Betad by kitchmill. Mistakes are my own.

Preread by Hoodie.


6


The next morning I woke to the smell of bacon. Crawling out of Alice's bed, I stopped by the bathroom and put on the extra black strapless bra she had hanging over the shower curtain before heading downstairs to the kitchen where Claire and Brady were watching Alice cook breakfast.

Walking by, I ruffled Brady's wild hair and kissed his head. "Morning, baby."

He grunted. At eight, I already had a teenager on my hands.

"You need any help, Alice?" I asked more as a pleasantry.

Alice pointed behind her with the spatula. "You can grab the orange juice and some glasses if you want. Otherwise, I'm good." She went back to flipping bacon while I padded across the cold linoleum to the fridge.

"You guys have fun last night?" I asked the kids as I poured them each a glass of OJ.

"Did you?" Brady asked with a little bit of a bite. Gotta love that early prepubescent attitude.

"Yes. As a matter of fact we did, young man," Alice jumped in, saving my pride. "Grown-ups are allowed to have fun too, ya know? We work hard every day to take care of you kids and get you what you want and need. Us moms, we deserve a break every once in a while." Placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of each kid, Alice served Brady's with a side of eyebrow. "Now tell your mom you're sorry for the attitude."

Brady sighed, having the good sense to look somewhat abashed. "Sorry, Mom."

"And?"

Brady looked at Alice, his shame morphing into confusion. She mouthed whatever it was she wanted him to say.

"And I hope you had fun," he added before diving into his scrambled eggs.

I pulled him closer by his shirt to place a kiss on the side of his head.

"Thank you, baby. I did."

"I hope you had fun too, Mommy," Claire added.

Alice gave her a wink. "You know I did, princess."

Once we finally got Alice to sit down and eat something, we enjoyed a nice breakfast together, discussing what the kids got into the night before and any homework they had left to do.

By the time Alice dropped us at home, it was well after noon and a sour-looking Emmett was waiting on the front porch swing.

I almost had Alice keep driving. I didn't feel like fighting with him.

"You gonna be okay?" Alice asked.

I acted as if she were silly for asking. "Yeah, of course." I reached for my purse, realizing I didn't bring one with me, before climbing out of the car. "Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow at practice." I shut the car door, silently willing Brady to hurry the hell up and collect his things so he could get out of the car already.

When Emmett stood and headed for the front steps, I took off for the porch to ward off the impending scene he was about to cause.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been sitting here for a fucking hour."

"Funny, I don't remember you asking if you could come over." I walked by him to unlock the door, lowering my voice. "And watch what you say around your son, please. He's already got your attitude. He doesn't need your mouth."

Emmett followed me inside, Brady tagging along behind him. Neither made to shut the door.

Holding in a sigh, I doubled back and shut the door myself.

Without acknowledging his dad Brady ran upstairs.

"Well, hello to you too, son," Emmett called up after him. He was greeted with the sound of Brady's door slamming shut.

"What crawled up his ass?" Emmett followed me into the kitchen.

After pulling the cleaning spray from under the sink, I doused the counter then grabbed a rag. "Probably the fact you didn't pick him up last weekend like you were supposed to," I reminded him, simultaneously scrubbing. It was how I dealt with my nerves these days instead of eating. Whenever Emmett was around I had to be busying my hands. If not I would kill him with them.

"I had a job. Couldn't say no. You know how it goes." His job as a construction worker was more of an excuse for missing his obligations than anything. I couldn't remember the last time he'd picked up Brady on time, if at all, or paid a cent of child support.

"You couldn't have called? They have this thing called FaceTime that the kids are using now. You can actually see each other while you talk."

Emmett ignored my question. "I know what FaceTime is."

An unnerving sensation settled in the back of my neck and I knew he was moving in closer.

Don't touch me, Emmett. Don't do it.

My arm froze when the pad of his finger touched the open space between my shoulder blades.

"Ya know, you're lookin' good these days. Maybe we could FaceTime each other sometime. Like after Brady goes to bed."

I didn't say anything. Didn't do anything while he traced my spine down to just above my tailbone. Hand splayed out, he cupped my right butt cheek over my skirt.

"This new? I like it."

God help me but my body reacted. Not to him particularly. Just the heat that his palm was permeating. It missed being touched. I missed it. Doing it myself wasn't the same.

My brain instantly conjured memories of Masen. It was his hand on me.

"It's been a while for me. What about you? You seeing anybody?"

I clenched my eyes shut at the invitation. I somehow doubted it had been all that long for him. But it definitely had been for me. The throbbing between my legs verified that.

"I miss you. I've missed us. Haven't you?"

His palm moved around to my lower stomach and he pulled me back against him.

"We could make another one," he said against my ear.

"Another what?" I craned my neck to look at him, nearly grazing his lips, and pulled back.

"Another baby." His dimples deepened with his smile.

He wasn't serious.

"Maybe the second one won't hate me as much."

Giving him an incredulous look, I snorted, turning back to scrub the counter and accidentally-on-purpose jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow.

He oofed out a breath then stilled my arm, pressing himself fully against me. Emmett McCarty didn't give up that easily. Unless it came to real responsibility.

"Hey, look at me." His hand came up to grab my chin. When I resisted he spun me around to face him, pinning me to the counter with his hips and obvious hard-on. "I'm serious, Bella."

"Oh, I know you are."

"What's the issue? We make beautiful babies."

Rolling my eyes, I tried to turn away and face the counter again.

Emmett's relentless palms pawed at my bare shoulders as he rested his head against the side of mine. "Let's do it, B. Let's make another baby." Going for my skirt, he started bunching it up around my hips. "I'll move in. We'll give it another shot. We can be a family. Don't you want that? Don't you want our son to have a father?"

Funny, I thought he did.

Was this why he was flaking on his payments and refused to pick Brady up on his scheduled days? Was he playing me? Working on my guilt so I'd let him move in here? And to what? Spend time with his son in exchange for letting him mooch off me?

"Let's try for a girl this time."

Hearing enough, I shrugged him off and pushed him away.

"What? You don't want another kid?"

"With you? No! You don't even help me with the one we've got." I gestured to the ceiling. Brady's room was just above us. He could probably hear everything we were saying.

Emmett had the audacity to look flabbergasted, like I'd sprung these feelings on him out of nowhere. Typical.

"Why are you here anyway? It's not your weekend. That was last week and you blew it."

"I told you, I had to work. But, it's fine. Brady knows I'll make it up to him."

"Will you?"

"Yes."

Right.

"You should know I had it documented by the lawyer that you missed your visit this time. I wasn't bluffing when I said I was going to start reporting it."

Emmett shook his head. "You didn't have to do that."

"No, but I did anyway." I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "And if you keep showing up whenever you want and putting your hands on me uninvited, I'm going to file a restraining order and start pushing for child support, too."

I didn't necessarily need the money but it would be nice to have. Besides, I was sick of letting this man-child get away with all his bullshit.

Fumes practically blew out from Emmett's flared nostrils. His hands turned to fists ready to punch something. I only pushed because I knew he wouldn't punch me. At least, he never had.

"You need to get it together, Emmett. If not for yourself then for your son. He depends on you. He needs you. He wants to see you."

Why, I didn't know.

"Obviously not." Here came the pity party.

"And why do you say that?"

"Because he runs whenever he sees me coming. Besides, he's got you. You're all he needs, aren't you? Miss Independent Mama. Hell, he didn't even look at me before heading upstairs and barricading himself in his room."

I wasn't about to soothe his bruised ego.

"Here." Digging in his pocket he pulled out a wadded up twenty and held it out for me to take. "It's all I've got on me right now. I'll get you the rest later."

"I'm not going to take your last twenty, Emmett. Just pick up your kid when you're supposed to. And if you can't, at least call. But I strongly suggest you find a way to be here on your scheduled days from now on."

He shoved the money back in his pocket. "Fair enough. Guess I better get going then. Since I'm so unwelcome and shit."

Don't roll your eyes. Don't react. It's what he wants. You're bigger than that.

"Tell B-man I'll catch him next weekend when he resurfaces, would ya?"

"Yeah, sure."

With a glare and nod of thanks, Emmett headed out and I could finally breathe.

After a few minutes I detected the sound of Brady's door opening. His heavy steps on the stairs confirmed it. So he was avoiding his father.

"Dad gone?" he asked, little to no emotion on his face or in his voice.

"Yeah. He said to let you know he was sorry about last weekend. He had a job and couldn't make it. But he'll be here next weekend. And he loves and misses you." So, I embellished on Emmett's message a little.

"Yeah, sure." Brady saw right through me. Probably heard the whole conversation. The words "inside voice" had never been a part of his father's colorful vocabulary.

"Can I ride my bike down to Newton's? He invited me over to play some games."

I all but opened my mouth and Brady cut me off.

"All my homework's done. I just had that sheet of math problems to do and I finished them while you were talking to Dad."

Eyes slit, I regarded him for a few seconds. "Go grab your homework and bring it down here so I can look over it and you can go." I barely got the words out before Brady shot back up the stairs. Seconds later the mess in his book bag was strewn across the kitchen table and he was running out the back door.

"Straight to Mike's, that's it. And I want you back here by five for dinner. You hear me?"

"Yep. Straight to Coach's. Back by dinner. Love you!"

I tried not to think about all the horrifying things that could potentially happen to my child while he was out in the world without me. Newton's house was only at the end of the block so I could see it from the front window. I went to stand and watch Brady ride down the street then dispose of his bike on the front lawn before barging inside like he owned the place.

I hung my head in shame at my kid's nonexistent manners before heading upstairs to strip out of my rumpled clothes and wash the stink off in the shower. After thoroughly scrubbing the necessities, I stood under the hot spray, letting it burn away the remnants of Emmett's touch. To think that I'd ever enjoyed it. I shivered, in part from Emmett's antics but mostly because the water had run cold.

Shutting it off, I stepped out and grabbed a towel, clasping it tightly to my chest when I heard a knock on the front door.

I groaned. "What now?"

Rushing to my bedroom, I pulled on a pair of leggings and a lounge shirt. With my skin still moist from the shower the leggings gave me some trouble. Before I could make it downstairs the sharp start of a motorcycle ripped through the neighborhood.

My stomach dropped and I nearly fell down the stairs, opening the door just in time to catch the tail end of a matte black bike and its owner turning the corner at the end of the street.

I was a little disappointed but mostly relieved to have missed them since I hadn't checked the mirror and probably looked like a drowned rat.

Noticing Mike had stepped out onto his porch too, I waved then shrugged, turning to go back in when I spotted a white envelope hanging out of my mailbox.

My name was scrawled on the front. On the back I found Masen's name and his phone number. All that was inside was my license and the few loose bills I'd left behind.

Guess he was holding Alice's bra and that condom for ransom.


Have y'all heard about this First Responders contest? Which first responder is your favorite?