Dick (Bad Boys #1) Page 4

  The valet gives me a ticket, and the kids and I head up in the elevator. I remind myself to keep this G-rated since the kids are here. A part of me wants to have a little fun taunting Eden. I can’t help it. The night of the gala dinner, she was this feisty sexy vixen. Albeit she did inhale quite a bit of alcohol in a short time and mentioned she wasn’t much of a drinker. Eden in teacher mode is very uptight. She really needs to let lose a little.

  As per the doorman’s direction, the kids and I head up to the penthouse. They both seem a little tired and hungry from school, leaving me a little anxious about how this will play out. The elevator opens directly into the apartment. Grant comes running at Jaden.

  “You want to play Legos?” he asks with an animated tone. Jaden nods and runs after him. Macy looks up to me with droopy eyes, like she’s asking, “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Hi.” Eden’s voice pulls my attention away from Macy.

  I look up and see Eden’s wearing a basic white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Her hair is now loose and cascades down her shoulders and back. Shit, she’s beautiful. My stomach dips a bit, wondering how awkward this is going to be, since I blatantly told her I didn’t remember her this morning, and I feel like it’s clear to her that I do. What’s even more disturbing right now is that my stomach is dipping, and I’m not on a roller coaster.

  “Hi,” I answer a little breathless. Shit, this isn’t sitting well with me. This woman really affects me.

  “Come in.” She waves us in with a friendly smile.

  “Daddy.” Macy pulls on my leg.

  “Come here, pumpkin.” I lift her up in my arms. She’s only three and this is a new place with new people. She’s assessing her surroundings.

  “I hadn’t realized the boys had become such close friends,” Eden says with a smile, as I follow behind her toward the kitchen. My eyes drop to her fine ass. I’m ready to lick my lips when I realize I’m still in daddy mode. What’s gotten into me?

  “Me neither. I’m glad, though. It sometimes bothers me he doesn’t have normalcy in his life,” I begin to explain. She squints her eyes at me and tilts her head. Is she checking me out? Or is she judging my parenting skills? The fact that she’s his teacher is making me nervous.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. Being married to Blythe means we get a lot of public attention. I miss normal.” Her lower lip juts out. It’s plump and full … shit, stop it! I admonish myself. I take a seat on a barstool at the counter.

  “I was going to cut some apples until the spaghetti is ready. Is that okay, Macy?” She looks at Macy, who is sucking on a finger.

  Macy nods her head.

  “She’s adorable.” Eden grins.

  “Thanks.” I smile. “I worry about normalcy with my kids too. I spent most of my childhood playing outside on the streets with friends. I can’t let my children do that. The paparazzi seem to have a constant tail on me. I’ve even had the paps tail my housekeeper when she’s taken the kids to the park,” I respond. Eden’s eyes gaze up at mine.

  “What is it?” I ask, wanting to understand this knowing nod she just gave me.

  “Nothing.” She shrugs. “I was surprised to see you pick up and drop off your own kids. I mean, you must be crazy busy with your job. I thought it was admirable. I’m guessing you don’t do that often. You probably drop them with the nanny the minute they walk through the front door like the rest of those parents at the school.” Huh? I’m confused. She sounds as if there’s disdain in her voice. It kind of pisses me off that she thinks she has me pegged.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with irritation. I do not drop off the kids with a nanny. She’s damn judgmental. I don’t like it one bit.

  “Nothing, Mr. Crawford.” She shrugs her shoulders again, and the way she calls me Mr. Crawford causes my anger to diffuse and my cock to harden … Calm down, buddy. This is not the time.

  The conversation dies off. I watch her working in the kitchen and my eyes drop to her fine ass as she chops some herbs for the spaghetti. I’m impressed. Wives in this neighborhood don’t cook for shit, let alone make something from scratch. The air feels tense. I’m not even sure why.

  In an attempt to diffuse the tension, I pay her a compliment, “You actually know how to cook.” I say, walking up to the counter. Her mouth curls.

  “Thank you.” Her response is curt, like she doesn’t want to further the conversation. I don’t understand why. Did I offend this woman somehow? Suddenly I remember Trina—or was it Tina?—this morning. Shit, that probably looked bad.

  “So you like cooking?” I force the conversation.

  “Sure do. I like homemade food, and it gives me something to do after work when Grant is busy playing with his toys,” she explains.

  “How about traveling, museums? I mean there are so many things to do in this city to keep a person busy. Do you enjoy those things too?” I continue to pull teeth because the conversation has drifted off again.

  “My husband works 24/7. I don’t like going to those places alone. Besides, if I do, the media picks up on it and accuses our marriage is falling apart,” she says as she stirs the sauce. It begins to boil, bubble, and pop. A bubble lands on her white T-shirt. She jumps up. “Ouch.”

  Placing Macy down, I walk over to her with a dishtowel from the counter. “Did you burn yourself?” I use the towel to clean the splatter above her chest. Her breath hitches. Shit, what am I doing? She’s Jaden’s teacher, not just some woman.

  “I’m fine.” She flinches while her cheeks slightly flush. Why is she so shy around me? I don’t get it. I’m used to the straightforward shooters who use and take what they want. I guess it doesn’t say much about me, besides the fact that I know how to have a good time, and I have a thick black book of very willing, fuckable women.

  “I’m sorry,” I respond, although I’m not sure why I’m apologizing.

  “Um, no it’s fine.” She pulls her gaze away from mine and stares back at the pot. I feel like I’m missing something.

  Another bout of silence follows.

  “Do you want to try some sauce?” she asks, breaking the silence as she turns away from the stove with a wooden spoon filled with the mouth-watering sauce.

  It’s steaming hot. The spoon grazes her lush mouth as she blows on it. I swivel my head to check on Macy. I’m glad to see she joined the boys playing Legos on the other side of the main room.

  “I’d love too.” I grin.

  I get back up from the stool and walk over to Eden. Hot damn, she spoon-feeds me the sauce. I groan. “That’s seriously amazing.”

  Eden’s cheeks flush and she turns away briskly. “Thanks,” she replies. I sense she has a grin on her face.

  She continues the final preparations for the spaghetti. When she’s all done, she begins to set the table. All this feels normal. I kind of like hanging out here and just chatting. Eden’s easy to talk to. She’s real, not one of these dolled-up wives whom only care about hair and makeup. It’s refreshing.

  “Okay, kids! Spaghetti’s ready,” she calls out, and all three kids snap their heads up and look at her hungrily. Grant charges for the kitchen first, followed by Jaden and Macy. They immediately dig in. I’m surprised Macy is eating. She’s very picky.

  “Would you like some, Mr. Crawford?” she asks, getting ready to place some on a plate. I can hear my name from her sweet lips all day and never tire of it. Even though she should be calling me Dick. This is after school hours.

  I rub my palms together and make my way to the kitchen table. “Definitely.” This earns me a grin. “Please call me Dick. No more Mr. Crawford.” I smile. I really want to tell her to keep that Mr. Crawford stuff for the bedroom since it’s so erotic. I don’t though. This is a play date, for the kids … I remind myself.

  “All right then, Dick.” She begins to laugh. It reminds me of the night I met her at the presidential gala.

  “What is it?” I ask, needing to know this little inside joke.

  “Nothing
.” She raises her brows innocently. There was nothing innocent about that laugh.

  “Eden, come on, you did the same thing the night of the presidential dinner,” I say … then immediately regret it. Busted.

  She squints her eyes at me. “I thought you told me at school this morning that you didn’t know me. Interesting. You suddenly know my first name and remember me from the presidential gala.”

  “I was trying to be cool.” I shrug and place a bite of pasta in my mouth, savoring the aromatic flavors of the herbs. Since I’m busted, I need to play it cool … like I’m not fazed at all.

  Her mouth presses into a thin line. “Were you putting on a nice cocky show for your friend Tina?” she asks, completely throwing me off. Shit, this woman is a spitfire.

  “Eden, please.” My eyes widen. I urge her with unspoken words to chill the fuck out. “Not in front of the children,” I whisper, gritting my teeth. Damn woman.

  “Daddy, who’s Tina?” Jaden suddenly asks, and I place my fork down, unable to eat. My actions have come back to bite me in the ass big time.

  “She’s no one,” I reply to Jaden as my eyes shoot daggers at Eden. At least she looks apologetic. “And I did not have a play date with her.” I force a bite of spaghetti into my mouth.

  Eden pulls her gaze back to her plate and slurps up a long noodle. I swear she’s doing it to taunt me. I can’t help but picture her on all fours sucking on my cock. I focus on eating my spaghetti, reminding myself G-rated play date.

  The elevator door opens, and Blythe walks into the main entrance of the penthouse. It’s an open concept, so although it’s a distance away, I can see the confusion on his face. Grant gets up from the table and runs to his father, wrapping his arms around his leg. My kids do the same thing to me—only Blythe doesn’t pick his son up or hug him; he only gives him a mere pat on the head. It irritates the fuck out of me. Eden rises from the table, and Blythe makes his way to the kitchen. He’s wearing a crisp gray suit and red tie. His outfit is in direct opposition to my jeans and black button-down shirt with two buttons open at the top. We’re probably worth the same amount of money, but we couldn’t be more different. Eden strides over to him quickly and gives him a kiss on the cheek. I sense nerves radiating from her body. I’m thinking this get together doesn’t look very good for some reason. I take a napkin and wipe at my mouth. Then I rise from my chair.

  “Blythe, always a pleasure.” I extend my hand. He shakes my hand and eyes my children as if they’re spies planted in his organization, destined to reveal company secrets. I want to laugh, or better yet tell him not to look at my children at all.

  “Dixon.” He nods his head. His voice is deep and assertive. As if he’s staking claim. This is my territory. I am king of this jungle. Get the fuck out.

  “Dixon’s son, Jaden, is a friend of Grant’s. They are having a play date,” Eden cuts in. Her voice is high pitched.

  “I see … and your boy needs a chaperone? My wife is a teacher, you know?” His tone is sharp and condescending. I really want to say “No, asshat, I was looking to spend some time with your wife since you clearly don’t.” Of course I keep my thoughts to myself.

  “Jaden wasn’t comfortable coming on his own. Grant was really excited about having him over, and I didn’t want to disappoint him,” Eden explains with the same appeasing tone. I hate that she’s walking on eggshells around King Asshat.

  “I see,” he answers curtly while loosening his tie.

  “Would you like some spaghetti? It’s freshly made,” she offers, hope in her tone. Is she still holding out that this guy might show her an ounce of respect? It doesn’t seem to be in his DNA.

  “You know I don’t eat that stuff,” he snaps. I want to smack him in the head for that comment. Be happy, man. You have a hot wife waiting for you with a home-cooked meal. I’m not misogynistic by any means. I don’t believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen, but if that’s what she enjoys, all the power to her. “I just came home to change. I’m going out for a bite to eat,” he answers. He sounds like he’s talking to an insolent child and it makes my blood boil further.

  “Okay,” she replies, filled with defeat.

  Grant returns to his seat and continues to shovel spaghetti into his mouth. I pull my gaze away from her, figuring she feels humiliated enough. Blythe turns toward the staircase, and Eden returns to her seat, eating spaghetti with her head bowed. As good as her cooking is, I’ve lost my appetite. It’s better that way. I don’t want Ma to be angry when no one is eating the food she cooked. The silence continues as Blythe descends the staircase and heads back into the kitchen.

  “I’m guessing you’ll be leaving soon, Dixon?” he asks matter-of-factly. To me it sounds like, “You will be leaving soon and no, you’re not allowed to fuck my wife before you leave.”

  I glance at Eden and hold my tongue. I don’t want to make things worse for her.

  “Yeah, Blythe. Kids have got to get home. I have my brother waiting,” I reply, hoping to reassure him that I will not be fucking his wife. What she needs is a man that will show her some respect and care. My thoughts throw me for a tailspin, and I am uneasy with the fact that what I feel when I see her is more than just an attraction on a primal level.

  “I thought you were an only child,” he asks, his brows furrowing together. The fun of being in the public eye. People think they know everything about you. Better yet, they feel like they have a right to know. Well, Blythe, you don’t know everything, man.

  I grind my jaw, but I don’t answer. “You have yourself a good night, Blythe.” I nod. Douchebag.

  “Good night, Dixon,” he says, giving me a pointed glare. Then he turns to leave without saying goodbye to his son. After living with an absent father, for far too long, I identify with Grant’s sadness when I look into his eyes. With Blythe gone the air is lighter.

  “Come on, kids, show me what you built with the Legos,” I suggest, trying to ease the tension asshat left behind. Before I complete the word ‘Lego’ the kids dash across the hardwood floor with bright, smiley faces. I swiftly pick up the dirty dishes to take to the sink before heading over to the play area.

  “It’s okay, I got it.” Eden replies. She looks tired now. I’m not sure if it’s from her day or from Blythe being an idiot. Seeing her like this causes anger to fester inside me. Someone as smart and beautiful as her should not be put down by a man. It makes me wonder what she’s been through to seem so defeated at such a young age.

  “Thanks, it was delicious. Especially, if Macy ate. She’s tough to please,” I say, complimenting her and hoping to get a smile.

  “Thanks.” She forces a smile.

  I make my way across the room.

  “Impressive, boys.” I pop a squat on the floor, and Macy falls into my lap.

  “Daddy, I made a princess.” She shows me a green piece of Lego that doesn’t look like much.

  “Wow, sweetheart,” I answer as if she discovered America. I place a kiss on her cheek. I notice Grant rub his tummy repeatedly.

  “You okay there, bud?” I ask. He looks a little pale.

  “I’m not feeling so good,” he murmurs, his lips turning into a pout.

  “Well, okay then …”

  Before I can get another word out, he hurls all over the floor in front of me. It splatters on Macy and all over my jeans and my arms. It’s a sour version of the tomato sauce we ate at dinner. Macy begins crying hysterically, while Jaden loses his footing and slips into the barf. Just the smell alone is causing my own stomach to roil. In my head I am screaming “holy shit!” as my son tries to stand up and flips into the barf again. I give him my hand and it takes everything in me not to gag.

  Eden comes running into the room holding her palms to her cheeks. “Grant, sweetie, Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” She stands frozen.

  Macy begins to kick and scream in my arms. Jaden is crying and shaking his head back and forth. So this may be their first traumatic moment. I hope it won’t leave scars. The voice inside my head
says, Easy there, Dick. You need to take charge.

  “I’m. So. Sorry.” Eden begins to apologize as she lifts Grant in her arms. He places his head on her shoulder. She touches her palm to his forehead. “Sweetie, you’ve got a fever.”

  My kids are melting down and my own heartbeat is erratic. I need out of my clothes, as do my kids.

  “Uh! Do you have a bath I can take the kids to?” I ask, hoping to keep my voice level because Eden seems completely flustered.

  “Yeah, sure, up the stairs. First bedroom on the left is a spare. It’s got a bathroom and clean towels. I’m so sorry, Dixon. I didn’t realize he was sick,” she continues to apologize.

  “It’s okay, they’re kids. Stuff happens.” I smirk, trying to brush off this mess. I scoop Jaden up in my other arm and take the stairs two at a time.

  I enter the bathroom, stripping Macy out of her clothes first because she unfortunately got the brunt of the vomit. Then I move to undress Jaden. With both kids undressed I take off my own smelly shirt and turn the shower knob, placing both kids in together since they’re used to bathing together occasionally. After giving them a good scrub down, I wrap them in towels and place them on the bed, making them promise me that they won’t move or touch anything. The smell of vomit still turns my stomach, so I get into the shower to clean myself before the contents of my own stomach come up. Stepping out of the shower, I shoot Ma a quick text asking her to bring us a change of clothes along with Eden’s address.

  Within seconds she replies: Dixon what have you gotten yourself into?

  She makes me laugh.

  I lift my two munchkins wrapped in puffy, white towels, and we head back down stairs to the kitchen. I don’t mean to be making myself at home, but Eden must still be taking care of Grant.

  “Eden,” I call out.

  “Give me one second, Dick. I’m cleaning Grant,” she calls back.

  My kids are on chairs in the kitchen, staring at me as if I fell from the stars. It’s not like I can leave the apartment half naked and drive home. That would be all over the news in a heartbeat. Who knows what kind of story the reporters would come up with? I cringe at the thought. I can handle the playboy image because it’s true. I don’t need to be deemed a loony.