Risky (Adventures in Love 2)
Page 31
“Hey, pumpkin.” He walks over, giving Mason a weary look before he takes Taylor from her mom. “Are you having a good day with Mommy?” he asks, and she says something I can’t really make out, because it’s a mixture of baby talk and words that are almost whispered.
“She had been looking forward to spending the day with you today,” Margret tells him softly while touching Taylor’s hair.
“Sorry, pumpkin. Something came up.” He kisses the top of Taylor’s head. I chew on my bottom lip, feeling awkward and angry on Margret and Taylor’s behalf, because my guess is what “came up” is the redhead, who took off when he came over to comfort his daughter. One good thing Lex did was make it clear he had no desire to be a dad. Yes, I had hoped and convinced myself that he would change, but I was not surprised when he didn’t.
Watching this situation, I’m happy Sam won’t have to go through this kind of disappointment. Not to say that one day he’s not going to have some hard questions for me to answer about his father, but I hope it’s at a time when he can really understand the full scope of the situation.
“We need to go,” Margret says, and I can’t tell if her ex looks relieved or disappointed when she takes Taylor from him.
“Sure.” He steps back and tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’ll call you and let you know when I can pick her up this week.”
“Whatever,” she mutters under her breath before looking at me. “I’ll see you tonight, Everly.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’ll see you tonight.” With a jerk of her chin, she takes off with Taylor in her arms, and Mason walks next to her with his arm around her waist, pushing the shopping cart with one hand.
“Sorry about that,” her ex says to me as they disappear around the corner, and I frown at him. “She gets a little crazy sometimes.”
“Does she?” I ask sarcastically, but he must not catch it, because he runs his fingers through his hair and smiles what I’m sure is his most charming smile.
“Yeah.”
“Well, maybe she wouldn’t act ‘crazy’”—I make air quotes—“if you didn’t make her that way.” I hold up my hand when it looks like he’s going to speak. “What I saw just a second ago is a mom who wants the father of her child to spend time with his daughter and is confused why he doesn’t want the same thing.” I grab hold of my cart, then toss my hair over my shoulder. “Good day to you, sir.” I storm off, then press my lips together, thinking that I really need to stop reading so many historical romances.
With Sam napping and laundry going, I step out onto my parents’ back porch with the baby monitor. I set it on the small side table next to the couch and take a seat, wishing it wasn’t too early to drink, because I could totally do with a shot of tequila right about now. After having the day to think things over, I decided that I should call Lex and clear the air rather than text so there’s no confusion. After dialing his number, I put the phone on speaker and listen to it ring, hoping secretly that he doesn’t answer, and I can say I tried.
“Everly.” He picks up, sounding like he’s out of breath.
“Hey.” I stand up and walk to the edge of the porch that overlooks my parents’ small overgrown back yard.
“Did you get my messages?” he asks, and I roll my eyes skyward.
“I did, which is why I needed some time to think about how I would respond.”
“How you would respond?” He sounds confused.
“About you asking if you need to get a DNA test,” I remind him, and I hear him moving around. “I needed to think about how to respond to that kind of question, since you know I never cheated on you, and you also know I never pressured you into being a father.”
“You had a baby, Everly. What more pressure did I need?” he asks, and a spark of anger starts in my lower belly.
“I did have a baby, Lex, a baby you have not had one thing to do with.”
“I told you I didn’t want to be a father.”
“I know, which is why I haven’t asked you to step up to the plate to be there, neither emotionally nor financially.”
“My mom is convinced that the guy you brought with you to meet her is his real father,” he says, and I want to tell him exactly what I think of his mother, but I know nothing I say would be very nice, so I swallow the urge down. I do not want to argue with him. I don’t even want to talk to him, but I know I need to get this done with.