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Rhett Senova could charm a woman out of her panties and in the next breath, thank her mother for dinner.
Smooth doesn’t even begin to cover his moves. But the hottest playboy in Arrow Creek wasn’t always this way.
He had dreams of a one-woman future, and the cry of his firstborn brought him to tears.
He never thought his wife would cheat on him with her boss.
Each day is a feud over the dream home he had built for his ex and learning to raise his young son without the jaded lens now coloring his world.
Starting over in his thirties isn’t on his agenda. Not now that he’s raised impenetrable walls. His ex left the sour taste of infidelity in his mouth, and he’s not sure he can trust anyone new.
That is until he meets a vision passing through town and nearly gets mauled by her she-demon dog.
Her sassy wit makes other women seem inadequate, along with those luscious curves and burgundy curls.
The fact she hides beneath her tough exterior that she might be in trouble sends up red flags he’d be smart not to ignore.
Using his charm to win over the pit bull is the easy part. The question is whether he wants to win over the guarded redhead too.
1
Rhett
Tommy blows raspberries, and his chubby arms wave as I send the toy car flying across the carpeted floor to the other side of the room.
“Gain!” His hands smack together. I catalog the pearly teeth peeking through his grin, knowing the next time I see him will bring changes. I ruffle the soft sandy hair atop his head.
“Sorry, bud. All done.” I soften my words with a mirroring smile and plant a loud smack on his cheek. The fit of baby giggles is music to my ears. What’s left of my heart beats solely for the little guy in this room. Without him, not much purpose remains.
I leave him where he sits to retrieve his pink Hot Wheels car, a color he picked that his mother refuses to let him have, and zoom it back in his direction. Another round of squeals floats through the room and chases away the ghosts.
While he’s occupied with the toy, I pack the remainder of our things in preparation for check-out. Nora will be here at twelve on the dot, prompt as always when it comes to spiting me with our son.
No matter. I refuse to let her gloat at my circumstances. She may win our current battle, but the fucking war will be mine. Let her see me leaving a hotel room after spending one of my nights with Tommy. I’ll do it with a smirk. Over my dead body will she see how deep her talons score and her poison infects.
I’ll do whatever I can to keep her venom from touching our son.
Overnight bags slung over my shoulder, I snag the squirmy two-year-old beneath his armpits and toss him in the air.
“Ready?”
The soft pat of his baby hand on my cheek never fails to stutter my heart.
“Yah, Dah!”
As does the gentle baby voice with which he utters my name. His delayed speech concerned me that it had to do with my abrupt separation from his mother, but his doctor assured me that some children simply take their time. Rather than stress, I cherish every word out of his mouth because the next time I see him, he’ll have added more.
Under the guise of blowing a raspberry on his neck, I inhale the last scent of my son to hold me over until next week. Knowing I can’t do a damn thing to see him sooner unless I move back into the house occupied by his mother.
“Love you, little man.”
With him tight to my hip, I exit our hotel room. These last few moments together on our trek to his mother are the hardest. Sometimes, he cries at our hand-offs. Other times, he’s oblivious. His unpredictable response makes schooling my own emotions difficult. I’m not too manly to shed a tear for my distressed son, regardless of what judgment Nora casts my way. His pain hurts me. The fact I’m not allowed to soothe him is like a dagger splitting my ribs. A lingering ache I deal with in week-long increments.
Phone to her ear, she prattles on the line with a sneer as soon as we step off the elevator. On par with every Sunday for the past six weeks, she acts as if this is a giant inconvenience. I’d like to remind her how inconvenient it was to catch her riding her boss's cock. Not that she cares. Nora gives not that first fuck about anyone except herself and Tommy.
My lips conn
ect with the side of Tommy’s head while I’m still steps away from his mother, knowing from prior experience she’ll take him the moment he’s within reach.
“I love you. Be good for Mommy.” My low voice ensnares Nora’s crinkled-browed attention. She ends her call and drops her phone into her open purse. She probably assumes I’m encouraging him to be a terror. As if this loving guy could do wrong.
“It’s twelve-oh-one.” Her sneer only serves as a painful reminder that I once found her attractive. I want to crinkle my own brow as I rove over her face, noting the new lines she’s going to use my money to fill with Botox.
As high school sweethearts, I wanted nothing more than to watch her age along my side, reveling in each new gray hair and line, laughing at the added ten, fifteen, twenty-five pounds as we lived a plentiful life.
It would seem money can’t buy everything, love isn’t all we need, and even a big dick can’t keep a wandering woman like Nora satisfied.
