SIX (8 page)

My mouth drops open as I stare in shock. He fixed my car?

Roller coaster.

Standing here, holding a kid, I’m wondering how this fucking happened and when Misty became sassy.

My mind nearly exploded when I came in and saw her holding a kid.

For a second, I thought she’d been hiding this huge part of herself from me and I didn’t like it one bit.

I’m such a dick.

I treat her like she’s contagious in one breath and force her to share herself and her life with me in the next.

Maybe I pushed her over the edge by fucking that girl where she could see me and her attention will now be focused on finding someone better suited.

It’s going to be really fucking tough to stomach if she does.

Damn my stupid head. It doesn’t make sense with what my body is thinking, wanting, and all I’m doing is confusing the shit out of us both.

I’m going to have to man up and stay on the path I already started down. Lowering the kid to the floor, I pull out my cell and send a text to a couple who like to share themselves with a third party—I’ll just fuck her out of my system.

Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I eye the tiny human at my feet.

She’s smiling up at me through fingers in her mouth.

“You want something to eat?” I ask, but she doesn’t reply. “Drink?”

“Thirwsty,” she mumbles.

“Coke? No, water—wait, milk?” I quiz, looking at her.

I knew fuck all about kids, especially ones this small.

“I need to go powtty.” She begins bouncing up and down and I stare at her, trying to decipher what she means.

She repeats herself and seconds later, a trickle sounds before I look down to see pee forming in a puddle at her feet.
Shit.

Grabbing her under the arms, I rush her into the kitchen and stand her in the sink. Don’t kids have diapers for this shit?

Her little lip begins to quiver and I start to panic, feeling useless.

“Don’t cry,” I tell her, my eyes darting around to find something to make her feel better.

Grabbing a spatula lying next to the sink, I wave it in her face.

“Here, play with this.”

She takes it and continues to look up at me with big blue eyes.

Her socks and shoes are both wet.

I check her little dress and that, too, has a piss trail.

Snatching up a tea towel, I makeshift a diaper and strip her from her wet clothes. Pulling my tee over my head, I drop it on hers and pull her hands through the sleeves. The shirt pools around her, swallowing her little body, so I rip the hem and tie it up in a big knot to keep it mostly in place.

It’s still huge, but it’s not falling off her.

I stare at my handiwork, congratulating myself. Maybe I do know something about kids after all.

She’s happily banging the utensil against the cooker and she’s dry.

Good job to me.

“So, little lady, do you eat?”

Her giggle doesn’t really answer me, so I grab some chips and swipe her into my arms before taking her back to the rec room.

“What do you want to watch?”

She’s too busy pulling on my ears and tracing my tattoos to answer, so I flick the remote and find Kevin Hart’s stand up on.

Kids like comedy.

Someone pokes me in the arm, hitting the same spot over and over.

Still groggy, I open one eye and then the other.

My eyes adjust and I see Parker and Misty standing over me.

Parker sucks in her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from laughing, but her whole frame is shaking, and Misty is smiling at me with a hand over her heart.

“What?” is all I get out, still a little hazy and confused as to why they’re standing over me.

“What is she wearing?” Parker asks, gesturing to the warm little body asleep on my chest.

“Oh, she peed.”

“So, you dressed her in a towel and your shirt?”

“Well, she shouldn’t stay in wet clothes. She’d get sore, trust me.” I nod.

“Did you make a diaper?” Misty asks, eyeballing the towel.

“She didn’t have one on!” I exclaim.

“She’s nearly three, Six.”

“And?”

“And she doesn’t wear diapers.”

“Well, she should. She peed on the floor and in the sink.” I cradle her to me as I sit up so she doesn’t fall and place her on the cushion next to me.

“How about thanks for watching her?” I question, placing my hands on my hips.

Parker throws herself into me. “You’re amazing! Do you know that?”

Her gratitude is too enthusiastic since I was only joking when I said she should thank me.

I try not to squirm out of her hold.

Her kid is great; it wasn’t a hardship watching her, despite me being clueless about looking after a human that small.

We made it work and I got a nap out of it.

I pat her on the back and push her away from me.

“Yeah, whatever. I need to get back to work.”

I point at Misty before I leave. “Low, Misty. Very low,” I jest.

She scrunches up her nose and bites that fucking lip.

Forcing myself to walk away from her, instead of taking that bottom lip between my own teeth like my cock wants me to, I ignore everyone in the bar as I walk through.

My dick is semi-hard and I need more distance and Lucky to say something stupid so it goes soft and I can get on with the rest of my day.

Wiping down my station, I swipe away the sweat coating my top lip.

It was hot and busy as hell in here today.

The last client trickles out after paying Lucky at the register.

Opening the fridge we keep at the back of the shop, I grab a bottle of OJ and chug it back.

Lucky strides over to meet me in the middle of room, his brow furrowed.

He keeps rubbing over his earlobe with the pad of his forefinger and thumb.

“What did you say before?” he asks, referring to me mentioning my time with Emma.

“Parker’s kid, Emma,” I repeat.

Lucky stands there, shaking his head no.

“I feel like I just told you she has a dick,” I say, referring to how he’s acting.

“Is there something going on between the two of you?”

“I don’t want to go there with her. We have a good thing the way things are. I’ve never had a girl friend before, like actual friend, and I don’t want to ruin that.” He shrugs, trying to hide how much he wants her.

“Sex just complicates things. I don’t want to ruin our friendship with sex,” he continues, though I’m not sure whether he’s trying to convince me or himself.

“How bad are you in the sack?”

“Ha-ha, dickhead.” He throws a scrunched up rag at me, which I catch in mid-air like a boss.

“You can’t ruin friendships with sex. That’s like saying you ruin cake by putting frosting on it.”

He stares at the ceiling, looking lost in thought and chewing on his cheek.

“You’re thinking about cake right now, aren’t you?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Frosting?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“Frosting on her cupcakes.” He grins. “What if she gets all clingy and shit?”

He’s right. Women always bring emotion into sex when it’s more than just a one-night stand.

Then he would have to be around her all the time, like I would Misty, and it will get messy, complicated, and affect work.

“What if I fuck her and then tell her we can still be friends?”

“Saying we can still be friends after a break up is like saying, ‘I found and ate your pudding, but I will shit it out in an hour so you can still eat it’.”

His face scrunches up in distaste.

“That’s one of the grossest things you’ve ever said.”

“Ditto, asshole. She has a kid. She won’t be looking for an easy, fun fuck, so don’t go there if that’s all you want,” I warn.

Moaning under his breath, he grabs his backpack holding his sketchpads and waves goodbye over his shoulder.

A wave of exhaustion hits me.

I’d been bent over for a solid four hours non-stop with my last client and I was ready to get out of here for the night, especially since I have company meeting me back at the house.

Checking to make sure both my and Lucky’s stations are cleared away and sterilized, I flick the lights out and walk out the front shop door.

I lock it and jiggle the knob to make sure it’s good before jumping in my truck and taking off for the night.

Staring at the receipt from the ATM, my head drops to the steering wheel with a thud.
Rain Wizard
by Black Stone Cherry croons out of my stereo and it couldn’t be more apt for my dyer situation.

Only, instead of rain, I needed someone to rectify the drought in my bank account.

Paying the final bill on Dad’s funeral leaves me with barely two pennies to scrape together.

My only options for the night are growing some balls and asking Six about the apartment or sleeping in my car and becoming the victim of a serial killer.

Fuck my life
.

Sighing, I grab my keys and start the engine to my car.

I swallow the saliva filling my mouth at a rapid pace as I tap my knuckles on the front door of Six’s house.

The lights are on and his car is parked outside, so I know he’s in.

A part of me wanted him not to be here despite the need to talk to him.