Tempt the Hookup (Tempt 3)

I change out of my outfit and put on yoga pants and a loose top that falls off the shoulder, then walk to the backyard. “Hey,” I tell Aiden. “Your dad is home.”

“Can I go now?” he asks me, walking down the steps. I walk out, watching him walk next door. He doesn’t even knock; he just walks in and closes the door.

I take out my phone and call Luca. “Hey,” he answers right away.

“I’ll be a couple of minutes. I want to start a couple of loads of laundry,” I tell him.

“Take your time,” he tells me, and I hang up, getting all our stuff ready for tomorrow. When I finally walk over, I ring the bell. I hear footsteps, and I smile, and then I see him, and my mouth suddenly goes dry.

Luca stands there and gone is his suit and in its place is basketball shorts and a T-shirt. “Hey, I was just starting the grill,” he says, moving out of the way so I can walk in. We have the same floor plan, but his house has more wood colors, and it just shows the difference between us. Where I’m light, he’s dark.

“Mommy.” Aiden runs to me. “Come and see my room,” he says, grabbing my hand and dragging me upstairs to his room, and I look around in shock. “It’s a Batcave,” he says, holding up his hands, and I look around, and it literally looks like a Batcave, everything is Batman. From the bed, to the comforter, to the lamp. It even has Aiden spelled over his bed in all bats.

“Isn’t it cool?” he says, and I look around and walk out the door and notice that Luca’s door is closed. I walk downstairs and see him walking in with the plate of burgers.

“Do you want to eat inside or outside?” he asks, and Aiden jumps around, shouting outside.

“What can I do to help?” I ask him, looking around his brown kitchen.

“You can grab the fries out of the oven and then the condiments,” he says, putting the burgers on the stove and asking Aiden if he wants cheese or not.

I grab the ketchup from the fridge and put some on his burger, then leave it out. We make our burgers inside and walk outside to the table. “I think I missed this the most,” I say while chewing. “Although Paris had the best almond croissants, they didn’t have the best burgers.”

“If I could eat anything for the rest of my life, it would be burgers,” he says, leaning over and biting into his.

“I would eat spaghetti,” Aiden says. “Or pizza.”

“Next time,” Luca says between chews, “I’ll take you to my favorite Italian restaurant. The owners come straight from Italy. Giovanni makes the best sugo around,” he tells Aiden, who just nods his head.

“After we eat can I go play in my room?” he asks Luca, who just nods his head at him. For the rest of the meal, Luca and Aiden get to know each other. Aiden is very free to tell him his favorite color, favorite truck, dinosaur, and most importantly, his favorite things to snack on.

When we finish, I walk inside after Luca and Aiden and place the plates in the sink and rinse them off. “Do you mind if I put them in the dishwasher?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can do it when you guys leave,” he says, putting everything away in the fridge.

“I think we should maybe talk about things.” I grab a towel and dry my hands.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Let’s go sit on the couch.” He walks into the living room. His big leather couch doesn’t look comfortable, but once you sit in it, you sink in.

“You would think I would be used to discussing things when it comes to children,” he starts off saying. “But I’m suddenly nervous.” He gets up and goes to grab a yellow legal pad. I have to shake my head, always the lawyer.

“Why don’t we go step by step?” I tell him. “School drop-off and pick ups?”

“I can drop him off in the morning,” he says, writing it down. “My schedule is pretty much flexible unless I’m in court.”

“That works good for me. Although I work from home, I have to go into the office three days a week,” I tell him, and he just nods.

“Perfect, so one thing is done,” he says. “I owe you back child support,” he says, and I shake my head. “Please.” His voice goes soft. “I’ve seen too many dead-beat dads get away with shit. Just give me this one thing.”

“Okay,” I say softly. “We can talk about back pay, but for now, we should share things fifty-fifty.”

“Not going to happen,” he says, shaking his head. “I pay for all his schooling and his activities.”