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CHAPTER ONE
Ari
If being the single mother of six-month-old twins had taught me nothing else, I’d learned that life wasn’t what you made it—it was what spit up on you.
“No, Riley, please not again! How much can such a tiny little body squeeze out?”
My fussy little princess answered the rhetorical question with a deafening squall in my ear as I scooped her from the car seat that was safely secured in the grocery cart marked Saver’s Supercenter. Saver’s motto, stenciled on every free wall of the sprawling mega-warehouse, was The Most Convenient Way to Shop.
Unless, of course, you were shopping with babies.
Suspending everything my mother taught me about raising kids—If you pick them up too much, you’ll spoil them, dear—I wiped the pool of unsettled milk from Riley’s rosy lips with her bib and perched her over my bare shoulder. In exchange for my good motherly deed, my precious daughter promptly chucked up another round of milk onto my bare shoulder, soiling the last clean shirt I had until laundry day without a tinge of remorse.
I should’ve worn sleeves.
“Oh, little girl, what has Mommy ever done to you, huh? What has Mommy done to make you mad?” The baby voice I spoke in slowly trickled out as thick as the mound of spoiled gook baby girl gifted me. At least it made her stop crying long enough to be amused by the goofy face I made to distract her from whatever had her so upset in the first place. Riley was laughing, but I knew that behind that toothless grin there was a storm brewing.
It was just a matter of minutes until I found out which end of the diaper I was about to be forced to battle.
Riley was my payback child, if you will. An overactive, unpredictable emotional trigger, ready to love on you with those precious brown eyes of hers one minute or explode in the blink of the lashes I hadn’t had time to glue on in ages. Just like her twenty-seven-year-old mama, she teetered between staying mum or demanding the world in a single cry.
The good news? Riley loved my exaggerated, funny faces. What wasn’t so great?
This child was having no parts of me today.
Today wasn’t from hell, but I could’ve sworn I’d seen one of the devil’s distant relatives doing a cleanup on aisle three in the store. He looked just like my children’s father, but I was the one with daddy issues. The resemblance between the store manager and my ex, Jonas, was uncanny; hence what most likely set my baby off. Here I was, clinging onto the last clean pieces of laundry I owned, and little chickadee was berating me like I was the reason her father upped and moved to Sin City with his new wife—and the son they had two months before I gave birth to the twins.
By the way, River, Riley’s big brother by a couple of minutes, was content through the madness. I supposed pooping all over me before we left the house had drained him.
Literally.
I was tired, stank, and the customers in the store were staring at me.
All before 10:00 a.m.
Throw the entire day away.
I tried to get in a good whoosah, but my baby wasn’t having it. A warm breeze traipsed across my arm, which was tucked firmly beneath her butt to secure her in place as I hoisted her higher into the air. I recognized that face.
I was in trouble.
“I don’t have time to change you, sweetie. Not right now, please. You love Mommy, don’t you?” I pleaded in the sweetest voice I could muster behind my burgeoning tears. “I just need thirty minutes to stock up on supplies for tomorrow’s taco run, then you can bawl your head off at home, okay? I promise—just please stop crying. Please?”
Riley screamed again.
…and I was two seconds from snatching off my big-girl panties and joining her.
The beautiful silver-haired fox who’d been eyeing the twins showing me who’s boss since I’d hauled the three of us inside the store a half hour ago tossed a sympathetic nod, indicating she intended to keep minding business that paid her instead of throwing me an assist. Not that she had to. But before I got the chance to send her the Bat Signal, she spun on her yellow-and-pink running shoes and sprinted back down the cereal aisle without throwing me a lifeline.
Please, take me with you.
Being a mother is so beautiful, they said. It would be the most rewarding experience I’d ever have in my life, they convinced me.
Being a mom was not a colloquialism, it was rewarding. Incredible, actually. I loved my two-piece more than anything on Earth, but sometimes I wondered why after trying so hard to join the “club,” motherhood didn’t seem to love me back.
See, what “they” didn’t tell you was that motherhood was akin to the ultimate filter that made you think goals under false pretenses. It looked good, until it stunk. Like my sweaty pits. Did I love being a mother? Of course. Bringing my babies in this world through the miracle of IVF was a fight to the death, and there was no way that I’d reverse that decision. However—hear my voice in all caps—it was the involuntary bodily functions, fluids constantly spewing out of both ends, no sleep, cold-food diet (because everything was mushy and frosty by the time the twins let me get some nourishment), and when was the last time I looked like the sexy woman under thirty I’d prided myself on? All of the side effects could kick rocks, along with every person who convinced me I was worthy of this crown.
And “they” started with my mother, who was more interested in treasure hunting around the country with my father in their RV than keeping her butt in Necessity, Texas, to help me raise her only grandchildren.
Where’s the maternity in that?
I wasn’t complaining, just being transparent. My entire life I’d been called spoiled, bratty, and petty—which wasn’t a lie. I owned my part in people’s poor perceptions of me. But between being brave enough to divorce my cheating husband and taking over part two of my sister Paisley’s taco truck franchise, Taco Smooches, I liked to think I’d matured a lot in the last year. Not to mention pushing not one but two five-pound blocks of flesh out of one of the smallest parts of my body. Kind of made you grow up a lot faster than you’d prefer.
Being around others, I slapped on a smile instead of makeup and kept my woes to myself. Nobody liked a complainer. But today? Not going to lie—I needed rescuing. Screw the hard shells, soft tortillas, the avocados for the fresh guacamole, and my sister, Paisley, for thinking my mental capacity had enough room to raise two decent human beings while managing a whole taco truck that cruises neighborhoods instead of waiting on folk to find us. I wasn’t wishing hell on them…but the way life was happening to me instead of me controlling it?
I wouldn’t have been mad if everyone who pushed me to have kids felt a flame or two.
To be fair, Paisley would’ve normally taken the twins off my hands so I could shop in peace or to clock in some auntie hours just to spoil them. But her doctor’s appointment today meant me by myself, making it happen.
Taco Smooches. Paisley could smooch my tired—
“Whaaaa!” Riley was either demanding some attention or one of my boobs. Judging by the way she was tugging at my shirt, I’d bet on the latter. Entitled little princess; more like me than I thought. River—ever the spitting image of his runaway daddy, on the other hand—was gloriously amused. His coal-tinted eyes locked in on my sorrow while he laughed his Pampers off.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” Picturing my disheveled appearance—burgundy butterfly locs haphazardly piled on top of my head, soiled pink tank top, and dingy gray shorts—I felt the tears of frustration lodged in my eyes begging me to let them fall. I was a shoddy wreck who used to make fun of women in this exact situation. They’re just children—those women should be ashamed for not being able to handle them, I’d sniffed in the past as Paisley and I scuttled by the harried mothers in public spaces.
Be careful what your mouth speaks, little sis, Paisley cryptically urged me. Life can happen to anyone.
Now look at me. I’d turned into one of them.
I clutched Riley tighter in my arms, hoping she’d settle down. She was the feistier of the two. Always waiting until I closed my eyes to steal a few quick z’s to test how fast I’d come running when she screamed or to spit up everything she consumed on me, just in the nick of the most inopportune times. At least my lazy River gave me a fighting chance to rest. Riley was my fire and brimstone, had me convinced she was either going to be a singer or a preacher when she grew up. Hopefully a singer, so she could make Mama rich.
I swayed from left to right, holding my baby in my arms, mumbling the words to our favorite song, “Blame It on Cupid” by country-music star Haven Sandersong. I couldn’t bust my way out of a plastic bag with the notes my throat carried, but at least Riley granted me a short-lived smidge of grace before her piercing howl announced to all the other shoppers passing by what an awful mother I was.
Right before she threw up on me again.
“Riley, please. Please…”
There went that thing happening in my chest again. Felt like my heart was teetering on the end of a needle. Every time I thought about my ex-husband, Jonas Reed, living his best remarried life in Vegas with his former producer and replacement wife (LaDashia) and his first child (Benji), who was already nesting while I was incubating, my jilted spirit took another blow.
Benji was such a cutie, and I was doing my best not to hold his parents’ betrayal against him. Was it the nine-month-old’s fault that despite the fact he had yet to learn to walk, he was coerced into being ring bearer at Jonas and LaDashia’s quickie wedding in a chapel on the Vegas strip while I was at home nursing my swollen ankles? Of course not. But the long distance from Nevada to Texas had kept him from knowing or bonding with his siblings, and I hated it. And as for Mr. and Mrs. Reed…
I didn’t use that kind of language.
“Oh, Riley.” I rocked her in my arms to console her. “My sweet baby girl. Don’t cry. I know I mess up sometimes, but Mommy’s got you. I’ll always have you.”
Maybe I was doing too much, but when it came to my children’s tears, my world stopped. Whatever they wanted, I was fiercely determined to make sure they had it. People didn’t understand I wasn’t a helicopter mom—I just wasn’t going to mess up my second chance.
A few years ago, I’d lost my first child before delivery. A baby boy. Royal consumed every part of me, until there was nothing left. I’d planned on being the perfect mom and told everybody so. But then, my baby left me. I guess he decided this world didn’t deserve him. I thought when his heart stopped beating, so had mine. Then the doctors said because of the complications, I should look into other options to have the children I longed so bad for. Time passed and the wound closed, but it took its time to heal.
I’d given up on motherhood, until I was blessed with a double rainbow. What I hadn’t counted on was divorcing their cheating father before they were born. Whoever said raising kids by yourself was easy was a dirty liar. Constant diaper changes, double feedings, no sleep with little to no help was not what I signed up for. Mom was a three-letter word; why did the responsibly of being one weigh a ton?
Riley belted another yelp, and somewhere along the way my normally calm, even-tempered River decided to harmonize with her. And I was fairly certain every shopper within a five-foot radius was dodging us.
“Hey, guys—please, please, stop crying. Mommy will have a special treat for you when you get home, okay?” I pleaded. “Stop…please…stop.”
Standing in the middle of the aisle, swanked by boxes of hard shells and bags of tortillas and swaddled by my chaotic emotions, I made my latest futile attempt to see if time travel really worked. I jammed my eyes closed, praying that when I opened them, I would’ve transported myself all the way back to nineteen years old, to choose a different father for my children.
I counted to five because “the rule” had to factor into more than dropping food on the ground, right? I opened my eyes.
Still in the present.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a cheery male voice greeted me from behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but it seems like you could use a little help.” He raised his voice over Riley’s catcalls.
“Does it look like I need some—”
My rebuttal was punched back down my throat when I whirled around, staring into the most spectacular pair of onyx eyes that held me captive for a brief time some years ago. Once I was able to tear away from them, I scanned the broad shoulders, long, muscular legs peeking from beneath his basketball shorts, and the most brilliant, luminous skin I’d ever seen. A hit of forbidden fruit I’d once let in my garden.
Okay, maybe twice.
God was testing me.
A strong hit of spoiled milk traipsed through my nostrils as I glared at the sweet specimen of testosterone staring back at me. “Talent Malone? What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in years.”
“I’ve been living in New Orleans, working for a company called Z Corp in IT,” Talent hastily brought me up to speed on life since our whirlwind romance. The long brown curls tumbling over his shoulders reeled me back into our brief past as he expounded. “One day the head of the department strolled into my office and announced our jobs were being outsourced. He thanked me for my services, released me from a job I didn’t care for too much anyway, and I packed up. Been back in Necessity a few days.” He strapped on the warm smile that instantly made me regret making him an ex. Not that we were together long enough for either of us to earn that esteemed title, but yeah.
“Sorry to hear that,” I said. “You look…”
Of course, Riley screamed again.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the dimples buried beneath Talent’s short-cut beard as he plucked Riley from my arms, no questions. Immediately Riley’s waterworks shut off, and she flashed her adorable, gummy smile.
“Aren’t you a beauty? Just like your mother,” Talent gushed. Riley wiggled her toes, cooing in agreement. He was entertaining my child yet eyeing me like I was the last loaf of bread ready to break at the Last Supper. I nearly lost it.
For a second—a sedentary moment frozen in time—the way Talent’s eyes quickly searched me with a hint of admiration made me feel beautiful again. From frumpy to serving, in my own mommy way. His eyes said it. I clipped that vision of him like a coupon and tucked it away for later.
“You are Mom, right?” Talent broke into my thoughts.
I pinched the strap of my tank and yanked it away from my heated skin before letting it snap back in place. “Did my keen sense of fashion or the scrumptious aroma of regurgitation tip you off?”
“More like the look of a woman who may not need help but could definitely use a break.”
Oh, my sexy charmer.
Talent nodded at Riley, who was babbling up a storm. “How old is she?”
“Riley here is six months,” I announced as I scooped my son from his seat in the cart. “And her partner in crime over here has her beat by a couple of minutes. This little guy is River.”
Talent reached the free hand that wasn’t actively being drooled on by Riley and brushed it across River’s cheek. “Nice to meet you, River. You may not understand this now, but when you grow up to be all muscles and big enough to beat me up, I want you to remember I’m your mother’s friend, all right?”
My sweet baby caught the joke with a giggle. And for the first time that day, I laughed.
For real.
“I wish I’d known you were back in town, Talent. I would’ve—”
“Threatened to cook for me? No, thanks,” he joked.
My face flushed. “That was only one time, and it wasn’t that bad.”
He grinned at River. “Hey, little man. One day, I’ll tell you how your mommy’s infamous hot dogs sent me to the hospital for three days.”
River sealed their deal with a gurgly chuckle.
I nudged Talent’s shoulder with mine. “I’ll have you know I’m a much better cook since you last saw me. In fact, I manage my sister’s second taco truck now. That’s why I’m here gathering supplies.”
His eyes widened. “A taco truck? You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Hmmm.”
I felt my brows reaching for the ceiling, offended. “What?”
Talent’s eyes darted from Riley, who managed to wrap her tiny fingers around the ends of his hair, tugging for her life, back to me. “I just figured with all that creativity you have, you’d have been somewhere illustrating books or something, not…cooking. That was always my thing.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed. “I actually thought the same thing, but that was before…” I glanced at my kiddos. “Never mind. What happened to you? The last time we spoke, you were off to either open a hibachi grill or an auto-repair shop. IT?”
His expression became unreadable, but I took him at his word when he told me, “My parents wanted something more practical for me. Instead of being an entrepreneur, they pushed me to secure a job to pay the bills and keep me out of their pockets, even though I never ask them for anything.”
“In all fairness, when we met all you wanted to do was cook for the elderly and assemble puzzles.”
Talent’s amusement double-barreled through the aisle as he roared in a loud chortle. “If I remember correctly, you were volunteering at the Hopkins Senior Center too. If it hadn’t been for our mutual love of puzzles and helping the seniors put them together on weekends, we may never have met.”
His sudden reappearance and the starry-eyed glean in his eyes, despite the mess I was, threw me off a bit. When I looked at him, there was an invisible caption bubble floating over his head; had there been words inside, they would’ve said: I can’t believe how much she’s changed.
Most people liked me better as a mother.
My toxic trait? Before motherhood, the only thing I’d been committed to, other than myself, was men.
Short.
Tall.
Polished.
Scrappy.
Mostly rude, with a dose of sensitivity as needed.
In my youth, I even ditched my fleeting dream of becoming the next Olympic gold gymnast after wasting two classes worth of my parents’ money at the gym to train. I should’ve been ashamed, but this boy I liked, Chris Smith, was cute as molasses, and I preferred spending time with him over face-planting on the gym mat every time I fumbled a flip.
Behind every solution, I’d been the problem. Maybe except for Jonas, but I’d had a hand in that too.
Talent drew in a deep breath. “I may have taken a detour through technology, but my love for cars and cooking hasn’t changed. I’m only thirty-two, so there’s still plenty of time for me to figure out what I want to do with my life. What about you?”
“Well, while you were dreaming, I lucked up on being a divorced, single mom at twenty-eight, currently residing in my grandmother’s renovated office building rent-free, and smelling like fried meat and cheese every day.”
“Ari—”
“Wait, there’s more,” I interrupted. “The twins’ father is a no-show, Paisley had to bail me out yet again to help me get back on my feet, and I haven’t had a decent meal or good night’s sleep in months. And now I end up here seeing you for the first time in years, and I’m looking like the bullet you dodged.”
Talent shook his head. “Looks to me like I’m the one who missed out. On you.” He gently opened Riley’s hand, freed his hair, and kissed her forehead before handing her back to me. My reward? My baby’s euphoric silence as I spun and quickly returned her to her seat next to River. Once I got Riley settled, he rested his hand on my shoulder, smiling. “The chaos may not help you see it, but you’re doing a fantastic job, Ari. Give yourself a break. You’re not a mess…you’re a mom.”
Sometimes hearing that you weren’t a complete failure was all you needed to keep the wheels from falling off the car while you were driving. And it didn’t hurt when the mechanic on call happened to be a six-foot, tastefully tatted superhero, who was good with your babies.
“Thank you, Talent. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
“If you were failing, you wouldn’t be pushing through. Spit up and all,” he said. “By the way, the truth doesn’t begged to be thanked. It just has to be accepted.”
The awkward silence that followed as people squeezed their carts past us in the aisles gave me time to digest the physical changes I noticed in Talent since I last saw him. Some things about him remained the same, though. Like the shorts giving a tease of his muscular calves, his center-parted hair, and oh my gosh, those lips, those lips, those scrumptious juices and berries that I used to adore.
“Ari? You all right?” Talent’s voice snatched me from my trip down memory lane.
“I’m fine.” My deep sigh handed me my return ticket to reality. “Listen, it’s great seeing you, but I need to finish shopping before the kiddos and I get kicked out of this store. As small as this town is, I’m sure you and I will run into each other again.”
“How about tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, how about we run into each other tonight?”
I despised my head for the way I felt it bobbing back and forth in the negative, against my will. “I’m exhausted, I don’t have a babysitter”—I sniffed under my arms—“and my twenty-four-hour deodorant is on its last thirty minutes. Believe me, a pity date’s definitely not on my bingo card for today. But thanks. Appreciate it.”
I pivoted and clamped my hands around the handle of the cart, but he slid his hand over mine, stopping me. “It’s not a date, it’s a catch-up. And you don’t need a babysitter—the kids are invited.”
“Talent…”
“Please, let me treat you. It’s not out of pity either. Listen, we didn’t end on bad terms, and it doesn’t have to be that way now. It’ll be fun; I’ll even kick in a stick of deodorant for you.” He melted my bewildered glare with a sumptuous grin. “Come on, hang out with me. I’m staying at the Peachtree Club Condos.”
“Oh, swanky,” I purred.
“I’d be plenty swankier if it was mine,” he said. “It’s my friend Grant Thomas’s spare place. The one he uses for…” He swallowed the ‘bro code’ before it tumbled from his mouth. “Grant doesn’t stay there regularly, so I’m crashing there until I find a permanent spot.”
“The Grant Thomas who owns Urban Essence Beauty Emporium?”
“The beauty-supply king himself. Why don’t you and Riley and River come be my first guests? I’ll get whatever kind of milk you need for the little ones, and cook whatever you want for you. It’ll be like old times.” He glanced at my babies. “And double the fun.”
I peeked at Riley, who offered me a raised white flag in the form of her toothless smile. As if to assure me, I’ll be on my best behavior. “Okay, it’s a date.”
A wave of relief washed over Talent’s face. “Anything you want in particular?”
To rewind the clock and make you my babies’ daddy.
“Surprise me.”
End of Excerpt
