Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“No.”
My shoulders slumped. “I need to tell him my name. But Tate would be stupid, right? Since he might mention me to Taylor?”
“We shouldn’t take the chance. Especially since Taylor knows my baby daddy’s name was Tate. Maybe we just give you a nickname for now.”
“Like?”
“I’ll think of something.”
I chuckled. “That should be interesting.”
“I’d better go. It’s late. Nicholas gets me up pretty early in the mornings.”
“Yeah. Of course. You go. If there’s anything I can do before we meet, please let me know.”
“We’ll be good. But thanks.”
Of course they would. Once again, I reminded myself that Blair had done just fine without me all these years. She didn’t need me to swoop in, trying to be some goddamn superhero who didn’t know his ass from his elbow when it came to kids. I needed to earn my place as a helper. That would take time.
Before I went to bed that night, I pulled up the old photos of Blair I had stashed away in a special album for easy access. But this time, I looked at them in a different light. Never before had I realized she was probably already pregnant with my baby in these images. My body buzzed.
I was deep into staring when my phone buzzed.
Blair: I’ve got it.
Tate: Got what?
Blair: The nickname Nicholas can call you.
Tate: What is it?
Blair: Mr. T.
I had to laugh.
Tate: That’s funny.
Blair: Why is that funny?
Tate: Mr. T?
Blair: I don’t get it.
Tate: The guy from The A-Team?
Blair: The what?
I laughed harder.
Tate: The A-Team. It was a show back in the eighties. And shit, I just realized why the fuck you wouldn’t know what that was. I remember my dad watching reruns when I was younger.
Blair: Correct. I have no idea what you’re talking about. LOL
Tate: I thought that’s why you picked it, but that show was way before your time. Mr. T works, though.
I caught myself smiling like a fool. “I pity the fool.”—Mr. T used to say that.
I needed to go to sleep, because I was clearly delirious.
Blair texted me one last time.
Blair: Goodnight, Mr. Teabag.
Now that was the Blair I remembered.
Chapter 27
* * *
BLAIR
“Where are we going, Mommy?”
My son had asked me several times today where we were headed, probably because it was unusual for us to be in the car for so long.
“I told you… We’re gonna go meet Mommy’s friend again, Mr. T.”
Every time I said “Mr. T,” I laughed to myself.
Nicholas nodded. “Okay.”
I smiled as I looked back at my beautiful boy through the rearview mirror. He was such a mild-mannered child, down for almost anything. He never complained. I sometimes wondered how I’d gotten so lucky. It hadn’t been easy being a single mother, but I wouldn’t trade this life with him for anything.
“I heard he has a swing set,” I added.
Nicholas’s eyes lit up. While he loved going to the playground, a swing set was one thing we didn’t have at home. Installing one in our yard was on my long list of things to do.
By the time we finally pulled up to the house Tate had rented, I was very ready to get out of the car. It was a small, light blue, one-level home on a tree-lined residential street. I’d grown up in this general area, but I’d never been to this town before. I felt confident about our anonymity here.
Tate was sitting outside on the front steps, waiting for us. As he stood, I was struck by how tall and strong he seemed. Each time I laid eyes on him, I could hardly believe I’d had the pleasure of being with this man. Today he wore black jeans, black boots, and a beige, hooded sweatshirt. I loved his rugged, fall look. Well, I loved all of his looks.
“How long have you been waiting out here?” I asked as I exited the car.
“A little bit.” He smiled. “I got worried since it’s about a half hour after I thought I should expect you. Was there traffic?”
“No.” I shrugged. “I’m just a slow and careful driver.”
“Well, you have precious cargo. So I understand.” Tate scratched his chin. “I forgot to ask if he’s okay with dogs.”
“He loves them.”
“Good. Khloe’s inside. If you’d told me he couldn’t handle her, I would’ve figured something out.”
I opened the back door, finding Nicholas’s eyes groggy. He’d almost fallen asleep before we got here.
Tate joined me and reached out his hand. “Hey, buddy. Do you remember me?”
Nicholas hesitantly took it, but shook his head no. I was pretty sure he was just messing with Tate.
I chuckled. “He’s a little tired from the ride. Makes him cranky and shy.”
“That’s okay. We’ll wake you up.” Tate winked. “I have snacks.”
“Oh good. I’m hungry,” I teased.
Tate grinned as our eyes locked. Then he gave me a once-over. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant that to be obvious. “Don’t worry. I’ll feed you, too,” he said, a hint of seductiveness in his tone.