Marred Page 6

  “It’s sweet,” she said. “If unnecessary.”

  This woman was insufferable with her judgments and disdain. Just when he’d started to like her a little, she went back into her pontificating ways.

  “Sleeping in a drawer could stunt a baby’s growth,” he said, like he knew anything about the subject.

  Violet flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “That’s ridiculous. Did your sister grow up to be short?”

  Kyle shrugged and looked back to Mollie. Violet’s scrutiny felt like a bandage being torn from the hairiest part of his arm. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Violet asked.

  “I don’t know how tall she is. I haven’t seen her since she was fourteen.”

  That shut her up. For once. She went back to the drawer, fussing for a moment before declaring it ready. Seconds later, as if what she wanted to say had suddenly come to her she said, “I was dead broke when I had Dakota and he slept in a drawer for the first six months of his life. Does he look like he suffered any?”

  On cue, Dakota grinned up at Kyle. He was adorable with those big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.

  “He looks big and strong to me,” Kyle said.

  Dakota beamed.

  “There you go. Being poor doesn’t make you a bad parent,” she said.

  “This isn’t about you,” Kyle said.

  “I know that.”

  “You’re acting like it is,” he said. “I wasn’t criticizing you.”

  “I get that you’re trying to guarantee she has everything she needs, but I can tell you with assurance that what she needs most from you is love. In the long term, anyway. What she needs now is a routine and a schedule.”

  “I had a routine.” He tucked Mollie’s arm back under the blanket. “But I have a feeling it’s about to get blown to pieces.”

  She placed her hands back on her hips, causing her skirt to ride up over her knees. Man, she had pretty legs, even if she did nothing to show them off in those flat canvas tennis shoes. “Kyle Hicks, you’re about to embark on the best routine of your life. This little bundle of pink is about to become the most phenomenal thing that ever happened to you.”

  What was this strange lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow and the prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes? Did becoming the father of a little girl reduce a man to a sentimental pile of sniffles?

  Will she call me Daddy or Dad?

  Dakota tugged on the sleeve of Kyle’s shirt. “What’s the difference between a crib and a pack-and-play, Kale?” Kyle sounded like Kale when Dakota said his name. Kyle tousled Dakota’s hair.

  “I have no idea,” Kyle said. “Ask your mother.”

  He repeated the question.

  Violet frowned. “A crib is for home. A pack-and-play is for taking places, like on a vacation or to a hotel.”

  “This is a hotel.” Dakota said.

  Kyle laughed. Mollie’s eyes fluttered open for a brief second. He held his breath. Would she wake and start up with the awful howling? Note to self—no loud laughing while holding the baby.

  Dakota wrinkled his nose. “Can the baby play in a pack-and-play but not a crib?”

  Violet took in a deep breath. “For goodness sake, Dakota, it’s just named that. Beds are for sleeping. So are cribs and pack-and-plays.”

  “Maybe it shouldn’t contain the word play then?” Kyle asked, winking at Dakota, who agreed with a solemn nod of his head.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen now.” Violet pointed at Dakota. “You, young man, are going to have a treat and watch a show on television while I run home and get our suitcases.” They were all packed and waiting in the hallway for their temporary move to the Mullens’. The rest of their things were in storage. “Kyle, you need to put Mollie in her drawer, I mean, bed, and go back to finish your dinner. I’m going to eat something in the car on my way to the house. My stomach’s growling and I’ve got the hangries.”

  “Oh no.” Dakota’s blue eyes widened.

  “Is your mom grumpy when she’s hungry?” Kyle asked.

  Dakota nodded.

  “We don’t want that,” Kyle said.”

  “We’ll establish a routine tomorrow,” Violet said.

  Again, with that word routine.

  Kyle fixed himself a three-finger scotch in celebration of surviving the forty-five minutes it took for Violet to return from her old house. He was about to take a glorious first sip when she walked into the main room from putting Dakota to bed. “I’m sorry to bug you, but Dakota wondered if you could come say goodnight.”

  “Sure thing.” He pointed to the table where her cold turkey burger remained untouched. “I ordered you another meal. It should be here within minutes.”

  “This would have been fine.”

  “The least I owe you is a warm meal.”

  He walked away before she could protest.

  Dakota was tucked into a twin rollaway bed. Violet had said she didn’t want him sleeping with her because it was a bad habit to get into and had asked for the bed to be arranged in the large walk-in closet. Kyle wasn’t in love with the idea of the boy sleeping in a closet. Now that he was here, however, he realized the closet was bigger than the room he’d shared with his two siblings when they were kids. Their trailer had been about fourth of the size of this suite, now that he thought about it. He scowled, chiding himself. You don’t think about the past. Ever.

  “Hi Kale.” Round blue eyes looked up at him.

  “Did you have a good bath?” Kyle asked.

  “That tub has jets. They tickled.”

  “Did you like it?”

  Dakota nodded and grinned. His teeth looked like miniature Chiclet gum. “I have Spider-Man jammies.” He lifted the covers to expose the super hero emblem.

  “Those are cool,” Kyle said.

  “Mama could get you some.”

  “I might just ask her to.”

  “Kale, will you marry my mom?”

  “What? Um, no, no. We’re just friends.”

  “Honor and Zane are best friends. She told me.”

  “Oh, well, your mom and I aren’t best friends like Honor and Zane. That’s the difference.” Up to a few hours ago, we were arch enemies.

  “I wanted to marry Honor,” Dakota said.

  “Zane beat you to it, huh?” Kyle asked.

  Dakota nodded solemnly.

  Zane, that lucky bastard.

  “You’re a little young to get married anyway, don’t you think?” Kyle asked.

  “Honor said I’ll be a heart squeezer like you when I get big.”

  “You mean a heart breaker?”

  “I guess so,” Dakota said.

  Kyle rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Don’t be like me, Dakota. Be like Zane.” Or Brody or Jackson or Lance. Anyone but me.

  “I’ll be like you. I’ve decided.” Dakota tugged the blanket up to his chin. “Now you kiss me on the forehead and say goodnight.”

  “All righty then.” He leaned down and did as asked. Dakota’s head smelled good too. This must be a kid thing.

  Dakota closed his eyes. “Night, Kale.”

  “Night, Dakota.”

  Violet’s food had arrived by the time he got back to the living room. She stood at the picture windows, eating her turkey burger. The sky had darkened completely. Night came early this time of year.

  “You shouldn’t eat standing up,” he said.

  She remained at the window with her back to him. “Why?”

  “Meals are supposed to be enjoyed at a table.”

  “There’s always more to do at the end of the day. No time to sit around sipping champagne and eating caviar.” As she turned to look at him, she popped the last of her burger into her mouth.

  “Is that what you think my life’s like?” he asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

  “A small one.”

  He chose a mini bottle of white wine from the ba
r and poured it into a glass, then joined her by the window to deliver her drink. The cloud cover made it impossible to see stars or the moon, but the lights of town and the hillside homes twinkled in the distance.

  “I love this view,” he said. “Doesn’t matter what time of day or year, there’s always something pretty to see.”

  “Cliffside Bay’s a special place.”

  Sensing the tension in her voice, he feared they were headed into dangerous territory. He didn’t have the energy to fight with her about the preservation of the town.

  She crossed the room to sit on the couch. “This was the longest day in the history of man. I think I’ll take your advice and sit.”

  “I agree.” He grabbed his scotch and turned some music on. A country ballad blared through the speakers. He turned it down. Only a few hours ago he’d been rocking out with the volume blaring. Would he ever be able to do that again? He plopped onto the other end of couch.

  “Thanks for saying goodnight to Dakota. He’s smitten with you,” Violet said.

  “What’s up with the way he talks? Is that normal for a three-year-old?”

  “He’s been tested.” She blushed. “It sounds pretentious, but apparently he’s gifted.”

  “I’ll say,” Kyle said. He’d been tested as a child. They’d said the same about him when he was a child. Not smart enough to keep from getting a girl pregnant.

  “I’m afraid he’s going to get attached to you,” Violet said.

  Kyle shook his head. “I’m not the type of man a child gets attached to. The rest of the Dogs, but not me.”

  “You’re the type of man Dakota’s drawn to. Powerful, successful, athletic. You’re like a superhero.”

  “I’m the opposite of that.”

  “What makes you think so?” she asked.

  “Never mind. Too long a story to go into.” That was a lie. It wasn’t a long story. His recklessness had ruined his sister’s life. Period, end of story.

  “Don’t feel like you have to talk to me,” Violet said. “I know we’re both used to living alone.”

  “Feel free to spend evenings in your room.”

  “I will. Thanks.” She pulled her legs under her and drank from her glass. “I’ll just give Dakota a chance to fall into a sound sleep before I go in there. What is this music? Hillbilly hour?”

  “No. It’s modern country. What’s wrong with you?”

  “It sounds like caterwauling,” she said.

  “No way. This is Eric Church. He’s awesome.”

  “Twangy, at best.”

  “You’re so wrong. What do you listen to? Classical? Everything has to be old with you?”

  “I like pop music just fine.”

  “Country is pop music these days. Anyway, I love the old stuff too. Waylon. Willie. George Strait.”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “Do not tell me you don’t know who they are?” he asked.

  “I’ve heard of them, yes.” She rubbed her temples like the music was giving her a headache.

  He shut off the music and tossed her the television remote. “You want to watch something?”

  She slid it back to him. “You choose. I haven’t finished a show in years. I’m always so tired by the end of the day I fall asleep on the couch. Next thing I know, I wake up at two a.m. totally disoriented.”

  Kyle flicked on the television. The channel was set on ESPN where commentators were analyzing the upcoming Sunday games, including Brody’s San Francisco Sharks.

  “Brody Mullen’s in top form,” one of them said. “Never better. In an interview last week, he shut down the rumors of his retirement.”

  Football. Would he be able to watch the games over at Brody’s with the rest of the Dogs? Was his life over as he knew it?

  The enormity of the day’s events washed over him. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t do this. It didn’t matter how many nannies he employed. Raising Mollie was his job and his alone. Therein lay the exact problem. Alone was no good. A little girl needed a mother. He needed a wife and a house and a desire and skills to become a family man. He wasn’t a family man. He couldn’t be like Zane and immediately jump into fatherhood without a moment’s hesitation. How was he supposed to have any kind of life? No dating, no women. He couldn’t bring some random woman home when he had a little baby. Not that he could even go out anyway. He had a baby.

  I have a baby.

  Kyle changed the channel to CNN and muted the volume. He rose from the sofa and went to the windows. What he wanted was to talk to his Dogs. Whenever one of them was in crisis, they called an emergency meeting. Tonight, it was impossible. No one had time for him or his problems. Brody was in the middle of the football season and rarely home. Lance was in San Francisco for a few days with Brody and Kara. Zane was busy building the brewery and planning his wedding with Honor, not to mention being a father to six-year-old Jubie. Honor, an honorary Dog, had done what she could for him, but she needed to be home with her own child. That left Jackson. He was the best guy in the world to talk to when you were in trouble, but he was with Maggie doing whatever married people did. They were all where they belonged. Together with their families. As much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, he was alone.

  Kyle looked at the clock. Only nine. Another hour before it was time to feed Mollie.

  “You want to talk about it?” Violet’s voice made him jump. He’d been so deep in thought he’d almost forgotten she was there.

  He turned to look at her. Earlier she’d changed into sweats and a t-shirt and wrapped her hair into a bun, which highlighted her long neck. The woman was a beauty with her silky caramel skin, light brown hair kissed with streaks of blond, yoga-hard body, and delicate facial features. Her brown eyes, when not focused with laser beams of hatred on him, exuded warmth. That perky little mouth had caught his eye the moment he’d met her—until said perky little mouth had opened and started talking.

  Kyle sat back on the couch. “The truth is, I’m a pack-and-play type of guy.”

  “You’ve been a pack-and-play type of guy. Unless you’ve changed your mind and want to give her up?”

  The idea of giving Mollie away left him gutted. He couldn’t let her go to strangers. She belonged with him. He was her father. God help her, he was her father. “I can’t give her up. Even though it would probably be better for her.”

  “It wouldn’t be.” She paused and drank from her glass. “My dad’s an awful person, but he once told me if I was worried about something to come up with a plan of attack.”

  “I suppose I need a house.” He ran his fingertip around the rim of the glass as words floated through his mind. House. Home. Family.

  “Just take it day by day for a few months. She’s little and won’t remember anything of this time. You can find a permanent home later. This parenting gig is hard enough without beating yourself up. Believe me, if I had a nickel for every time I felt like I’d failed Dakota I wouldn’t have money problems. Which I do. I most definitely do.”

  “That bad?” His heart softened. He knew what it was like to be desperate. Nothing could remedy the stress of money problems.

  “Pretty much,” she said.

  They drank in silence for a few minutes.

  “Is Dakota why you’re still single?” he asked.

  “You mean because having a kid means you have no life?” she asked, clearly amused.

  “That, yeah.”

  “You’re right to be worried, honestly. I’d love to tell you differently, but I’d be lying. Although, you have money, so you can hire people to help you. It’s just been me with an occasional sitter since day one.”

  He groaned and pressed the ridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. “Oh, God.”

  She laughed. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’ll get used to it.”

  “I’d appreciate if you refrained from a lecture on my shallowness, but I was thinking about football.”

  “Football?” she asked.

  “Will I
ever be able to watch another game? And what about poker night?”

  “Your life’s not over. You’ll get babysitters lined up or you can bring Mollie with you places. Honor or Kara will look after her from time to time. Everyone’s going to fall in love with Mollie Blue in an instant.”

  “She’s cute, right? Like extra cute?” he asked.

  “Yes, Papa, she is. You have a village. That village is about to become super important. Days of being a lone wolf are over.”

  “Am I a lone wolf?” he asked.

  “About as lone wolf as a man can get, yes.” She drank more of her wine. “Anyway, everyone but me is about to start having babies. I’ll lay money on it that Kara and Brody are pregnant by spring. I know Maggie and Jackson want one. They’re waiting until her career gets going, but we both know that’s only a matter of time.”

  “Honor and Zane want to adopt if they can,” Kyle said.

  “Or use a surrogate. Zane’s sperm and a borrowed egg.”

  “Borrowed? Is that the right word?”

  She giggled. “No, I mean donated.”

  “That’s not right either. Donor. It’s a donor egg.”

  They both laughed, veering toward the hysterical. Long days and secret babies did that to guy.

  “To answer your previous question, yes, I’m probably single because of Dakota. It’s not that easy to find a man who wants a woman with a kid.”

  “Tons of single mothers get married.” Did they? If he were honest, he wouldn’t have considered getting serious with any woman with a child. That said, he didn’t want to be serious with any woman. He’d vowed never to get married or have a family. He’d already ruined his sister’s life. The one girl who’d needed him more than anyone else, he’d hurt in the worst way. Don’t think about that.

  “Living here’s part of the problem. It’s a small pool of eligible men under the age of seventy,” she said.

  “Have you thought about leaving?” he asked.

  “I probably will.”

  “Really?” He looked over at her, surprised.

  “I should anyway. Someplace bigger. With more opportunities. I need a career. One that will support my son.”