Chapter 8 Playing Hooky
Playing Hooky
“Ace!” I called out as Kian walked in with Isaiah. “What are you doing here on a Tuesday morning? Don’t you have camp?”
Ignoring the cacophony of the breakfast rush, I set my empty tray down on the closest table. Reaching back to secure the apron strings dangling down my back, I smiled at Isaiah before throwing a questioning glance at Kian beside him.
Isaiah grinned, his big blue eyes growing larger still with his excitement. “Me and Dad are playing hooky!”
“Oh, yeah?” I smiled at his innocent jubilation. I hoped life didn’t steal it from him too early. I ran the few steps to the hostess stand and grabbed two menus in case they wanted them before walking them to their usual table. “What are you celebrating this time?”
I glanced at Kian, looking as good as any man had a right to with his rumpled hair, fitted tee, and worn jeans, my brow furrowed at his scrunched nose as he slid into the booth.
“Dad’s birthday!” Isaiah grinned then confided, “He’s old!”
“Today?” My eyebrows shot up as I turned my attention to Kian. “Your birthday is today?”
“It’s not a big deal,” he replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’ve stopped counting.”
“Oh, really?” I cocked my head to the side. “Let’s say you were counting,” I teased. “What number would you be on?”
“41.”
I pretended to faint. “That is old!”
Isaiah laughed while Kian slanted me a warning glance. “You’ll catch up soon enough, lady.”
I dipped my chin and smiled wickedly. Moving in close, I dropped my mouth to his ear and whispered, “I blew past 41 a while ago, little boy.”
He jerked his head to the side, grazing his cheek against mine, his stubble sending shockwaves of desire straight to my clit.
His breath danced over my collarbone.
My lips parted as my eyes fluttered shut. I exhaled with a small huff.
“Bridget,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Not my ears.”
I chuckled darkly. “No,” I agreed, my lips barely touching his lobe.
He shuddered.
My heart lurched in my chest, delight warming me to my bones. “Not your poor little ears,” I breathed.
“You okay, Dad?”
I stood up, laughter spilling from my lips, to find Kian lost in a daze. Squeezing his shoulder, I turned to Isaiah.
“He’s good, Ace. I was just giving him trouble for not telling me about his birthday.” I held my hands up in a shrug. “How can I help you celebrate if I don’t know?”
Kian gave his head a shake, his chin dipping down as he stared at the table.
My smile slowly faded.
“Isaiah,” I said, grabbing his attention. “Go find Susie and tell her it’s Daddy’s birthday.”
As soon as he left, I faced Kian and dropped into the booth across from him. “Kian, I’m sorry.” I twisted my hands together. “Sometimes I’m too aggressive. I didn’t mean any harm.”
He gave his head a shake. “What? No!” He exclaimed, his voice raspy, then he shook his head once more. Voice returning to normal, he continued, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he rubbed a large hand over his chest. “Lady, you are potent. You should come with a warning.”
I rolled my eyes and blew out a relieved breath. “We’re okay?”
“You’re fine, I need another shower,” he grunted. Tilting his head to the side, his hazel eyes heated, he accused, “You might be a bit of a sadist.”
I pretended to think about it. “Maybe,” I paused, “but eventually I would grant you a happy ending.”
His brow lowered and his voice took on that commanding tone that sent goosebumps racing across my flesh. “Okay, Bridget, that’s enough. A man can only take so much.”
Bridget.
I nodded soberly, secretly more than a little pleased, and brought my hand up to my forehead in a rough salute. “Gotcha, Sir.”
He grinned at me then jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “Get out of here before I do something embarrassing and very public that we’ll both regret.”
Laughing, I swung my round ass out of the booth and walked back to the kitchen, an extra sway in my hips. High-fiving Isaiah on his way back to the table, I bent quickly. “What’s Daddy’s favorite kind of cake?”
“He likes vanilla,” he assured me.
“Does he?” I mused, not so sure about that.
“Yup.” He nodded eagerly. “Are you going to make us a cake?”
I held my finger to my lips. “Can you keep a secret?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I’ll surprise you with it later. Don’t tell him,” I warned.
He zipped his mouth shut, then mumbled from the side, his words garbled. “I won’t.”
I laughed and stood up, tousling his hair. “I’ll go get you guys some breakfast.”
“Pancakes?” he asked suspiciously.
“With chocolate chips,” I assured him.
I don’t know why I bothered giving them the menus. Taking that small decision out of Kian’s hands was an easy way to take care of them, and they needed as much caretaking as they could get.
After they left, Susie, thankfully, called someone else in so I could escape home to bake Kian’s cake.
At quarter to six, I jumped into the shower to freshen up. Foregoing makeup as this was most assuredly not a date, I pulled my hair up into a lazy bun on top of my head.
I carefully packed the cake, buttercream and vanilla topped with tiny, hand-molded, chocolate tools and the words ‘Happy Birthday Daddy’ piped out in icing in the middle, into one of Anita’s sweets boxes.
Tucking a few of Isaiah’s favorite cookies in the corner, I locked the door and made my way to Kian’s.
Standing on his doorstep, I realized there was not a single iota of romantic sentiment in my body.
Here at his home at night, with no one else around to make it safe, flirting was out of the question. I breathed a sigh of relief that it really was a harmless flirtation. I was there strictly as a friend.
God knew he needed one.
I’d lost count of the number of birthdays I’d celebrated alone. Even when I was married, there didn’t seem to be time to celebrate mine.
At first, Gary fretted and apologized for the fact I shared it with his oldest son.
After a while, it just faded into the background.
The first year he failed to remember, I brought my hurt feelings to him.
“Bridget, really?” Flinging his arm toward our dining room where the children and his ex-wife had gathered, he continued, “You’re an adult, he’s only a child. Can you not let him have this? A day to celebrate with his mom and his dad and his stepmom all together in the same room?”
Shame near buried me. “Of course,” I murmured, ducking my face away. “I don’t want to take anything away from any of the children.”
He held his hands out to his sides helplessly. “Then what do you want? I don’t understand.”
I shook me head. “Nothing. Please forget I said anything.”
He regarded me with suspicion, his face pinched.
Tears choked me but shame forced them to retreat. Conflicting feelings whipped my emotions into a frenzy, intertwining them to the point I couldn’t make sense of any of them.
The distress was too much to bear, so I pushed it aside and nodded briskly. “You’re right. We need to focus on the children.”
His face softened as he drew me into his arms. “Thank you.”
I clung to him, nodding against his chest. “Should we get back out there?”
He nodded and drew back, his brow furrowed. Lips twisting to the side, he asked, “We’re low on ice cream, do you think you could run out and pick some up?”
I blinked, surprised by the surge of anger threatening to disrupt our freshly smoothed over surface. Instead of giving into it, I nodded.
He squeezed my arms. “Thank you.” Looking behind him he yelled to ask his ex-wife, “Lucy! What flavor do you want?”
I drew back numbly.
Turned away to take my purse off the hook in the hall.
Bent to put on first one shoe, then the other.
And picked up my keys off the hutch.
“Maple walnut, okay, Bridge?”
I paused, nodded, then opened the door.
Driving away from the house, in the safety of the car, I tightened my hold on the steering wheel and screamed, the echo shockingly loud, strangely validating, and releasing enough of my fury to allow me to breathe without spitting fire.
The following year, Gary took the children to his ex-wife’s house, telling me I should have a night to relax.
It was, after all, my birthday.
He’d waited an entire year to exact his revenge for that misstep. That was the day I realized I’d truly lost Jakey.
For one reason or another, he no longer invited me to participate in family events. Always, of course, for my benefit.
Not so long after that, he stopped taking me with him to corporate events.
The roar of the lawn mower starting next door grounded me back into the present. I gave my head a shake, shoving the memory back into the bowels of the past where it belonged.
I knocked briskly on Kian’s door, his cake balanced on my palm, the gifts I bought for him and Isaiah in a bag dangling off my wrist.
Kian deserved to celebrate his birthday.
Kian deserved his family to be celebrate with him.
He deserved a lot of things he wasn’t getting.
I took a deep breath and smiled widely as the door swung open.
Kian’s eyebrows rose, one corner of his pretty mouth turning down as he stood staring at me.
Isaiah peeked around him, his eyes stopping on the box before lighting up with delight as he clapped his hands together and laughed.
“Hi Bridge!” He danced from one foot to the other while Kian stood silently, his attention skipping between Isaiah and me.
A small smile curved his mouth.
I laughed nervously. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Of course!” He gave his head a small shake and stepped back, swinging the door wide as he winced. “It’s a little messy.”
I smiled up at him as I crossed the threshold, laughing as I nearly tripped over a pile of sand toys. “I won’t judge.”
Steadying me at the elbow, Kian snorted and shook his head before closing the front door and guiding me through the living room to the kitchen.