The Right Kind of Love (28 page)

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Authors: Kennedy Kelly

BOOK: The Right Kind of Love
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And I knew down to my bones that I had to put a ring on my girl sooner than later.

A week later

Damien

“H
ey, Damien, there’s someone out front to see you,” Ginger the receptionist said.

“Ginger, can’t you tell I’m in the middle of a tat? They’ll have to wait until I’m done. You know I hate interruptions when I’m working on a tat.” I could hear the clip in my tone, but I couldn’t help it I was so focused and I didn’t want to stop. Damn interruptions. I resumed working on the large tribal art design that spread across my client's shoulder and back. I hated interruptions.

“Damien, I don’t think you want to make them wait.” Ginger knew the drill. When I was working with a client, there were no interruptions. This must be pretty important.

“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. I got to go check this shit out. I’ll be right back.” I set down my machine and took off my gloves.

“No problem. Take your time,” said my client. I’m sure he wanted a break. I’d been working on his piece for the last two hours and his skin had to be tender.

I walked out to the reception area and Ginger pointed to a woman who was there with a baby in a baby carrier. What the fuck did she want with me? She looked vaguely familiar. “Hi, what can I do for you?”

The baby started to cry, and the woman picked it up. “You don’t remember me?”

“I’m sorry, but I have no clue who you are. And I’m in the middle of a piece with a client, so you need to make it quick. ” She peered up at me from where she was sitting and her eyes narrowed.

“We had one night together around ten months ago. I can’t believe you don’t remember. It was hot.”

“Sorry, you are?” I need to get this shit over with and get to the fucking point.

She looked offended. “I’m Becca and this is your little boy, Mason.”

Did she just say my little boy? What the fuck was this chick talking about? I don’t even remember being with her, but if I were honest, I didn’t recognize half the chicks I’d fucked. I looked over my shoulder and Ginger seemed to be intently listening. I needed to take this shit to my office. “How about we go to my office where we can talk privately?”

“Sure, that would be perfect.” She gathered up the baby she said was mine and followed me back to my office.

We got into my office and I closed the door behind her. “So let’s get this straight. You’re saying that kid is mine?”

I looked down at him he looked nothing like me. He did have my hair color but so did his mom. So that really didn’t say much. Any person in my boots would freak the hell out, but I wasn’t the least bit frazzled. I knew I always gloved my shit before I engaged in any type of sexual act. There was always a chance that some of my sperm could have slipped out of the condom, but hell, I don’t think that was possible. I mean, condoms were ninety-nine percent effective. I’ve read the box. So the odds were in my favor here.

“Yes, I’m quite certain he’s yours.”

“Well, I always wrap my shit up, so I’m certain he isn’t mine.” I’ve never had a condom break, and there hasn’t been a time I went without other than with Sydney.

Sydney. Fuck, how was I going to tell her about this?

“I’m quite certain,” she said with a sneer on her face. “Don’t you want to be in your baby’s life?”

“With all due respect, he’s not my baby.” I could feel it deep in my bones that he wasn’t mine.

“You owe me one month of child support. But I could forget about that if you wanted to be involved with us.”

What was this chick saying? That she wanted us to be a couple and a happy little family? No fucking way that was happening. Plus, she obviously was trying to get money from me. I think this story ran a little deeper than she was letting on. “We’ll need to get a DNA test to figure out if that is the case. If I’m the father, I’ll gladly pay you child support and petition for my rights as the baby’s father. I hope you know I’m not the enemy. I’m a good guy. I take responsibility for what is mine. But honestly, I’m telling you, he’s not mine.”

She started to cry. “You don’t’ want us?”

What the fuck was up with the waterworks? “I’m sorry, but I’m already in a relationship with a woman that I love beyond words. He’s a cute kid and all, but I know he’s not mine.”

“We can have a paternity test done to prove he is,” she pleaded.

“That’s what I suggested earlier, so yeah, not a problem at all. But I don’t want to see you showing up here at my shop thinking we’re one little happy family.”

She turned the waterworks on even more. “You mean you don’t want to get to know your son?”

Looking at the kid again, there was clearly no resemblance. “Sorry, I don’t. And I know he’s not my son. If for some strange reason the tests come back that he’s my child, I will gladly do what I need to for him.”

The baby started fussing some more when his pacifier came out of his mouth. She quickly replaced it. “Okay, well, I’ll have the paternity test set up with my doctor, and I’ll let you know where to go and when. Can I at least get your number?”

Fuck that shit. I wasn’t giving her my number, so she could call me at all hours of the night. “You can reach me here at the shop, but actually, I’ll set up the test with my doctor. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll tell you when and where.” I gave her the number here and then went to the door and opened it. “I’ve got to get back to my client. So you can see yourself out.”

“You don’t have to be so rude.” She picked up the baby carrier and walked out the door.

Fuck, what was I going to tell Sydney? This wasn’t going to go over well at all.

I picked up my phone and began sending her a text.

Me: How are my beautiful girls?

Sydney: How do you know our baby is beautiful?

Me: Because I know she’s going to look just like her momma.

Sydney: Well, her momma has cankles, is big, and is very tired. I feel like I have constant dark circles under my eyes.

Me: Well, you’re beautiful to me. Maybe you should cut back your hours at the salon? I can take care of you. I’m making really good money right now and it would do me the greatest honor to be able to financially provide for you and our baby.

Sydney: We’ll see.

Me: Yeah, we’ll definitely see.

If I had my say about it, my girl would be at home resting more often. I didn’t want her to have to work so hard.

Sydney: Well, I have to get back to work. My next client is here.

Me: Okay, baby, what time will you be home tonight?

Sydney: My last client is at seven. Got to go.

Me: Love you.

Sydney: Love you, too.

Tonight was going to be difficult. I would have to tell Sydney about the little visit that just occurred. I hoped she took the news well, but my gut told me that wasn’t going to happen.

Sydney

As I opened the garage door into the kitchen, the dogs ran at me full force and were excited to see me. They tangled around my feet and almost tripped me. There was no doubt they’d been waiting for one of us to get home.

With Bee working the graveyard shift and Damien typically getting home around nine or so, there was no doubt they’d been waiting for me to get home. I leaned down, picked up Zeus, and then started scratching Zoey behind the ear. She was such a good girl, and I couldn’t be happier to have her.

“You two want to go outside?” Zoey immediately ran to the sliding glass door. I set down Zeus and he followed her.

They got along great, which was a blessing. They were both very attentive to me. When I was sitting down Zoey, would hop up next to me, and put her head on my belly. I could tell she was already protective of the baby. She was an excellent dog, and I felt secure with my safety knowing she was around.

I let the dogs out to do their business and went to the fridge to pull out something to cook for dinner. I didn’t know why I was cooking. What I really needed to do was to get off my swollen feet and give my body a rest. I was exhausted from a long day at work. Maybe I would cut back my hours like Damien had suggested.

Just as I had finished the rice and chicken that was roasting in the oven, the door from the garage swung open, and Damien strolled in. He instantly came to my side and planted a deep, wet, and delicious kiss to my lips.

“Hi, baby, how are my girls?”

“I’m beat and your baby has been kicking me most of the day.” I sure hoped that tonight when I tried to sleep that she would stop with all of this kicking nonsense.

He protectively placed his hand over my belly and the baby chose that time to kick. “Damn, she is kicking. I think we have a little soccer player on our hands.”

“Um, no, she’s going to be a ballerina.” She was going to be a little princess if I had anything to say about it.

“Well, she can do both.” He winked at me.

“We’ll see.” He kissed my neck and then went to check the even to see what I was cooking.

“Something smells good.”

“I made rosemary chicken, rice pilaf, and seasoned green beans.” I hoped like hell he liked my dinner. I hadn’t made this dish for him. It was one my mom used to make all of the time, and I loved it.

“It sounds delicious and I can’t wait to try it. But, I have to say, you shouldn’t have cooked, babe. You look beat.” He looked down at my swollen feet. “And your poor feet are so swollen, you should have them up.”

He was so caring. Always thinking of me. “It’s no problem. I wanted to cook for you.”

“You are too good to me. From now on, I’m going to leave the shop a little earlier and I’ll be cooking for you. And I won’t take no for an answer.” He had a look on his face that said don’t mess with me.

“But—”

“There are no buts. I’m doing it.”

Well, hot damn, Mr. Alpha was making his appearance tonight. I hoped he kept it up later on in the bedroom. It was hot has hell.

“Fine,” I conceded.

“I’m gonna run upstairs and take a shower, sweets. I’ll be back in ten.” He walked his sexy ass out of the room and my panties started to get a little wet.

We were settled into dinner and having light conversation. “So how was your day, honey? Any interesting pieces? You know how I love hearing about your work. Your talent amazes me.”

“Interesting for sure. I did a huge tribal back piece. He was a new client that I think will become a regular.”

“That is wonderful, baby.” I could tell there was more. “So tell me how it was interesting?” I said before taking in a fork full of food.

“I had a visitor today.” Oh, this was getting interesting. I could only imagine that it was one of his skanks.

“Do tell?” I inquired.

“Before I tell you more, I want you to know that this doesn’t affect us or the baby. I don’t want you to get upset or freak out.” My stomach dipped, and it wasn’t the good kind of delicious dip I normally got from my man.

“Go on,” I pushed for more.

“This woman, who I can’t for the life of me remember, came into the shop today with her baby.” My heart sank in my chest, and I felt like the air was knocked clear out of my body like being sucker punched.

“And?” I prompted him. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“Before you draw assumptions about what I’m going to say next, I want you to know I don’t believe what she told me.” He had stopped eating. I could tell this was really troubling him. His tone had changed, and he was staring out me with a wash of apprehension spread across his beautiful face.

“Okay.”

“She’s claiming the baby is mine.”

Tears hit my eyes. Why would he want a baby with me that isn’t his if he could have his own baby that was his blood? “Well, does he look like you?”

“Not one bit. The only thing that is similar is our hair color. But his mother’s hair is the same color.”

“I see.” The tears started making a trail down my face. How could this be happening to us?

“Honey, please don’t cry.” He reached across the table to place my hand in his, and I instantly pulled away. He gave me a strange look but didn’t press. “I always wrap my shit up. There’s no way that it’s mine.”

“But you don’t know that, Damien,” I said between sobs.

He got up from the table to sit next to me, pulling me into his arms. “Please don’t cry. I’m telling you it’s not mine. Just to be sure, we’re having a paternity test done. I did some research online and it says it takes about two weeks.” I pulled away from him.

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