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“No, I’m good.”
I push the door open and let go of Vincent’s hand. “Go put your bag in your corner, baby.”
Walking to the little kitchenette, I switch on the coffee machine.
My thoughts turn to April, and I shake my head.
A man must try to hit me. It will be the last thing he does.
Not only will I knee the bejesus out of him, but I’m pretty sure Alek would kill him.
The thought makes me pause, and I focus on how good it feels to know there’s someone I can turn to if I need help.
I have Alek back.
I hear the doorbell jingle and walk to the front. April holds a paper bag out to me. “One chocolate muffin.”
“Your breakfast is here, baby,” I call.
“Yay!” Vincent comes barreling around an aisle of books, and taking the paperback, he hurries back to his corner.
“Listen,” April says to get my attention. “Have you seen a guy with dark blonde hair hanging around? He’s about five foot nine. Seems nice?”
“Barry?” I ask, a frown forming on my forehead.
“Yeah.” She gives me a look of warning. “Apparently, he’s doing his rounds up and down the street. He’s the guy I went on a date with.”
“Barry is the man who hit you?” I gasp.
“Yeah. Just be careful of him. He’s real smooth until you won’t sleep with him.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. “He tried his luck with me the other day.” I walk to the counter, and opening the cash register, I take ten dollars out. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks, Everleigh.” I watch as she leaves the store before I go back to the kitchen to make some coffee. I pour milk into a sippy cup and take it to Vincent, who’s making a royal mess of the muffin.
“Clean your hands and face when you’re done,” I say before I go sit at the counter to enjoy my coffee.
I can’t believe what April told me. I knew there was something off about Barry. I feel sorry for April, though. It must’ve been traumatizing.
Opening my laptop, I check the bestsellers lists to see if there are any new popular releases. I try to stay up to date with what’s happening in the book world.
The doorbell jingles again, and my eyes dart to the entrance. Seeing Alek dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, my heart skips a beat before carrying on at a wild pace.
Damn, he looks good.
I’m still drooling when he comes around the counter. He places his hands on either side of my hips and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Morning,moya malen'kaya lyubov'.”
I swoon a little as I whisper, “Morning.”
“Daddy!” Vincent shouts, and Alek hardly has time to brace as our son runs toward him.
“Your hands,” I yell, but it’s too late.
Alek lifts Vincent from his feet, and in horror, I watch as my son’s chocolate-covered hands ruin Alek’s jacket.
The doorbell jingles again, and Rosalie comes in with two coffees she must’ve gotten from the coffee shop.
“I’m so sorry about your jacket. I’ll have it dry-cleaned.”
