Max

“Tiffany, would you bring in the largest bottle of Tylenol you can find?” I rested my forehead on my palm and tried to think of anything else I could do to ease the throbbing pain of the world’s most epic hangover.

Luckily, I hadn’t thrown up, or if I did, I definitely didn’t remember. Which wasn’t saying much because I already couldn’t remember how in the hell I got home from the bar. I made a mental note to get in touch with Zach and find out.

Tiffany opened my door and rested a pill bottle on the corner of the desk. “Is that all you need?”

“Coffee,” I croaked. “And . . . yeah, just coffee. From the deli across the street. It’s stronger than what we have here.”

Her brow furrowed with worry, but she turned on her heel and clicked the door closed behind her.

All morning, between hating myself for developing a taste for alcohol and cursing my friends for encouraging me, I’d been thinking of Addison.

Just before I left for work this morning, I came into the kitchen to find her eating a cupcake, the tiniest bit of frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth. I wanted to walk over and kiss it away, then taste the sugar on her tongue.

Instead, I’d grabbed some coffee and asked, “Do you have any idea why I woke up covered in chocolate frosting?”

She gave me a wary grin. “No, but I do know when I put you to bed, I left one on your nightstand.”

“Drunk eating.” I groaned. “Is there anything worse? Judging by the ketchup on my shirt, I’m guessing it wasn’t the first round of it either.”

“A time-honored tradition,” she said with a nod and shot me a wink.

“Tell me I didn’t do anything stupid,” I demanded, dread already building in my gut.

“Not that I know of. I didn’t talk to your friends when they dropped you off, but you did say . . .” The color in her cheeks rose and she said, “You asked me for a very particular kind of birthday gift.”

“Ah,” I said carefully. “I see.” I’d told her I wanted her a few days before, so there was no point in walking it back now. “Well, I can’t say that I regret that. Especially when I still don’t know your answer. Did you tell me last night?” Had I been so drunk that I wouldn’t remember something so fucking imperative? The thought was chilling. “Jesus, did you decide what you want to do and I missed it?”

She swallowed another bite of her cupcake and shook her head. “No, but—”

“You know what? Let’s talk about it tonight.”

I felt like a prisoner who had been given a stay of execution. After her seeing me behave like a stumbling fool, I needed at least one more chance to redeem myself before she made her decision. She nodded, and I scooped up my briefcase and headed for the door before she changed her mind. I was in such a rush to get out before she changed her mind that I brought the ceramic coffee cup to my truck with me.

It didn’t matter, though.

I needed to focus on tonight. I had to do something so perfect and Addison-inspired that she couldn’t possibly turn down my proposal. All I had to do was figure out what that thing would be.

Normally, if I needed something like this, I’d ask Tiffany to handle it—she picked out the best flowers and fruit baskets, and I obviously had no idea what I was doing. But when it came to Addison? Well, I knew that wasn’t an option. If I wanted to win her over, I was going to have to do it myself. She deserved no less.

As the day went on, I put together the pieces. I called in an order to the grocery store and to the florist. I picked out a special bottle of wine. I was going to do this right, and by the time I got home, I was filled with single-minded determination.

While Addison changed Dylan, I rushed around the living room, picking up the toys and even vacuuming before she got the chance. When she came back down, I told her to relax in the living room while I handled the kitchen. She protested, but eventually she did as I asked.

I cleaned the stove, the counters, and the tiles, and by the time I got to cooking, I cleaned as I went along too.

“What are you up to in there?” Addison asked as she tried to walk toward the stove, but I waved her off.

“Nope, dinner is a surprise. You spend time with Dylan.”

While I cooked, I could hear her in the other room, playing with my daughter, reading her books and showing her how to stack blocks, and my stomach clenched.

This time two weeks ago, I would have been cracking open a beer and ordering takeout for the thousandth time. Or maybe I would have been bringing home some random woman to warm my bed for the night, the only sort of company I’d kept until now . . . now that Dylan was here.

And if I was being honest with myself, now that Addison was here.

Looking back, I felt sort of bad for my old self—the lonely, restless existence that came from flitting from one woman to another. Having nothing to come home for.

That was the way it had been with Jenn too. I’d thought back then that she was my girlfriend, but even that label had me skirting away just as fast as I could. And had she actually been a girlfriend? Not really. Thinking on it now, I realized I hardly knew anything about her. She would just come over, share a quick fuck, and then stare at her phone while we ate takeout. She never asked about my dreams, and I never asked about hers. We were together, but also apart. Strange that even then I knew it wasn’t something I wanted for life.

That wasn’t companionship or a relationship at all. It was just mutual loneliness.

Still, it was the most long-term relationship I’d ever had. Besides Jenn, it was only one-night stands and flings I could barely recall now. As much as I might have enjoyed a woman’s company, none of them had ever had the kind of energy and warmth Addison brought into the house.

She was just so damn easy to talk to—like I could share my darkest secrets with her and she would understand everything I said. She shared about herself too. She’d told me about her stupid ex and her mother, and let me into her world.

Only a few nights ago, we’d been sitting together on the sofa, watching something on TV, and she’d tilted her head to the side. “It must have been really hard to find out you’d be a single parent the way you did.”

I’d nodded. “I guess it was, yeah.”

“Most people have nine months to prepare, but you didn’t even have that. And looking at you and Dylan? You’d never know it.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

She pointed at the TV. “I was just thinking about the nanny on this show. She’s pretty much the only parent. That’s the way it was for my nanny, but it’s really not like that for me. You’re a good father.”

My heart stuttered. “Thanks. I didn’t know you had a nanny.”

She nodded, still staring at the TV. “She actually sort of looked like this lady.”

The woman on the screen was chubby and kind-looking, with salt-and-pepper hair and an easy smile.

“My mom made her wear a stupid uniform too.” She shook her head. “She was a single parent, like you. But she did her best.”

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Science waits for no man. Without a father around, my mom couldn’t really follow her dreams and spend all her energy on raising me. It wasn’t her fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” I’d asked.

She’d glanced at me, a shadow of sadness tinged with regret playing over her face. “Every parent is different. I just want you to know that you’re a good one.”

A trill of laughter sounded from the next room, interrupting my memory, and I smiled to myself, picturing the two girls together. If I didn’t know better, they might have been mother and daughter. So easy and comfortable together, almost instantly.

“All right, dinner is ready.” I called them in, then swept my hand out toward the buffet I’d created.

“Whoa.” Addison smiled as she walked into the room with Dylan on her hip. “What’s all this?”

“Breakfast for dinner. You’ve made pancakes two times in the past week, so I thought—”

Her grin widened. “I guess my secret is out. They’re the only way to eat cake for breakfast while maintaining your dignity, so they’re pretty much my favorite food.”

“I guess so.” I cut up a pancake for the baby and sat her in her high chair while Addison loaded her pancakes with the fresh berries and homemade whipped cream I’d made.

“I had no idea you could cook,” she said.

“I got a little help from Pinterest,” I admitted, and she laughed.

“I told you it’s addictive.”

I joined her at the table with a plate, and we talked about our day.

“How’s the hangover? Gone or still nursing it?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

I grinned and tucked into my own stack. “Yeah, it was a rough morning, but by lunch I was fine.”

“You really didn’t have to cook and clean like all this,” Addison said, but I shook my head.

“I wanted to. You work hard, and I want you to know how appreciative I am.”

Her eyes went suspiciously soft, and she looked away.

For the next little while, the three of us ate and chatted, Dylan piping up with some happy squeals as I mashed up a strawberry for her. Addison and I cleaned off the table and sat back down with cups of decaf coffee while the baby played on the floor with a set of pots and pans. It was the most domestic evening of my life, and I was happier than a pig in shit. Who knew?

Now if we could just end this night on the perfect note . . .

“Dylan’s head is bobbing already, so if you want to put her to bed and then unwind while I do these dishes, that would be good.”

“You can’t be serious. You—”

I held up a hand. “Not negotiating.”

She looked down at the sink full of dishes and then at Dylan. “I’ll pay you back for this.”

“You will not,” I countered.

She picked up the baby and carried her from the room, allowing me to watch her hips as they swayed. Something buzzed in my pocket and I flinched in surprise. That would teach me for letting her body hypnotize me so completely.

I glanced down at the screen and saw a number I didn’t recognize.

“Probably some telemarketer,” I grumbled, but I answered just in case. “Hello?”

“Hey,” a familiar female voice said on the other end of the line, and I nearly dropped my phone.

“Jesus, Jenn? Where the hell are you?” Fury, panic, and frustration all filtered through my mind, but I couldn’t decide which one to pick.

“I’m around. I just wanted to see how you and Dylan are doing.”

“And you didn’t think to do that the day after you dropped her in my lap? Or maybe any of the days since?” I snapped.

Silence crackled over the line before she blew out an annoyed sigh. “Max, don’t—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get to dump her off like a sack of flour and then call a week later and ask anything about my daughter.”

“Our daughter,” she said quietly, correcting me.

How was she so calm? It was like she was completely without feeling, reciting a speech she’d written long before this call.

“You brought her here and left. That makes her my daughter now, Jenn.”

There was a pause on the line, then she continued as if I’d never spoken. “Did you find the medicine I left in her diaper bag? She had some bad diaper rash and—”

“I’ve been taking care of her. The diaper rash is gone,” I snapped.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Relief. Like all her problems were solved. “That’s good to hear. Is she eating well? Asking for me?” she asked hopefully.

Asking for her? Like Jenn needed the validation of Dylan crying for her mother for her own selfish reasons. The thought sent a bolt of hot fury through me, and I gritted my teeth. “I’m hanging up.”

“I wish you wouldn’t. I don’t want to intrude; I just want to know how you’re all doing. Are you managing?”

I clicked the phone off and then stared at it, dumbfounded.

Where did she get off? I should have been the one asking questions. Why did you leave? Why did you keep her a secret?

And the one that made my heart squeeze with dread.

Are you going to come and take her back from me?

Instead, I had to carry on with my life wondering when the ax would drop, if it ever would. The thought made me sick. All I could do was hope that the fact that Jenn had stayed away this long meant she was happy with her choice and confident in the knowledge that I would do whatever it took to keep Dylan with me.

Upstairs, the pounding of the shower halted, and I focused back on the present. I couldn’t let Jenn take tonight away from me—she’d already taken too much, like the entire first year of my daughter’s life. Tonight had been a dream I didn’t even know I had. Life was too short, and there were too few moments like this to let fear of the unknown steal it away.

For now, my sole focus was Addison.

And I was going to make damn sure she knew it.