Lust (Vegas Nights 2)

“But—”

“You can’t sleep at Zac’s if you don’t get dressed.”

Lola shriek-gasped. “’Kay!”

Perrie gripped the railing, leaned over, and pointed a finger at me. Her look told me to not dare say a word, so I didn’t. I grinned instead. A big, fat, shit-eating grin while she sighed.

Adrian: One. Perrie: Zero.

For now.

***

“Is the dress still necessary?” I muttered, stabbing a pancake with my fork.

She glanced at the kids, both of whom had their faces shoved in the screen of Zac’s tablet. “What are you talking about? It’s a dress. It covers a lot of me.”

The fact I knew what was under it aside, that was part of the problem. “If it you get a gust of wind, everyone will see.”

She shot a pointed look out of the window. “Oh, yes. It’s practically a hurricane out there.”

I offered her my own pointed look—but mine was withering.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s only because we’re here. I’ll be wearing yoga pants the moment I get home.”

“Yoga pants are quite restrictive.”

“Actually, they happen to be the better half of jeans.”

“That wasn’t the restrictive I meant.”

“I know what you meant—I’m simply choosing to ignore it.”

I sighed. “I’m starting to remember why I haven’t dated in years.”

Zac perked up at that. “Are you dating Perrie, Dad?”

“No,” Perrie said at the same time I said, “I am now.”

Zac frowned.

Perrie glared at me. “We are not dating.”

“Are we at a breakfast date?”

“Well, yes, but so are the kids, and—”

“Breakfast. Date,” I said, putting extra inflection on the final word.

Lola sighed. “First a sleepover with no play fighting. Now you don’t know if you’re being gross adults.”

Zac wrinkled his face up and looked at Lola. “They had a sleepover and I wasn’t invited?”

Fucking hell. Here we go.

“Yes,” Lola answered, shoving a strawberry in her mouth and biting so juice trickled down her chin. “I woke up this morning and they were in the same bed and it scared me.”

“Please wipe your chin,” Perrie asked her.

“Ewww,” Zac replied. “That’s not fair. Why did they get a sleepover and we didn’t?”

“Because you were at your aunt’s,” I answered.

“It’s definitely not fair.” Lola bit into the strawberry again, squirting more juice. “But Mommy said we can have one tonight if we got dressed, and I did.”

Yes. She did get dressed—into hot pink shorts and a lime green shirt. Perrie had argued with her for ten minutes over the color clash before Lola informed her she was a grown-up and able to choose her own outfit.

It had been too much stimulation over coffee for my liking.

“We should play Minecraft and stuff criminals in holes again,” Zac said, tapping at the tablet screen and starting a new episode of whatever insanity-inducing kids program they were quietly watching.

“Lola, please wipe your face,” Perrie tried again.

“We should put my mom and your dad in a hole until they figure out if they’re dating or not.”

“That’s not—”

“Cool! I think I have spades. My yard is big enough for that.” Zac nodded.

“Do they need food?”

“Maybe. We could throw cookies and chips in.”

“Okay, but I might eat them first.”

Zac patted Lola’s hand. “We’ll carry extra.”

Lola beamed.

My attention flicked back and forth between them during that whole exchange. Perrie looked mildly concerned at their rapidly escalating plan, so I decided it was my turn to step in and put a stop to it.

“Okay, Zac? What are the rules about throwing people in holes?”

“Only in video games,” he muttered.

“Aw.” Lola pouted.

“And we are definitely dating. Perrie’s just being silly.”

The woman in question said, “We’re not dating, okay? We’re friends.”

Friends who are dating.

“See? I think she hit her head last night when she was sleeping.”

Lola’s gaze flitted between us and she leaned over, into Perrie. “Mommy, he is very handsome.”

“He gets that from me.” Zac puffed out his chest.

Perrie bit her lip. “He sure does. Look at your muscles.”

“I know, right? John Cena is jealous.” He held his arm to the side and flexed his “bicep.”

She leaned over and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Wow—my goodness. You are so strong.”

Zac beamed with delight. “Oh, Lola, this is my favorite bit! They’re about to become the Power Rangers.”

Perrie picked up her coffee. “This is the most dysfunctional breakfast I’ve ever had.”

I snorted into my own mug. “Join the club.”

***

Having kids isn’t for the light-hearted or the impatient. Or those who actually like to be listened to once in a while.

The pool rules were simple. Don’t run, don’t dive, and don’t drown.

Of course, that meant my son, the daredevil, ran, dived, and almost drowned.

Fuck, almost drowned was an exaggeration, but the inch-long scrape on his leg wasn’t. I’d tried telling him that our above ground pool wasn’t like his nan’s and he couldn’t dive into it, because he had to climb into ours, not just jump.

Adult logic was too much for him, because that’s what he’d done. Given himself a running start, scraped his leg on one of the poles in the frame, and then belly-flopped into the pool. I wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed any of it, but the cut had looked worse than it was, and Perrie had patched it up pretty swiftly.