Chapter 5
Payton
“ S he’s beautiful, just like her mama.”
Rhyland’s words have been stuck on repeat in my brain since he let them slip from his mouth yesterday.
Did he actually mean them? Does Rhyland Cole think I’m beautiful, or was he just being nice?
No, there was definitely sincerity in his voice and in his eyes.
God, those eyes are gorgeous. I could’ve gotten lost in them like the good ole days.
It’s not just his words, though, that have been playing over and over.
Every time I close my eyes, I see him clutching Gabby to his chest as if she were his own.
I was actually jealous of my daughter in his arms. Someone better call the crazy police to come get me.
And as weird as it sounds, just seeing him holding a baby set me on fire.
I definitely saved that memory aside in my spank bank for later.
It sent his hotness radar up to the max, which I didn’t even realize was possible.
Who knew something so simple as holding my child could turn me on?
Gabby kicks her feet toward me, the little wiggle worm she is, almost as if she’s shouting, “Mommy, look at me!”
“I think no matter what, Rhyland got something right yesterday—you, little miss thing, are beautiful. Aren’t you, sweet girl?
” I blow bubbles on her belly, and she coos.
Ugh, we are so close to a giggle. So close, I curse at the sky.
I’ve been trying so hard to get her to laugh, but nothing seems to work just yet.
My gaze is down toward Gabby where she lies on top of a spread-out blankie on my bed between my legs, so I don’t notice Mom entering the room. I swear she was a spy in a former lifetime with the way she can just sneak into places without being noticed.
It’s her laughter that alerts me to her presence as she observes Gabby and me.
Is that laundry in her hand?
“Mom,” I whine more than I intended to. “I told you, I’m an adult and can do my laundry.”
She ignores me, waving her hand in the air and heading toward the dresser in the corner.
“Nonsense.” Mom sets the pile down on top before opening drawers up and placing items inside, starting at the bottom drawer.
I don’t know if that’s even the correct place she’s putting things.
Reaching for the top drawer, I realize I’m too late to tell her she doesn’t need to open that one when she shrieks.
“Oh my God, Mom.” I’m quick on my feet, at least, and shuffle around on the bed carefully, not disturbing Gabby, when I rush over and slam the open drawer shut.
My overdramatic slamming upsets Gabby, and she cries. “Oh no, I’m sorry, baby girl.” In a flash, I’m back by her side and scoop her into my arms. My voice is soft as I reassure her it’s okay, calmly swaying her from side to side.
I look over to find my mother clearly traumatized by the deer-in-headlights look still on her features.
Can’t say I blame her, though. I know my daughter is only a few months old, but I worry about the day that I might open a drawer and see what sort of sex toys she might be holding. That thought alone makes me cringe.
“Mom,” I say, attempting to break the tension, even though, honestly, I’m not even sure how to respond.
Another moment of awkward silence washes over us before she clears her throat.
“Honey, I understand. You’re young, and I know well—” She clears her throat. “—how I got my grandbaby.”
My cheeks burn at the insinuation, and I hope, before she finishes that next train of thought, that the Hellmouth will open up and swallow me whole, halting all conversations about my sex life—or lack thereof, honestly.
It’s not just a lack post-divorce, because, well, I couldn’t do anything for six weeks post-delivering Gabby.
But it had been months since Joel had touched me.
I always thought it was me, but I realized he didn’t need me when he was clearly getting it somewhere else.
It’s not like I use those items in that drawer often, especially now that I’m living with my mom again.
They’re there for standby, just in case.
I mean, who the hell would want a young single mom with a few extra pounds that I still haven’t lost since my pregnancy?
“Mom, wherever you were planning on taking this, can we not, please.” I pause. “Like ever.”
“You forget I gave birth to three children, Payton.”
“Mom,” I hiss. Dear Lord, please swallow me up now. I’m waiting.
A beat of silence passes between us before she speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”
I roll my eyes because of course she wants to talk more. “Anything, as long as it’s not sex related.”
“Are you ready to get back out there?”
Her question catches me so off guard. I’m not sure what I expected her to ask me, but it surely wasn’t that. “What?”
“I’m only saying you’re young—”
“Yes, we established that,” I say sarcastically.
Mom frowns. “You’re beautiful and single.” Is she seriously just going to list all my attributes here? “You could get out there, and then you wouldn’t need to use those…” She trails off.
Part of me wants to add to the awkwardness of the situation and finish her sentence and say “sex toys.” Maybe say it so loud my brothers can hear it at their houses, too. Instead, I choose to be the bigger person and just ignore her completely.
I turn back to my daughter, who I’ve laid back down on the blanket, and tickle her belly now that she’s calmed down. “I think Grammy has lost her mind, don’t you? Yes, you do. Yes, you do.”
The bed dips down under my mother’s weight as she sits on the edge.
“I’m just saying it’s okay to put this all behind you and move on. Joel has clear—”
I cut her off. “Enough,” I say firmly but not raising my voice to scare Gabby again.
“There’s a difference between moving on and what Joel did.
” I refuse to cry over this. God, I’m pathetic, letting this man get to me without even getting to me.
I push my shoulders back and put the brave front back up that I’m getting so good at keeping up with others.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for my shift at Tilley’s. ”
Mom reaches forward and places her hand over mine. “Payton, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” Two simple words that I hope will end this madness. I don’t want her to explain further because then it means we will keep talking about him, and he deserves no more of my energy or tears.
God, talk about a total one-eighty in conversations. Honestly, I think I’d rather talk to her about those toys in the top drawer than talk more about Joel Taylor.
“I’ll change her and bring her downstairs before jumping in the shower.” I will say I’m thankful for my mom who volunteered to watch Gabby during my shifts. It’s been years since my father died, but I love knowing that she won’t be alone.
“Here, I’ve got Gabby. You get ready,” she pleads, clearly feeling terrible. Who am I to say no to her?
Mom gathers Gabby in her blanket before walking over to grab a diaper and a new outfit from her area. Just before walking out the bedroom door, Mom pauses. “I’m so proud of you, Pay. You’re an amazing mom, full of so much love, and I pray that someday you find someone deserving of your heart.”
“Thanks,” I manage. Fuck off, Connie Mosby, for making me choke up when I’m trying to be mad.
“Now, go get ready for your first shift. Who knows, maybe you’ll find yourself a man to sweep you off your feet there. It happened to your brother. Maybe it’ll happen to you.”
I cackle. Yes, Ollie and Hollie met one night when she walked into Tilley’s and he was behind the bar.
She needed a date for a family event, and my brother, being the ever-charmer, as he calls it, volunteered to be her fake boyfriend.
But you know, I’ve read that novel before and seen all the chick flicks—what started out fake turned into love and marriage.
But I highly doubt lightning will strike twice.
“Yeah, okay,” I call out sarcastically as Mom waves Gabby’s hand toward me before they walk out of my bedroom.