Chapter 9
9
LOTTIE
O nce my afternoon shift is over, I leave Bruno’s and head across the street to the grocery store. There, I fill up a basket with everything I need to make another big batch of my blueberry mini muffins.
Though, after today, I feel like I owe Scott Smolders a little more than baked goods.
“It was nice meeting you,” Summer said, approaching me in the diner after lunch.
“You, too,” I said. “And Sonya is really sweet, by the way.”
”Thank you.”
“It’s wild how similar you two look.”
She grinned at that, then looked at Liam standing next to Scott by the exit. “Just say the word, Lottie,” she said. “And I’ll start the paperwork.”
I took one more look at my son, at my precious boy, and I nodded. “Go ahead,” I said.
With my arms full of grocery bags, I walk home to Third Street. The sound of the television in the living room greets me as I step inside and I pause, expecting the house to be empty.
“Hello?” I say, walking in.
Then, I smile.
Scott is sitting on the couch with Sonya on his left and Liam on his right. The children rest snuggly against him, safely tucked beneath his arms, their eyes closed. Fast asleep.
Scott is, too.
I stand still for several minutes, my heart suddenly beating so fast. The image of them, so precious and wonderful. So perfect and natural.
A family. Like the one I always wanted.
Tears prickle my eyelashes. Just a few days ago, Scott was nowhere near our lives, but today…
I sigh, so grateful. So thankful that he’s here… and Mark is not.
Careful, Lottie.
You’ve never been this lucky.
The thought sobers me up, and I continue forward into the kitchen. Setting the bags down softly, I work on unpacking them as quietly as possible and setting out the bowls and pans needed to make the muffins.
“Hey.”
I look up from my mixing bowl and smile at Scott as he walks in. “Hi,” I say, smirking. “Taking a nap?”
He chuckles as he rubs his eyes. “Your couch is surprisingly comfortable.”
“So it would seem.”
“Sorry,” he says. “We stopped by to grab the rabbit, but then Liam wanted to show off the rest of his toys. Sonya got excited, and I didn’t have the heart to pull ‘em back across the street.”
I smile. “I wouldn’t, either.”
“Then Liam’s favorite show came on, so we all gathered on the couch and things got sleepy after that.”
“It’s okay,” I say again. “Are they still out?”
“Yeah,” he says, coming to stand by me at the counter. “Sonya’s sure to wake up any minute now, though. She never naps for too long.” He grins at my bowl. “Muffins?”
“Muffins.”
“Looking forward to them.”
“Scott.”
“Hm?”
I set down my mixing spoon and turn to face him. “I want to thank you. Again.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I do.” I take a breath, keeping those prickling tears at bay. “No one... no one’s ever helped me before. Not like you have. I’ve been more or less on my own since I was eighteen. And I know I should have done something about Mark months ago. It’s just that I have no one else?—”
“It’s okay, Lottie,” Scott says.
“No, it’s not. You... you just moved here. You have a daughter. You’re starting a business. The last thing you should have to deal with is my baggage.”
“And you...” Scott rests his hands on my face, taking me by surprise, “are sweet.” He kisses my left cheek. “And beautiful.” He kisses my right cheek. “And not nearly as undesirable as you think.”
I freeze, my eyes opening wider. “Oh.”
For a moment, we stand still, staring, barely breathing. Then, Scott tilts his head slightly and closes the short gap between our mouths.
It’s a soft kiss, but one powerful enough to shake my knees. I inhale deeply, taking in his masculine scent, willing myself not to fall as he kisses me again.
I rest my hands on his hips, needing to hold on as I kiss him back. Scott moves one hand from my face, his arm curling around my waist. We push closer together, our bodies touching, and when our tongues meet, my core trembles with a deep urge. I kiss him, taste him, full of want and need.
Scott wraps his other arm around me, pulling me closer, and I feel his need pressing hard against my belly. “Shit,” he whispers, breaking the kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s…” I catch my breath. “I wanted you to…”
Our lips graze. “Good,” Scott says. “Because I’ve wanted to kiss you since I tasted your muffins.”
He crushes his mouth on mine again. I gasp with sensation, my stomach leaping as I feel his strong arms tighten around me. He twists us toward the table and pushes me against it. My head spins in a dizzy rush and I cling to him as he slides a hand up my thigh and it disappears beneath the skirt of my uniform.
The oven beeps.
“What was that?” Scott asks.
I smile. “Just my, uh... oven pre-heating.”
He chuckles. “It felt warmer in here.”
We kiss again, eager to ignore it, needing more, when another sound creeps into the room... from outside.
A motorcycle.
Mark’s motorcycle.
“No,” I say, my stomach dropping. “It’s him.”
Scott takes a step back, his eyes on the windows. I push off the table, wiping my tender lips and pushing my skirt back down as I listen. A block away. Maybe less.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say without thinking.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Scott says.
My heart skips at that. “I’ll see what he wants,” I say. “Stay with the kids?”
Scott nods.
I step outside onto the porch as Mark pulls into the driveway. His bike lurches to a shaky stop, and he nearly loses his footing entirely as he shuffles off of it.
And to think, I used to swoon at the sight of this.
“What are you doing here, Mark?” I ask.
Mark grins as he stomps across the lawn. “I heard a rumor,” he says, his eyes barely visible behind his unkempt hair, “that my girl was getting all cozy with some new guy. Thought I’d swing by and see for myself.”
My nose curls from here. “Are you drunk?”
“What if I am?” He scoffs, stopping at the porch stairs. “Is it true?”
I don’t answer.
“What?” he asks. “What are you pissed at me for this time?”
“Are you serious? Do you have any idea what could have happened to your son yesterday? Do you even care?”
“Oh, come on, Lot. He’s fine!”
“Do you know that?”
He pauses. For a split second, I think he might actually care, but I know better now. “Well, he is, isn’t he?” he asks.
“No thanks to you.” I take a step back, the stench of him too overwhelming. “Go home, Mark.”
“I wanna see my son.”
“No.”
“Liam!” he shouts past me.
“No.” I stand my ground. “It’s over, Mark. I’m talking to a lawyer.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m getting full custody and you will never see him again.”
Mark grows taller, his expression suddenly very sober. “I want to see my boy, Lottie,” he says, stabbing every word.
“No,” I say.
He steps forward, then stops as the door opens behind me.
I spin around. “Scott, no?—”
He walks out and plants himself between me and Mark. “She told you to go home,” he says. “You should listen to her.”
Mark cracks a smile. “So, it’s true,” he says, his eyes sharpening. “You are whoring yourself out to the neighborhood.”
“Mark,” I say, “go home.”
He doesn’t budge. He bobs his head at Scott. “How’s it going, guy?” he asks him. “Making yourself at home in my house?”
“It’s not your house,” I say, willing my voice to stop shaking. “Please leave.”
“Not without my son,” he says. “Liam!”
“She said leave,” Scott says.
“Liam! Come out here. Now!”
Liam appears in the doorway behind us.
“No.” I choke, frozen in fear. “Liam. Go to your room, sweetie.”
Mark drops to one knee and extends his hand. “Come on, buddy,” he says. “Come to your daddy now. It’s okay.”
Liam takes a little step forward.
“No—” I gasp.
Liam stops and hides behind Scott’s leg.
Mark flexes his jaw. “Liam,” he says again. “Come here. Now.”
Liam clings to Scott’s pants, his little eyes peeking out.
I stand back, my heart squeezing so tightly.
“It’s time for you to go,” Scott says, unblinking.
Mark rises to his feet. He rolls his fists. I fear he might take a swing at Scott. Or at me. But he steps back toward his bike instead.
“This ain’t over,” he says., spitting on the grass. “You can’t keep him from me.”
“Yes, I can,” I say, finding my voice.
He stomps away.
I drop to my knee. “Liam, honey,” I say beneath the roar of the bike. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”
I guide him back in, aware of Scott’s protective stance on the porch. It’s not until Mark is long gone, the sound of his motorcycle a distant memory, that Scott comes back inside. He locks the door behind him before returning to the living room to check on us and Sonya.
Then the two of us walk back to the kitchen together, and I fall into his arms. Scott holds me close and kisses my forehead; the strong anchor I so desperately need.
“Scott,” I whisper in his embrace. “Will you stay with us tonight?”
He looks me in the eye and nods.