Pumpkin chuckled. He started to the table, pulling her along after him. And not just because he needed to get off his legs. He’d left the wheelchair in the SUV and had only brought his cane inside. It was currently hooked over the back of his chair. When he’d seen a woman in distress, he’d acted without thinking, moving much too fast for his sore body.
Fucking hell, he was going to need to take a bath tonight and maybe see Paige in the morning for an acupuncture treatment and massage.Notthe happy ending kind. Demo would murder him, and Pumpkin had no intention of dying again.
Certainly not when he’d finally foundhiswoman. Because she washis. He didn’t know how yet or when, but this woman who was following him so obediently with her purple hair and caramel eyes washis. He felt it in his soul.
He just had to convinceherof that. And maybe, find out her name.
What was shedoing?Dosia just wanted to go home. She couldn’t think of a worse way to make her evening even more awkward than to have dinner with Vodka, his infant son, and the nanny he was most likely sleeping with. She recalled seeing them in town a few days ago. The woman had had her arm through his as he pushed the stroller and her head had been on his shoulder. They weredefinitelysleeping together.
But why did her big, fat mouth have to haveaskedhim that question? Really? It was none of her business. She wanted no part of himor his life. Likely, the nanny wasn’t the only one he was sleeping with.
Not that she could really blame the women. He was fucking hot. What she remembered of him from six years ago, he’d been good looking. But that beard? The way he was filled out now? Her eyes stared at his broad back as the leather of his cut stretched over his shoulders, and damn her, if her ovaries didn’t just quake at his nearness.
Dosia had no idea why she was following him to his table. It wasn’t like he was pulling or dragging her behind himself. No, he was walking andshewas following. Like her feet had a mind of their own.
Vodka brought her right up to the table. “This is Frankie, my nanny, and my son, Seth Jr, though we call him SJ.”
SJ? Dosia’s stomach sank, and she was starting to get a really bad feeling about tonight and what Calliope hadreallyseen. What had she said tonight, just before leaving Dosia to her fate? Something about the man who buys her dinner…?
Her eyes flew to Vodka’s profile as he tickled his son’s tummy, making the little boy laugh. Fuck, there went her ovaries again.No, no, no! Bad, ovaries!Dosia scolded herself. Under no circumstances could she allow this man to buy her dinner.
Wait, there was an easy way to stop that. She was going to call an Uber before to take her back to Mount Grove. She could do it now.
Dosia went to pull her hand back from Vodka’s grip when the nanny, Frankie, stood. Though she seemed shy, she had a pleasant smile on her face as she held her hand out to Dosia. “Since Mr. Rude didn’t finish the introductions,” she half scolded. “It’s nice to meet you…?”
It took Dosia a second to realize Frankie left the end of that sentence hanging because Vodka hadn’t said Dosia’s name. He hadn’t introduced her. Did that mean he’d forgotten? Didn’t remember? This was good. Really good. All she had to do was slip away, call an Uber, and…what? Live in hiding for the rest of her life in Mount Grove?
Crap. She was being a pessimist again. But she had good reason! This man could not figure out he hadtwochildren. She couldn’t risk J—Dosia cursed Calliope with warts. Fucking hell,she’dinsisted on calling Juniper ‘JJ’. The rest of the family had caught on quickly. Dosia hadn’t minded, and she’d planned on letting JJ choose when she was older, like once she entered middle school, if she wanted to be JJ or Juniper.
Realizing she was letting the woman’s hand just hang there, Dosia pulled her right hand from Vodka’s grip to shake it. At least she had an excuse to break contact with him without being rude.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Dosia said, purposefully not giving her name. “Look, I don’t want to interrupt your evening. I don’t know why Vodka insisted I join you guys.”
“Vodka?” Frankie asked just as there was a bigcrashtowards the front of the restaurant.
Everyone, including Vodka and Dosia, turned to see what had happened. Several babies and kids in the place made startled sounds, but Dosia saw SJ look over with keen interest, much like his father. It was eerie how much Vodka’s baby boy looked like JJ when she’d been that age. It was very evident now where JJ had gotten her darker tones from.
Bartleythe Banker was back. Part of his face was red and his left eye looked like it was on its way to being swollen shut from when he’d fallen into the rounded ear of the chair.
His face was pissed and his fists were clenched. Completely ignoring the waitress he’d bumped into on his way back inside, causing her to drop her full tray of food and dishes, Bartleystormed over to them like a determined child, so sure he was going to get his way.
Vodka stepped forward, making his body a physical barrier between Bartleyand Dosia, Frankie, and SJ.
Dosia’s breath caught, and it had nothing to do with her shock or unease at seeing Bartleyagain. It was the scent of cool leather mixed with something minty and the immediate take-charge attitude of the man directly in front of her.
Dosia considered herself a strong and independent woman. She’d raised her daughter on her own, lived without the financial, physical,and emotional assistance of a partner. She wasnothelpless. But there was something…reassuring, almost relaxing, about nothavingto take care of a problem.
Not to mention arousing. Dosia was suddenly very grateful she was wearing a padded bra, or her hard nipples might have each poked a hole through her dress. She cursed Aphrodite and any other gods who were listening, because she wasnotaroused by this man. No, nada, never. She could excuse six years ago and the instant attraction she’d felt towards him then because she’d been drunk.
But now? Sure, she’d had a glass of wine on an empty stomach, but she was nowhereneardrunk. Yet her panties went from damp at his proximity to soaked at his protectiveness. Fuck, fuck,fuck!She had to get out of here. She had to get away from him.
Dosia made to step around Vodka and Bartley, who was stopping short at the sight of Vodka in all his protective glory, when she felt a small hand around her wrist. Pausing, she looked down to see Frankie had grabbed her.
The woman couldn’t be that much younger than Dosia and Calliope. Maybe early twenties? It was hard to tell with her shy demeanor. Except now, she didn’t look shy. She looked weary. “Let Pumpkin handle this,” she told Dosia, almost like a warning.
“Pumpkin?” Dosia questioned. She looked between Frankie and the man she hadthoughtwas named Vodka. His broad shoulders blocked Bartleyfrom her view, but she could hear him.
“…taking Dosia home!”
