My Bestie's Dad

I giggle.

“So you’d be a father and a grandfather at once? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

Brent merely shrugs and grins.

“It happens. Weirder things have gone down in the world. Now come here, honey. You have some frosting on your chin.”

With that, I cuddle next to him on the couch, reveling in the warmth of his big form. But what was he hinting at? Does Brent want more children with me? The thought makes my heart race and my insides go liquid, because that’s what I want too.8Jane* * *The following Saturday morning, I’m stretching in Brent’s bed. His bedroom is dark and lovely, due to his blackout curtains. Right now, I can hear him banging around downstairs because my man is cooking me breakfast after a night of passionate fun.

I stretch luxuriously. Could life get any better? I sigh with satisfaction and almost purr like a kitten. Being with Brent Marshall is amazing.

I lay back against the soft pillows and sink deeply into the silk before drifting away once more. His smooth sheets feel cool on my naked skin. I close my eyes and a lazy smile crosses my face. I’m in paradise. But then, there are voices in the hallway and I bolt upright. Oh shit, it must be Harlow! Another surprise visit? Why?

I sprint nude to his closet and take shelter just as the door flies wide open.

I see them through the slats. There’s a tall, thin blond woman, and it’s not Harlow. It’s her mother, Catherine. What is she doing here? I almost gasp audibly but manage to keep my mouth shut.

“I miss this room, Brent,” she purrs.

“Catherine, I told you not to come in here,” he growls. He looks around the room with desperation, and relaxes a tiny bit when he sees I’m not there.

“I miss us, Brent.”

“Catherine, we’ve been divorced for years. This is not the time to backtrack. Did Dr. Jones change your medication again?”

She pouts.

“I see a new therapist now. Dr. Love.”

He laughs dryly.

“Dr. Love? His name is really Dr. Love?”

“It’s a her, and you don’t have to be all snitty about it. Besides, that’s not the point. The point is that she tells me that I need to go for what I want, and Brent, what I want is you. I know you’ve been seeing someone, but we can figure that out.”

I squint in the darkness. What the hell? This is such a confusing situation. But my man handles it calmly.

“What makes you think I’m seeing someone?”

She bends over and grabs my bra from the floor.

“This, for one. Unless you have a secret hobby of cross-dressing? Which would explain some things about the divorce....”

He yanks it from her hand and demands, “How did you know I was seeing someone before you got here today?”

Catherine waves one skinny hand in the air.

“Margaret Keener says you were at the movies last week with some girl young enough to be your daughter.”

I gulp audibly, but then try to stay silent once more.

His jaw tightens.

“And what if I am?”

Catherine makes a pffft noise with her lips.

“Please. You need a real woman in your life. You always have. You’re not the type of guy who’s good on his own, and no little hoochie who knows nothing about life is going to satisfy you. That’s why I never understood why you threw me out.”

He growls, his eyes suddenly fierce.

“Fucking other guys is grounds for divorce, Catherine.”

I am blown away. Harlow never said her mom cheated on her dad! Does my friend even know?

But Catherine takes it in a stride.

“Fucking other guys is not a big deal. It was just a passing whim, Brent, and I’m over it. Plus, you’re fucking someone right now, and look at me. Do I look disturbed? No. We’ll figure it out. Besides, I know you know you want me. Remember how I could make you feel?”

He literally shudders.

“Yes, I do. That’s exactly why I want you to leave.”

She licks her lips.

“No, you don’t. You want me to—”

“You need to go, Catherine.”

“No, I don’t,” she saunters closer to him. “I need you to tell me you want me.”

The knots in my stomach have their own knots. This is a total nightmare: my boyfriend’s ex has shown up out of nowhere to seduce him and I have a unwitting front row seat to the show.

Brent slowly but clearly says, “The only thing I want from you is for you to leave.”

She pouts, “This is my home, too.”

His expression is grim.

“Not in over a decade.”

“Who is the whore who’s keeping you from me?”

He snaps, “Excuse you?”

She crosses her bony arms and demands, “Who is she? Some cow, by the size of that bra. I could parachute in that giant thing. What’s wrong, Brent, you couldn’t get a fit woman who takes care of herself?”

“Catherine,” his voice drops to an angry place and it frightens me. “My love is half your age and twice the woman you could ever be, and if you so much as say another negative word about her again, I will go to the judge and tell him about your trespassing. I will also manufacture anything else I need to about our past to get him to adjust your alimony. You can be sure of that. You’ve been living off of me for more than ten years now, and it’s time that stopped.”