He nodded. “The Clek Oobr one. Those mommy blogs said itwas the best. And I had one of the experts come and install it. Blogs said it was important to get it in right.”
I gaped at the man opposite me. The hockey star known for his brutality on the ice had been reading mom blogs? I swallowed, trying to find the words I wanted. Instead, a ridiculous question popped out. “You’ve been driving around with a car seat in the back of your fancy SUV?”
I’d seen that vehicle a few times now and hadn’t missed the Bentley emblem on the front. I didn’t even want to know how much it cost. Or how quickly my kid could ruin the back seat with Goldfish crumbs and sticky fingers.
Cope grinned at me full-out. The effect was devastating. “A booster seat doesn’t make it any less badass.”
I arched a brow at him. “Might hurt your game, Hotshot.”
Cope’s eyes hooded, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “Warrior, with my skills, nothing hurts my game.”
Heat flared low in my belly. That confidence that bordered on cockiness shouldn’t have been a turn-on. But it was. I wanted to know what it would be like to let go and have Cope take control. To know what it was like to have that big body pinning me to the mattress or taking me from behind. Powering into me and—I slammed my eyes shut.
I couldn’t think about that. Because it wasn’t going to happen. And that meant Cope was free to find someone else to share those moments with.
The thought had a sick feeling sliding through me, way worse than when I’d smelled the stale air in that awful apartment. But I’d just have to deal with the disappointment. It was a feeling I was familiar with by now.
12
SUTTON
I staredat the man hunched over the water heater in one of the back storage rooms. This one was filled to the brim with cleaning supplies. Various mops, rags, bottles, and buckets. Between that, the massive water heater, and the plumber’s size, the space felt stifling.
I should’ve held on to that heat, pulled it into my bones to carry it with me for the freezing shower I’d likely be faced with when I finished my day. Just like I had for the past five days. The only saving grace was that Luca could take his showers after camp at the ice rink.
Five days.
The accusation hung in the air, proving both the fact that my landlord was a dick of epic proportions and that I was a total failure. It had taken me days to force Rick into getting a plumber out here. And I still hadn’t found an apartment for Luca and me.
Pressure built behind my eyes. Everything was either in an unsafe area or building, or far too small. Right now, my best option was a one-room guesthouse with a kitchenette. I might not be able to cook a full meal, but at least Luca andI would be safe.
As if the thought had conjured it, a text flashed on my phone.
Unknown Number
Come on, Blue Eyes. Help me out this once. I’d hate to have to go to the courts about custody of Luca.
Anger washed away the overwhelm in a flash. That was all Luca was to Roman—a pawn to be used in some disgusting game. He didn’t see my boy for what he was: kind, hilarious, and the best thing that had ever happened to either of us.
My stomach churned as I stared at the message. It didn’t matter that Roman would never get custody, he could still put Luca and me through hell trying. And given everything going on right now, I didn’t exactly have the funds for a top-notch lawyer.
I tapped on the screen and quickly blocked the number. I was done changing mine, I’d run out of excuses for why I was doing it, and Roman always seemed to find them anyway.
Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that he had no idea where we were. And even if he did, he was too caught up in the throes of his addiction to make his way across the country or file any paperwork for custody.
“Ms. Holland, when did the heat go out?” the plumber asked, cutting into my mental spiral.
I tried to shake myself out of it the best I could. “Call me Sutton, Bernie. And it was sometime on Monday. I noticed it as we were cleaning up for the day.” It also meant we were forced to do dishes by hand, making sure to use bleach to sanitize. But more importantly, every time my patrons washed their hands, it was with ice-cold water.
He frowned at the large machine. “This should’ve been replaced years ago. You’re gonna need a new one.”
My head dropped, the pressure behind my eyes returning. This was Rick’s responsibility, not mine. But what were the chances of me getting him to pay for one quickly? “How much do they usually cost?”
Bernie scrubbed a hand over his red beard. “Anywhere from a thousand to two.”
My eyes fell closed. I told myself to keep breathing. Everythingwould be okay if I just kept up with the ins and outs. “Let me call Rick.”
Bernie made a humming noise in the back of his throat, and I knew he thought I was screwed. I didn’t disagree. So, I simply moved out into the hallway, noticing the strains of one of my favorite country artists coming over the speakers in the main café. I pulled out my phone and hit Rick’s contact number.
