TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,6

I mouth, earning myself a wink.

“So, I, uh… Shit! This is not how I planned this at all.” A ball of nerves coils tightly in the pit of my stomach as I stare into my boyfriend’s worried eyes.

“Planned what?” He takes a protective step back, analyzing the scene before him.

“Ryder, Liam and I… Well, the other night he came over for Ellie’s birthday.” I gulp, wringing my hands nervously. “Remember, you had to work?”

My soon to be former boyfriend’s narrowed eyes volley between Liam and myself. “Yeah?”

“Well, we uh…We sort of got a little drunk and went to Vegas.” I hold my left hand up and watch his face drop at the sight of the ring that wasn’t there when he arrived not even half an hour ago. I feel like such a dog. Ryder and I might have only been dating a few months, but he’s been so good to me and to my daughter.

“You have got to be fucking shitting me.”

“Woah!” Liam roars, puffing out his chest. “Watch the way you talk to my wife. That there is a fucking lady. I don’t care if she can curse your ass lower than a sailor or has a tendency to chunk a chancla at your head in a fit of anger. You’ll treat my woman with respect.”

I mean, seriously, throw a slipper at a man one time…“Liam! That’s enough!”

I reach for Ryder, but he shrugs me away, and to my horror it doesn’t sting nearly as much as it should. I’m more ashamed than anything. “I’m gonna go,” he says, taking long steps back toward his car.

“I’m so sorry, Ryder,” I call out to him, my voice cracking in the growing space between us.

He locks eyes with mine before shaking his head in disbelief. His mouth opens to say something, but he seems to think better of it, clamping it shut and spinning on his heels. The next thing I know his tires are squealing down the driveway.

I whip around, embarrassed and infuriated. “Sure you don’t want to piss on me for good measure? You know, just in case he didn’t fully grasp where my ownership lies?”

Liam’s eyes widen. “I didn’t think you were the type, but I mean if that’s what you’re into now… sure.”

Liam

What’s yours is mine

“Where’s mom?” Ellie’s soft voice inquires when she walks in after school, just as I finish tightening the last leg of my desk. I flip it over, positioning it across from Nya’s desk in her bright, airy office. My daughter speaks my next thought before I’ve even answered her first question.

“She’s gonna be pissed…” Worried blue eyes scan her mother’s sanctuary.

With a dismissive wave, I answer her question. “Your mother went shopping with Hannah. Said she wasn’t going to be a willing participant in the ruination of her life.” I chuckle at the memory of her little fit.

The smile on Ellie’s face makes my chest swell with pride.

“She’ll just have to get over it. We both work from home. There’s only one office.” I shrug, trying to make light of what I know will be a total shitstorm, but I really do need space to work.

Since the dissolution of our marriage, I’ve taken on the role of silent partner at the club, handling the finances and paperwork while Chance takes care of the rest of it. I knew I had to make some major changes if I was ever going to win Nya back. Unfortunately, it was too little too late.

My daughter’s brow furrows with concern. “You think maybe making her mad isn’t the right approach?”

“Ellie…” I lead my daughter by the arm to the window seat. “How can I win her back if I’m not constantly in her face? Huh?” I kneel before her and place my hands on her tiny shoulders. “Daddy has a plan. Trust me. She won’t be able to resist my charm.”

“I don’t know…” the skeptical brunette drawls, glancing around the room. She’s obviously deep in thought. “Your desk sticks out like a sore thumb. The mahogany doesn’t blend with the creams and teals. Mom is all about cohesion.” Only the daughter of an OCD interior decorator would know words like cohesion and the exact material of my desk at her age. “She won’t like it,” she decides finally.

“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?”

A grin that splits her entire face has my heart sinking in my chest. “I’m glad you asked,” she says, moving to the corner closet and retrieving a can of