My phone buzzes on the table. I glance over at it, chest tightening. Once I see it’s Cole texting and not Amara, I relax.

Cole: My knee is feeling better. Let’s hit it again tomorrow at 5.

I quickly reply that I’ll be there before turning my attention back to my son.

“I want that,” I tell Brayden. “What you and Casey have. But no matter how hard I try, it’s not working with me and Amara.”

“So…” He leans forward, boring his gaze into me. “Are you going to break up with her?”

I scrub my palm over my face and shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t owe her anything,” Brayden says gently. “ She does nothing to make you happy. I don’t get why you can’t see that, Dad.”

But what about Emma?

“It’s not that simple,” I murmur. “You’ll understand one day.”

His eyes dart back and forth as he contemplates my words before understanding gleams in his eyes. “You’re staying with her because of Emma? Because you feel guilty?”

Dammit, Brayden.

Why does he always call it like it is with me?

“Yes,” I bite out, irritation burning hot over my flesh.

“They have nowhere to go. Emma already had to switch school districts when Amara moved to Gordon’s unit.

She’s finally settled in. I can’t do that to her.

” I rub at the back of my neck in frustration.

“It’s fine. I just need to think is all. We’re fine.”

Brayden rolls his eyes. “Whenever you say something is fine, it’s most assuredly not fine. Come on, Dad. You can’t do this to yourself. Emma’s not your kid. Not your problem.”

It’s not true, though.

Who keeps groceries in the fridge for Emma? Me.

Who recently took Emma shopping for new running shoes once she made the track team? Also, me.

Who saved Emma when a goose from the pond decided to let itself into the house and scare her half to death? Yeah, that was me.

My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Emma .

Emma: Can you come get me at 4? I got detention and Mom’s working late.

Who picks up Emma when she gets in trouble at school? Always me.

Me: I’ll be there. Dare I ask why this time?

Usually, she gets detention for yapping too long in the hallway and coming in late. For a girl who can run fast enough to secure herself a spot on the varsity track team, she’s slow as fuck when it matters.

Emma: Apparently throat punching is a punishable offense.

“For fuck’s sake,” I hiss, shaking my head. “Detention again. She throat punched someone.”

Brayden chuckles. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Me: What the hell?

Emma: Right?

Me: You’re eighteen now. You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested.

Emma: Who’s gonna arrest me? Your BFF? LOL.

The balls on that girl…

Me: Which class?

Emma: You’ll never guess.

Me: Coach Long again ?

Emma: He’s such a hardass. Gotta go. He’s coming to confiscate my phone now. Kbyeee.

“Now she’s getting her phone taken away,” I say in exasperation. “Unbelievable. I’m pretty sure Coach Long hates her.”

“Coach Long hates everyone.” Brayden smirks at me. “He even hated me, and I was his favorite student.”

I shoot the shit with Brayden a little while longer, thankfully not touching the Amara topic anymore, until he leaves. Then, it’s just me and my thoughts until around four.

The usual resentment toward Amara rears its ugly head. I’m not Emma’s father, yet I take care of her like I am. Everything is left up to me when it comes to that girl. It’s not her fault her mom can’t seem to get her life together.

With anger simmering on the surface, I shoot Amara a text.

Me: Working late again?

It takes her far too long to respond.

Amara: These big houses don’t clean themselves. I’ll grab something to eat later. You two go on and have dinner without me.

We have dinner a lot without her.

If she works so much for these rich fucks, how come I never see a penny of it? Not once has she offered to buy groceries or offer a cent toward a utility bill. This is getting ridiculous. She takes advantage of the fact I own the complex and don’t have to pay rent to myself.

Me: We need to talk.

I don’t send the text, though. Once I go down that road, everything unravels. I’ll be able to go home again without discomfort, but then I’ll be swimming in guilt. Who’s going to pick Emma up from school or make sure she doesn’t eat dinner alone?

Brayden may be right about Amara, but it doesn’t mean I have to end things right now with her. I can push through at least until May when Emma graduates. She’ll go off to college and I won’t feel like such a dick for taking her home away from her.

It’s not forever.

Just for now.

Until then, I’ll work to get my attitude in check. And the next time I think about dating a woman, I’m going for the exact opposite of my usual type.

The savior complex ends after Amara.

I’m done being the hero.