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Chapter 1
June
You know what the best part about going on vacation with your son’s grandparents is?
Built in. Babysitters.
Tucker’s fingers effortlessly untie the sides of my bright blue bikini bottoms at the same time he drags his teeth gently along the length of my neck up to my ear. “It’s been far too long since I’ve heard my little goddess scream.”
That’s not my fault.
That’s what happens when you have a very active yet very accident prone four-year-old.
Michelangelo Lake Frost better known to the world as Lo – unless he’s in serious trouble, for let’s say turning his great grandfather’s designer shoelace into a headband to fight mutant ducks that only he can see six minutes before we need to be leaving the house to greet literal royalty – is all of the best parts of his father and all of the worst parts of me. The kid has an equal chance of charming a room as he does destroying it because he tripped into the most expensive thing in sight. Graceful hands – paints like a prodigy – but two left goose feet – I actually used to be concerned that they were webbed by the way he waddled more than traditionally walked. He’s got Tucker’s bright blue eyes and my shade of light brown skin with his Aunt Brandi’s knack for loud fashion choices which has him at the center of attention the majority of the time.
And he loves it.
Interestingly enough, I can’t say that’s something he got from either of us considering I prefer to disappear like a magician’s assistant, while my husband would rather be the crowd participant that helps enhance an illusion as opposed to it beingabouthim.
Not Lo.
If there’s a chance to be the star, he’s taking it.
Just like if there’s an opportunity to dazzle or wow others like someone training to be David Blaine’s replacement, he’s going for it.
Which brings me to my next point.
Our boy loves magic.
We’re talking likelovesmagic.
So fucking much that we’ve signed him up for classes that start after this vacation.
This so long…so overduevacation.
The first one we’ve ever gone on just the five of us.
Well, six if you include the one, I still need to tell my husband about.
I mean it was on my checklist to do before we left!
However, so was making sure Violet knew she needed to be at our place for the dishwasher repairman yesterday between two and ten – she housesits whenever we’re not home to help supplement the income she’s barely getting from acting – and signing liability paperwork to a magician from Vegas who doesn’t seem to see the copyright infringement issue that can come from calling himself The Great Magical Mike.
There was a lot to do prior to boarding the private jet that brought us here.
And there’s been a lot to do since.
Checking in and unpacking and meeting new people and stopping at the local grocery store as well as an art store to pick upextranecessities like icepacks and paintbrushes.
I know I need to tell him, and I’m going to.
Just not pre a breakfast orgasm.
Between work and prepping for this trip, I’ve barely had time to brush my teeth in the past four days let alone get off.
And I wanna get off.
Ideserveto get off.
