8. Vivi
Vivi
Stifling a yawn, something I’ve discovered rocking a baby makes me do, I hum the little man back to sleep.
We need to give him a name. I can’t keep calling him the baby. It doesn’t seem right. And while little man or bud or whatever works well enough, I want him to have a name.
If only Lisa had named him before she gave him up.
Although I understand why doing that could have made her choice more difficult.
“They’re here.”
Easton’s whisper has me turning around. “They’re early.” It’s barely eight.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t shown up before now.”
“I’ll put him in the bedroom.”
“Okay. I’ll let them in. Bring in anything they’ve brought with them.”
“Give me a second and I’ll help.”
I messaged Laney last night and asked her to bring some of my clothes over this morning. As comfortable as I am in Easton’s clothes, I want my own. And if I’m moving in, I’ll need to get them anyway.
Little man goes down easy. So far he’s proven to be a good sleeper. Hell, he’s good in general. He eats, burps, poops, and sleeps, and the eat, burp, poop part happen quickly. I might be tired but it isn’t because of a fussy baby.
No, my lack of sleep can be placed at Easton’s feet.
Sharing a bed, even with a makeshift cradle between us, proved difficult to deal with. And not because I didn’t want to be there. Just the opposite.
I wanted to be in Easton’s bed without the baby barrier between us.
My libido has been active from the second I saw Easton covered in nothing but a pair of tight swim trunks and water, but put us in the same room and things ramp up—fast.
I’ve gotten used to the constant state of awareness. Except that’s nothing compared to what it’s like when we’re sharing a bed.
And watching him take care of a baby?
Yeah, never mind ovary explosions, think womb implosions and wet panties.
Damn, the man is sexy with his muscles and tats but wrap those around a newborn and I cannot be blamed for my body’s reactions.
“Hey.”
Glancing over my shoulder I see Laney in the doorway, my rolling bag at her feet. “Hi.”
“I bought your suitcase. Tossed your toiletries in too. Vail said he’ll do a couple of trips back and forth today until everything is here.”
“Oh. He doesn’t have to do that.”
“Let him. It’ll help him feel like he’s paid you back.”
Her words have me frowning. “He’s always paying me back.”
“You protected his heart, Vivi, there’s no repaying that.”
My frown goes to a scowl and pulls at my brow. “I would have done it for anyone.”
“And anyone would feel like they owe you for the rest of their lives.”
“I didn’t do much of anything.” Most of what I did was in secret. Vail’s ex had no idea I was keeping track of her or watching her son to make sure he was safe. No one did. Not until the end.
“Vivi, you put yourself in danger for Van, for us. It turned out okay, mostly, but that’s beside the point. There isn’t anything that would be sufficient to say thank you.”
“There is. You’ve all said it, multiple times. A thank you is more than I expected.” Shaking my head, I change the subject because I know no matter what I say I won’t win this argument. “Come on. Leave the bag, I’ll deal with it later. Right now I’m going to give you all something to do that will make us even.”
It was her mention of Van that gave me the idea. They think I saved him and the only thing that equals that is saving the baby Easton insists he needs my help caring for.
And to save him we need to work out who Lisa is and do what needs to be done to make him legally Easton’s.
When we walk into the living room, I find a pile of very familiar boxes lined up behind the couch. “You brought my gear?”
“Yes. Easton said you needed it to do research,” Vail explains as he adds another box to the pile.
My gaze leaves Vail and moves to Easton. “He did, did he?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.
“I figured you could set everything up while we get the rest of your things and head to town for essentials,” Easton says with a shrug like it’s nothing at all that he thought about me.
“I’m on essentials,” Hadley says. “Laney’s coming with me. We’ll make it look like it’s for us so as not to draw attention to the newest Love Beach resident.”
“Quade should go with you,” Easton says.
“No. We won’t get that much. Enough for a few days. You can order a delivery for later in the week. We’re just giving you some breathing room,” Hadley explains. “I put together a list. Sent it to both of you. Check it out and message me anything else you might want.”
“I still think?—”
“You and me both, but my woman is stubborn and she has a point about drawing attention. She and Laney often show up together to grocery shop, so it won’t raise any eyebrows,” Quade says when he walks through the front door, another familiar box in his arms.
Just how much of my stuff did Vail pack?
Returning to the conversation, I ask, “Should I go with them? I’ve done it before.”
“No. We need you here to set up your gear and unpack your things as we bring them in.” Quade lifts the box in his arms. “What room should I put this in?”
My gaze finds Easton but all I get is a shrug. “Your office?” It’s the only room in the house with a desk and chair.
“I’ll move my stuff out of there,” Easton says as he leads Quade out of the living room.
“No. Leave it. I can work around it.”
I don’t tell him I’ll use his computer to help me. He doesn’t need to know anything about what I’m doing. That way, if I somehow fuck up, he can legitimately claim he had no idea what I was doing.
It doesn’t take us long to move all my boxes to the office. And it takes me less time to work out how Vail knew which ones to bring.
I don’t have much in the way of possessions. Clothes, my computer gear and a few books. The clothes and books are all in the room I’ve been using at Vail and Laney’s house. My gear, packed up securely in boxes labeled clearly as work, made Vail’s first trip easy.
And if I’m honest, it’ll take him one more load to move me in completely. I left my secondhand furniture in the apartment when I left LA. I didn’t need it and it wasn’t worth the money it would cost to ship and store it.
“Want me to help you unpack?”
Shaking my head, I look over at Easton. “No. I’ll do it later. I want to talk to you three before I start looking into your past.”
“Should I be worried about that?” he asks with a smirk. “Do I need to lock my closets so you can’t find the skeletons?”
“You can.” I shrug. “I’ll just pick the locks.”
With a snort of laughter, he leads the way out of his office. “Of course you will.”
When we arrive back in the living room it’s to find Quade and Vail unpacking some bags of clothes and toys.
“What’s all this?” Easton asks.
“Stuff we aren’t using for Bennett,” Quade explains as he folds a small blanket. “It’s not much but until you get to the shops or order online, it will do.”
“Thanks, man.” Easton claps him on the back as he moves past him. “Anyone want coffee?”
“I’ll take one. Van was up most of the night.”
“He still doesn’t like storms?” Quade asks. “I thought he’d grown out of that.”
“He did. Then Felicity took off with him and we’re back to hiding under the covers. Day or night.”
I know the woman got what she deserved and is rotting away in a cell somewhere, but right now I want to fuck with her more than I already have. If I could hack into the prison’s security system I could?—
“Don’t.”
My gaze focuses on Easton’s knowing eyes. “What?”
“You can’t touch her.”
“What makes you think?—”
“C’mon. You know I’m right.”
How does he know me that well?
One date and one night together and suddenly he’s a Vivi expert?
“We need to talk about when you might have come into contact with Lisa,” I say to divert his attention.
“Who’s Lisa?” Vail asks.
“The baby’s mother. All we have is a note signed by Lisa and a legal document that gives me guardianship of ‘baby of Lisa’,” Easton explains.
“I think Lisa knew Easton about ten or so years ago. From what she said in her note, her mother was a single mom who Easton gave a get out of jail free card in the way of an open offer of help.”
“Ten years?” Vail asks.
I shrug. “Give or take.”
“My cameras didn’t get a good shot of Lisa when she dropped the baby off, but she looks young, late teens, early twenties at most.” Easton walks over to where we left the folder from the baby’s bag. “Here. Read this, see if you can help me remember.”
We’re quiet for bit while Quade and Vail read Lisa’s letter and the legal paper. It’s Quade who comes up with the first real clue.
“Jenny.”
“Who?” the three of us chorus.
“Jennifer Kincade. She cleaned our first office in Charleston. Got herself into an internship at a legal firm in Atlanta.”
Vail nods. “She used to clean in the early afternoons so she could get her daughter from school.”
“Leelee, she brought her with her at least once a week, sometimes more,” Quade adds.
“Leelee. Lisa?” Easton asks. “Could that be?—”
I’m busy scrolling through an article but the silence has my head lifting.
Easton’s gaze bores into mine. “What have you found?”
“Why do you think I’ve found something?”
“Because you’re you. Of course you’ve found something.”
“Okay.” I lower my gaze back to my phone and read. “Jennifer Kincade was killed in a multi-car accident on the I85 south of Atlanta three months ago. She left behind one daughter.” My gaze meets Eaton’s again. “Lisa Kincade.”
“That tracks with what Lisa wrote in her letter,” he murmurs.
“Do you want me to get an address?”
It takes a while, but finally, Easton answers with a shake of his head. “No.”
“I can?—”
“No. I’ll contact the law firm first thing Monday morning.”
“Or we can drive there today, find a hotel and stay until Monday, drive back Tuesday. It would keep things on the quiet here for a bit longer,” I suggest.
What I don’t say is while he’s driving, I’ll be running down information on Lisa Kincade.