Bare Skin (Skin Deep 5)

“Not my last name.”

“It’s not?” He sounded confused for a second, then nodded. “I guess that’s why Buffy-” He cut himself off.

He ran his hand through his hair, then continued, “I get that it does seem a bit…stalker-ish, I guess…me just showing up out of the blue with no invitation from you. You didn’t call me or anything like that, either, so... Actually, even saying all that out loud like that makes it sound even worse. Fuck, I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?”

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips but held it back. “Well, you really aren’t making such a great case for yourself. Regardless of how stalker-ish this whole thing is, seriously. What are you doing here?”

He caught my gaze and held it. “I honestly don’t know. But I couldn’t guarantee myself that you would actually use my number and that bothered me. I have no fucking idea why, but there it is. Truth.”

Things tightened low in my belly at his words. Things that had no business tightening and getting all tingly like they were. “Look-” I started to speak, but he spoke over me.

“Have dinner with me.”

His words weren’t a question. It was more of a demand. And it got my automatic response.

“No.”

He barely blinked at that, still staring at me intently. “Then have lunch with me.”

I had to give him credit for his tenacity, but I couldn’t afford any distractions. Especially not the sexy-as-sin-and-would-probably-fuck-me-stupid kind, aka HIM. But still… “No.”

I said it louder than I intended, and then winced when he took a startled step backwards, his hands coming up, palms out facing me in a motion I could only describe as half defensive, half placating. I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, counting to ten silently in my head. I wasn’t trying to alienate him, but Jesus, did he have to be so fucking gorgeous and relentless?

A faint sound caught my attention just as he opened his mouth to speak. He must have heard it, too, as his head jerked toward the door behind me, his eyes narrowing. “Do you have company? Is that it?”

I shook my head. “Look, I have to go.” My tone brooked no argument, but he still stepped toward me, his hand reaching for me as I turned and slid my keycard into the slot.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

I opened the door enough to slide through, stopping only long enough to look at him. “You never know.”

With that, I closed the door behind me, leaning back against it and releasing a long, heavy breath, just as the small whimper I had heard faintly through the door turned into a full out wail. I rushed to the playpen, now devoid of toys and only holding an unhappy baby, and scooped him up into my arms, cooing in his ear and patting his diaper-clad bottom as I bounced and swayed him in my arms.

He squirmed sleepily in my arms for a moment before beaming up at me with his precious little smile that always seemed to make everything seem like it would be okay. I kissed the tip of his nose and then his cheek, chatting to him as I moved through the room. “Morning, sunshine! Did you have a nice nap? Let’s get you changed, huh?”

I made short work of a diaper change and decided to hit up the grocery store to stock up on formula and baby food before grabbing some lunch.

I did the normal routine of loading up the diaper bag, strapping the baby into his carrier, and turning myself into a pack mule before I checked for my keycard once more, and left the hotel room, heading for the elevators.

I quickly did a grocery store run, the baby happily cooing from his seat that I had snapped onto the cart as I pushed it through the aisles, grabbing a few things here and there. I had just turned into the pop/water aisle and had to stop quickly to avoid running into another shopper that had stopped to grab a twelve pack.

“I’m so sorry!” I called, a breathy little laugh following my apology. Thank God I’d been able to pull the cart back on time so I didn’t hit…

“So now who’s stalking who?” a warm, delicious, overly male voice said.

I squeezed my eyes tight and took a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh as I looked up into the green eyes I’d just sent away from my door.

“Calland,” I greeted, my tone just a bit warmer than cold, and just a touch exasperated.

“Red. Did you follow me?” he asked, jokingly, but then I saw his eyes take in my cart and all that was in it. He stepped forward, and I felt prickling warmth at my side. I watched a hand move into view, my breath catching as Calland gently stroked the curve of the baby’s head where he rested in his carrier.

“You have a baby.”

It was a statement, not a question. But he was wrong.

“No. I mean, yes, but…” I floundered, unsure of how to explain without getting into too much detail.

“So, he’s not yours. Are you babysitting? For Cara maybe?” he asked, chuckling as the baby grasped at his hand, trying to bring it to his mouth.

“No, I’m not babysitting. He’s not my son, but he’s mine. I’ve raised him since the day he was born.”

“Are you adopting him?”

“No.” I didn’t offer anything more, but I knew he was going to keep asking anyway.

“So, what’s his name?” Calland asked, glancing down at the content little face peering up at him, now gnawing on his knuckle. “And how old is he?”

“Kade. His name’s Kaden James, and he’s almost eight months old,” I replied softly.

“His last name is James? Is that your last name?’

I shook my head. “That’s his middle name. And no, it’s not my last name. Don’t push, Calland.”

My eyes were pleading with him, asking him silently not to pry. I had too many secrets that weren’t mine to tell, and I wasn’t sure just how this whole endeavor was going to play out. I’d come too far, risked too much for something, or someone, to come along and blow everything up.

Surprisingly, he let it go.