Chapter 6 Kelly Kaplan

Vodka Shots in the Pantry

Three Weeks Until Christmas

I’m still in my bathrobe when I carry Mia out to Austin.

“Dada!” she squeals when she sees him, and she reaches out of my arms for him.

She’s a total daddy’s girl. She loves him, and she loves spending time with him. Her first word wasn’t mama even though I’m with her essentially twenty-four-seven.

It was dada . Dada gets all the glory while mama does all the hard work.

It warms my heart when I see them together, even though I’m trying to keep Austin at a distance.

But it’s hard when I look into the blue eyes of my sweet baby and see the exact shade of Austin’s. His dark hair is trimmed short, but he told me once that he had dark curls when he was little that looked exactly like Mia’s.

My chest twinges a little as I hand her over—just like it always does. To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s a twinge or an errant butterfly, but I do what I always do, and I push it away.

God, though. The way he looks when he’s holding her, and the way he looks down at her…sometimes it’s enough to make me feel ready to give it another try.

I was smitten with him from the very beginning, and before he did all the stupid things he thought would get him ahead, we actually had a lot of fun together.

I think because that’s all it was. We were having fun. Neither of us had any expectations, so there was no pressure, yet I found myself falling for him.

And then he went and released that stupid video that hurt both Ava and Grayson, and I don’t care that it was nearly a year and a half ago at this point. You don’t betray your teammates that way—or the best friend of your girlfriend. Situationship. Um…the mother of your child.

Ava has moved on, obviously. It didn’t have the lasting effects he might’ve been hoping for since they’re happily married now and running an entire bakery together.

But I haven’t gotten over it. I tried to. Really. I even continued seeing him after Ava told me the reason he initially had an interest in me was to get closer to Grayson so he could find ways to hurt him.

But ultimately, I couldn’t get past any of it. He hurts other people for fun, and he demolished my trust in him. I was heartbroken after my last relationship ended with broken trust, and I just can’t go down that road again, no matter how attracted I am to him.

No matter how much my ovaries explode when I see him holding our baby.

No matter how much I want him to put another baby in me.

Whoa.

Did that errant thought really just pop into my head a mere hour before a date is coming to pick me up?

I liked being pregnant, and I definitely want more kids someday.

Would pregnancy have been a better experience if I wasn’t on shaky ground with the father? Absolutely.

And I wish I could get off that shaky ground.

I clear my throat as I force those thoughts from my head. “I’m just going to go finish getting dressed.”

I head into the bedroom and choose a light pink dress that makes my brown eyes seem lighter, like they’re glowing, and sets off my dark hair. I pair it with matching shoes—which happen to be three-inch heels, something I’m not exactly used to walking in—and I apply my makeup and curl my hair.

I’m ready to go with about fifteen minutes to spare. This is normally when I’d take a shot of vodka while I wait for my date to pick me up to try to squash those first date nerves, but I can’t exactly do that with Austin out there watching my every move.

I switch to my date night purse and head out to the family room, and I see Austin playing Mia’s favorite game—toss the ball anywhere but at me.

I smile as I look down at them, and Austin glances up at me before he looks back at the ball he just rolled back to Mia.

And then he does a double take.

His eyes slowly drift from my legs up to my hips, up to my chest, and up to my face. He lets out a low whistle. “Wow.”

Mia chooses that exact moment to pick up the ball and toss it, and for once, she hits her target, smacking Austin right in the forehead with the soft, squishy, ball.

He snaps to attention, laughing as he shifts his glance down to his daughter, and she lets out the sweetest giggle.

“You got me!” he says merrily to her, and I swear, he is a different person when he’s with Mia. He’s the kind of person I could see myself ending up with, if I’m being honest. He’s sweet and kind and fun.

Why the hell am I going on a date with another guy when this guy seems almost perfect for me?

Oh, right. Because he’s decidedly not perfect, and I can’t be another person he can step on to get to wherever it is he’s going.

Maybe that’s why I’m holding onto this anger so tightly. It’s not just the trust issues I have, but it’s the fact that it feels very much like he used me to get to my friends, and now he’s stuck with me since he knocked me up.

I want to feel chosen because of who I am, not because of who my friends are. I want to feel seen and heard and loved. Is that really so much to ask?

And aside from that, I want to feel valued and cherished, and I want someone who isn’t going to abandon me the way my ex did. I can’t afford to be abandoned at this point because it isn’t just me anymore. I have a little one to think about, too, and it’s a new armor I wear as I head out on my first date with someone other than Austin since I gave birth.

It feels…weird.

It’s strange to be going on a blind date, but Max is picking me up here soon, and I’m not as excited as I wish I was. I sort of feel like I’m going to throw up, to be honest, and I think vodka would really help with that.

I sneak over to my small walk-in pantry since Austin is occupied with Mia, and I grab the bottle of Tito’s. I unscrew the cap and help myself to a swig.

“Can I have some?” a deep voice behind me asks, and I spin around guiltily as I practically choke on the vodka.

He chuckles when he sees my wide eyes, and I hand the bottle over.

He takes the cap from my other hand and screws it back on without taking a sip. “I was just kidding since I’m with Mia tonight. I’m more of a whiskey drinker, anyway.” He sets the bottle on the shelf. “Why are you sneaking shots of vodka in the pantry?”

He doesn’t move, and the pantry is pretty small for one person. There isn’t much space between us, and I can smell his aftershave. It’s the same woodsy scent that drew me in the first time we met, and somehow it makes me feel at home.

So much so that I’ve taken to stockpiling the mahogany-teakwood-scented candles from Bath and Body Works because they remind me of him.

I tell myself it’s for Mia, so she can smell her daddy even when he’s not here. But the truth is that it’s for me, too.

“I’m nervous,” I admit.

“About your date? You shouldn’t be. Whoever this douche is…he’s lucky you’re giving him the time of day.”

Douche ? We don’t know if he’s a douche or not yet, but the doorbell rings, so I guess that means we’re about to find out.

I clear my throat. “Excuse me,” I say, nodding toward the doorway of the pantry so he’ll let me out.

He blocks my path another few seconds. “Do I have to?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I glance up, and our eyes lock. I can’t make myself nod or say yes or even form a coherent thought when he’s looking at me like that, so we just face off until he finally presses his lips together and moves out of the way.

But damn . That heat between us?

Hot. As. Hell.