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He grimaced. “I do, but it’s not Vinnie. That’s horrendous.”
I giggled, making a mental note never to call him that since he clearly didn’t like it. “What is it then?”
“Scythe.”
I blinked.
Vincent just watched me.
It took me a moment to recover. In that moment, a kernel of worry opened up inside me. Last week he’d said something odd about his mother killing his dog. Now his nickname was Scythe? “Uh, that’s an interesting one. Why?”
He held up his hand. On the back was a light-brown birthmark in a very distinct scythe shape. Relief crashed over me. The man was a little odd, but he was also cute and incredibly sweet with the kids. I’d clearly been watching too many episodes of Dexter. “Oh wow. That’s uncanny. It could almost be a tattoo, it’s so perfectly shaped.”
Vincent nodded and got out of the car. He slammed the door behind me. “I’ll call you Bliss, but Scythe isn’t a nickname I advertise. I actually despise it.”
I let out a laugh. “Understandable. Don’t worry, I won’t start calling you that. Might freak the kids out. And Josie. Kellan would probably love it though.”
Vincent leaned against his car. “He would.”
A yip from the back seat alerted me to Vincent’s dog’s presence. “How’s Little Dog doing? She seems happy.”
Vincent reached over the seat and retrieved the Jack Russel with the plastered-up leg. “Do you think so? I want her to be. She’s a good dog. Josie said I could set up a bed for her in her office.”
I widened my eyes at him. “Are you serious? She agreed to that?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t imagine any sort of alternative universe where Josie would agree to such a thing. But she had gotten one glimpse of Vincent’s biceps last week and let out a girly laugh I’d never heard before.
Perhaps all I needed to do to get on her good side was to be a young, handsome guy who clearly worked out. I reached over and patted Little Dog’s soft ears. “Well, the kids are going to love you. And I bet you’ll love them, you sweet girl—”
The screech of tires pulling into the driveway halted our conversation.
“Watch out!” Vincent stepped in front of me quicker than I’d ever seen anyone move, one arm reaching around and holding me to his back, the other clutching Little Dog to his solid chest.
I breathed in deep, trying to calm the adrenaline spike that had come from nearly being run over. I peeped around Vincent’s back, accidentally breathing in the delicious, clean, man scent of him.
Holy Batman, he smelled way too good. Maybe I was still hardwired for sex after the weekend, but being pressed against him wasn’t the worst way to start the day, even if it was because one of the kid’s parents couldn’t drive.
But then I registered the car and the man sitting behind the wheel, and all good feelings disintegrated.
Caleb’s BMW stopped inches from us.
He got out of the driver’s-side door, slamming it so hard I was surprised the glass didn’t shatter.
I flinched.
Vincent tightened his grip on me, as if he’d sensed my fear. I’d almost let myself forget what Caleb was capable of. I’d let myself lock away the memory of him punishing me on the stairs for my supposed infidelity with Nash.
Now that night came back in full force, as well as the knowledge that he could do it all again if he wanted to.
Caleb’s gaze clashed with mine. The seething anger in his eyes was as plain as day. His jaw was rigid, his fingers clenched into fists. He didn’t acknowledge Vincent. He just glared at me with all the hate in his cold heart. “Get in the car.”
I couldn’t say anything. Fear had seized my voice box. My fingers tightened in the back of Vincent’s shirt that I hadn’t even realized I was clutching.
Vincent cleared his throat. “I suggest you take your own advice, sir. Bliss won’t be leaving with you.”
Caleb let out a harsh laugh. “Bliss?” He took two steps forward, going eye to eye with Vincent. “That’s my fiancée you’re talking about. You’ll address her by her given name.” He spat the words in Vincent’s face one at a time, marking each with a pause. “Bethany. Melissa.”
