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I closed my eyes and knelt beside her, willing my dick to stand down. Her soft, clean scent assaulted my senses. I pressed my face against her blanket and inhaled her deep into my lungs. I didn’t move from that spot for hours.
I listened to her even breathing.
I watched her change positions.
Before I left her side, I skated my fingers through her silky hair, wrapped a lock around my digit, and tugged, hoping she’d catch me. But she’d remained asleep.
Next, I searched for scissors in the kitchen and a plastic sandwich bag. When I found them, I went into the boy’s bedroom and snipped a piece of his hair for a paternity test. I almost kissed his head but refrained. I didn’t want to get attached to another little boy who wasn’t mine, so I left and went to my motel room to catch a few hours of sleep before I dropped in on Ella for breakfast.
Five hours later, I knocked on Ella’s front door with a box of donuts and half a gallon of OJ in hand. I’d snooped in her fridge and cabinets while looking for the scissors, but they were mostly bare. No sweet treats, nothing prepackaged like Cole’s favorite toaster pastries, cheesy fish-shaped crackers, or sugary cereals Irisah would allow him to eat on the weekends as a special treat.
Ella’s fridge only had eggs, milk, butter, cheese, green veggies, and beer. I’d found whole-grain bread, peanut butter, unsweetened apple sauce, flour, sugar, oatmeal, and microwave popcorn. I’d been so shocked that I’d forgotten to check the freezer. I doubted it was stocked with meat and ice cream, like mine was in Texas.
What the fuck did they eat? Was Vegas not paying her enough to buy food? I would kill that son of a bitch the first chance I got.
I knocked again after waiting several seconds. Were they not up yet? It was just after eight.
“Who is it?” the little guy asked.
“Rocky.”
“Rocky who?”
This felt like a knock-knock joke. I couldn’t resist. “Rocky Jones, the stranger from yesterday. Are you ready to eat some rockin’ donuts for breakfast?” I snorted, amusing myself. Seconds passed, and no reply came from the kid. “Hey, are you there?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to open the door?”
“No, he isn’t!” The door flew open, and a furious Ella appeared, startling me. “How dare you try to trick my son with—”
“Donuts?” I lifted the box and OJ. “And orange juice.”
“You really have donuts?” She stared at me, confused.
“I really have donuts and OJ. Can I come in?” I issued her a sheepish grin.
“I don’t know your game, but the answer is no.”
“Aww, man,” the little guy whispered from behind Ella. “I love donuts.”
She shushed him.
“There is no game. It’s just breakfast.”
“I don’t believe you. Why are you here?”
“Jeez, don’t be ungrateful.”Bad choice of words, Rocky.
Ella’s face turned red. “Don’t push me, Rocky.”
“Baby, it’s only breakfast for you and the kid, nothing else. If you won’t let me come in, at least keep the donuts and juice, and I’ll go.”
“Please, Mommy,” the little guy whispered again.
Ella shushed him, but her shoulders sagged defeatedly. “Fine.” She snatched the box and juice. “We’ll take these, but you have to leave.”
“Okay.” I stepped back. “See you around.”
