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Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

Page 12

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There's no parking directly outside the ice cream shop. We park several blocks away. The kid grabs my hand right before we cross the street at the traffic light. The city is bustling with the rush hour crowd, and while I'm not used to holding such a tiny hand, I'm as good as dead if I lose the kid.

As we head the last block toward the ice cream shop, I swear I catch sight of her long blonde hair.

Savannah? I blink rapidly. I doubt it's her. Unless she's following me, she doesn't seem to notice me as she hurries into a nearby coffee shop.

"I need to make a stop first," I say.

"But ice cream," the seven-year-old whines.

"We will, kid. Just give me a minute." I practically drag Zion to hurry with me across the street as we head inside the coffee shop. I'm not inconspicuous, but I'm not trying to be. I can order myself a coffee.

Zion grumbles but relents as I usher him inside the small café. The working crowd mainly occupies a few tables and chairs as they type away at their laptops and sip their overpriced coffee.

He drops my hand, no longer finding it necessary to cling to me, and I'm eternally grateful. I'm not used to being around kids. Being an only child, it's not like I had a younger sibling I was forced to babysit.

"I want ice cream," Zion whines.

"That'll be our next stop," I say. There's no sign of Savannah, which is odd considering she waltzed into the café. Well, some blonde woman with her height and build did. I swore it was her.

But there's no sign of her or anyone else fitting her description. Maybe the blonde worked here and slipped into the back to get ready? I stalk up to the counter and order a small coffee, black. I don't want anything fancy.

Zion is at my side, studying the muffins and scones on display. "Can I have one?" he asks, pointing at the sweet treat.

"That depends. Would you rather have that or ice cream?"

"Ice cream," he says in his sweet, innocent, high-pitched voice. There's a grin on his face like he knows he's not supposed to have either so close to dinner, but he's getting away with breaking the rules.

Yeah, I'm the rule breaker.

If I mess up the kid, Nikita won't ask me to handle babysitting duty. Not bad. I don't want to see him get hurt. But maybe too much sugar will bounce him off the walls when we get back to the compound.

Assuming Nikita and Lucy will be back home by the time we arrive.

He'd better be. I didn't sign up for babysitting duty. I need to get back to the club to handle the accounts before the guests start pouring in and the dancers have to get ready.

I pull out a twenty and pay the cashier when I hear Savannah's voice from behind.

"Are you following me?" she asks.

"I could ask the same about you," I say, glancing at her over my shoulder.

She presses her lips tight, and her eyes narrow, forcing a smile. What the hell is she hiding?

"I was using the bathroom," she says and points toward the darkened hallway where the single-occupancy bathroom is situated. Savannah glances down at the kid beside me. "You didn't tell me you were a dad."

"He's not my dad," Zion quips before I can answer. "I don't have a dad. My dad came from the bank."

Savannah's brow pinches, confused by his comment, and it's probably for the best. "Where'd you hear that?" I laugh awkwardly at Zion.

"Mommy was talking, and I overheard her. But I don't understand," Zion says.

"Good," I mutter under my breath. "Ask your mom, kid." I don't have it in me to go anywhere further with this conversation.

"So, not your son," Savannah says and offers a smile. She's trying to piece together Zion's relation to me. Well, I'll let her think on it a little while longer. What fun is it to give away all my secrets?

I shuffle out of the way, and Savannah orders the fanciest coffee imaginable while I wait for the barista to finish preparing my drink. It's taking longer than it should have since I ordered it black. Do they have to go and grow the damn coffee beans?

"Order for Anton," the barista says, handing me the black coffee. The paper exterior is already hot, indicating the coffee will be steaming when I take a sip.

"Can we go for ice cream now?" Zion whines. The kid is losing his patience, and I don't blame him.

"Yeah," I say. I glance back at Savannah and offer a weak smile. "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye," she says and gives a wave to the little boy.

I head with Zion for the door, and a gentleman in a business suit exits and holds the door for us. I can't help but stare. Where the hell was he seated? I glanced over at everyone in the café but hadn't noticed him.

Weird.

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