She shook her head. “Don’t fool yourself. Courts take pity on mothers. Especially ones who were coerced into giving up custody in the first place by their ex-husband. The situation wasn’t at all fair and I’ll have no problem telling my story in court.” She blinked up at him, the fake tears in her eyes a definite threat.
“What do you want?” he asked past gritted teeth. Although he already knew.
She wanted more money to go away and leave Bailey alone.
“Pay me,” she said, confirming his hunch. “You owe me for screwing up my body to give birth in the first place.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no way in hell he’d let her near his child. The problem with paying her was if he gave in now, there would be no end to her blackmail in the future. Every time she ran low on cash, she’d return with the same threat of taking him to court to regain her parental rights with a bullshit sob story.
She was a very good actress. Good enough to convince a judge she was a loving mother who’d had her child wrongfully taken away in the first place. Hadn’t he fallen for her claims of love, of having gotten pregnant by accident, of them being in it together… until she was ready to admit to the truth? Pins in his condoms worked wonders. Kayla was a classic walking, talking cliché and he’d fallen for every one of her tricks.
He schooled his face into a bored mask, refusing to show her how much her threat rattled him. “I’m not paying you, Kayla. You got your settlement.” But he needed time to think of a better plan.
She shook her head and smiled. “You will. You’ll walk back inside, take one look at the little girl who looks just like you, and you’ll do anything to keep her away from me. I can wait for you to come around.” She patted his cheek and he flinched at her unwanted touch.
“Go away.”
She treated him to a patronizing wink. “Just don’t take too long. I might get bored and go talk to a lawyer and tell him your girlfriend is a little young. As well as everything else I mentioned.” She pivoted on her heel and strode away.
He didn’t bother correcting her that Mia was the nanny. “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath. He stood outside for another solid five minutes, breathing in the cool air. He needed the time to calm the fuck down before heading inside and facing his daughter.
* * *
Nobody talked about Bailey’s mother’s visit, at least not that Mia heard. The adults were careful of her little, always attentive ears. She was immediately distracted by dessert after her sandwich and she never even asked who was at the door earlier. But Austin had been stressed and on edge for the rest of the afternoon.
Mia took the girls outside to play on the big wooden swing set in the yard, and she was certain Austin used the time to fill his parents in on whatever had gone on with his ex. Her heart went out to him because he’d definitely been anxious and off ever since.
Luckily, Bailey fell asleep early and easily thanks to the morning walking around the zoo and the afternoon outside. Mia had a small television in her room and was going to watch TV, but she wanted a cup of tea first, so she headed to the kitchen, surprised to find Austin sitting in the dark.
“Do you mind?” she asked softly, her hand on the light switch.
“Go ahead.” She turned on the overheads.
He sat in one of the kitchen chairs, looking rumpled and sexy, his hair standing on end from his hand running through it, a pair of track pants on his hips, and no shirt covering his upper body. Her gaze locked on the sexy tattoo trailing up one arm, from his wrist up to, and over, his shoulder, his bare, muscular chest causing flutters in her belly.
“I was just going to get tea. Can I make you some?” she asked. “I picked up some chamomile. It might help you relax.” She guessed the reason he sat in the kitchen was stress over today’s mess with his ex.
“Why not? Nothing else is helping.”
She pulled two mugs from the counter. One of the things she appreciated about this job was the easy instant hot attached to the sink. No taking time to boil water for a cup of hot tea.
“Sugar or milk?” she asked him.
“Plain. Like my coffee.”
She added water, dropped the teabags in the cups, and put sugar in hers only. “I’m a good listener,” she offered, placing his mug in front of him on the table. “And unloading might help your blood pressure a lot more than the tea.”
She waited for him to meet her gaze and nod before joining him, settling into the chair beside his.
“I’m not really sure where to begin.”
She shrugged. “Try the beginning. I find it’s the simplest place.”