First Comes Love

  “Jade,” Vivian coolly answered then turned toward Kat. “Katherine, what happened to your hair? You really need to visit a salon.”

  “Hi, Mom. Nothing happened to it. I didn’t do it yet.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be standing out front with it looking like that. What if your neighbors saw you?”

  Jade snorted and Kat shot her a reproving look.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Mom.” She kissed Mia goodbye and buckled her in her car seat. “Well, I have a lot of things to do today, so I’ll see you later.”

  Vivian’s eyes narrowed, lips pursing as if sucking a lemon, likely holding back a comment, probably due to Jade’s presence. God forbid Kat’s friends know what kind of a mother Vivian really was.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. D’Angelo,” Jade practically sung.

  “Goodbye, Jade. Katherine, I’ll speak to you later.”

  The moment the car pulled away Jade muttered under her breath. “Bitch.”

  No offense was taken. It was true and Jade’s memory was long. Kat couldn’t object to that sort of loyalty. Jade was a good friend.

  Kat pushed her cart alongside Tyson’s at the local market.

  “You should get these for Mia,” he said, holding up a carton of patriotic sprinkled cupcakes.

  “I only buy what’s on the list.”

  He shopped with a completely different mindset than she did, rolling down each aisle, inspecting everything that caught his eye, and throwing things willy-nilly into his cart. He bought only brand names, whereas she shopped from the generic shelves, and according to her coupons.

  He shrugged and put the cupcakes in his cart. “Do you do something with your family for Fourth of July?”

  “Not unless I’m summoned.” She searched for the peanut butter that matched her coupon.

  “What’s the deal with your mom and dad?”

  “What do you mean?” They moved on to the freezer section.

  “I mean, why do you let them boss you around?” He pulled out half a dozen Hungry Man microwavable dinners and dropped them in his cart.

  She stilled. They’d been through this, but now he seemed a little less guarded with his words. “I don’t let them boss me around,” she argued. “I just don’t like disappointing them.”

  “Do you ever stop to consider if they’re disappointing you?”

  She frowned. They were her parents. It wasn’t her place to judge them. Maybe it wasn’t their place to judge her either. She didn’t want to talk about this. “I don’t know. I’m the kid, they’re the parents, it’s the way things work.”

  She didn’t like thinking about her family more than she had to. It never brought about any good feelings and she was in a pretty good mood at the moment. No point in ruining it.

  “But at what point do they accept that you’re also a parent, and an adult for that matter?”

  She lowered the cereal box she was holding and met his gaze. He was leading them into an emotional game of devil’s advocate she wasn’t in the mood to play, especially in a wide-open aisle of the grocery store.

  She took a deep breath and shifted to fully face him. “I don’t know, Tyson. They’ve always been hard to please. In their minds, what I did was unforgivable. I’m lucky they even acknowledge Mia. They didn’t for the first two months of her life. I don’t have siblings and cousins like you do. They’re all I’ve got. And if I want Mia to have family that extends beyond myself, my best friend and a babysitter, then I have to accept them the way they are.”

  He gave her a sad smile that said he didn’t agree, but he didn’t press the issue. Leaning close, he kissed her nose. “What are we doing after this?”

  “I have to stop at the library.”

  In the car he sorted through the novels she’d borrowed. “Relationships We Don’t See?” He turned the book over and read the back blurb.

  Her hands tightened on the wheel. “I got it because of Gorrum.”

  “Gorrum?”

  She swallowed. “Mia’s invisible friend. He’s been staying with us for a while.”

  His expression lit up as he grinned. “I used to have an invisible friend.”

  “You did?”

  “Yup. Clarence. He was a space cowboy.”

  She laughed. “How long did you have him?”

  “I’m not sure. He was around for a good part of my childhood. I don’t really remember when he left. Maybe when Sophia was born. He sort of just phased out.” He put the book back in the bag. “What did the book say?”

  “That imaginary friends reveal a child’s fears and anxieties.”

  “Do you think Mia’s afraid of something?”

  “No.”

  It didn’t bother her that Mia had an invisible friend. She looked at it as an expression of vivid imagination. What did bother her was the stigma that Gorrum might represent something more, something lacking in her daughter’s life. She wanted Mia to have everything she needed. That meant supplementing all the emotional support necessary. Maybe Gorrum was compensating for something Kat couldn’t provide.

  “One theory claimed they help children acquire social skills faster. Nothing in that book made it seem like having an invisible friend was a bad thing. And I asked Dr. Stevens about it and he made it seem like it was a natural part of childhood. I feel a little left out that I never had one.”

  “Yeah, Clarence was awesome.”

  It wasn’t a laughing matter, so she forced the bubble of laughter back down. “Could you see him?”

  “No, but I knew what he looked like. He always wore space boots and a long trench coat. I don’t remember his face, but that wasn’t important.”

  “Gorrum's a purple, zebra striped, dinosaur—that meows.”

  “Maybe Mia’s lonely. When’s Gorrum usually around?”

  “Maybe you’re right. He doesn’t usually show up until I’m preoccupied. But then he lingers for a while.” Mia once told her that Gorrum, like Mrs. Bradshaw, was ‘lergic’ to Trixie, so it made sense Tyson hadn’t been introduced. Heat crept up her neck. “Sometimes we set a place for him at the table.”

  “You’re a cool mom. My parents looked at me like I was nuts whenever I mentioned Clarence, so he usually disappeared for family things. Gloria used to purposely try to sit on him.”

  She did laugh at that. Listening to a successful adult reflect on their own experiences was more comforting than that dumb book had been. She decided to not worry about the Gorrum issue and let Mia’s phase follow its natural course.

  When they returned home Tyson carried in her groceries. He went to his place to unload his stuff and let Trixie out. When he returned, she had the table set with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one for her, and two for him. “Welcome to Café a’ la Kat.”

  After lunch she agreed to help him paint one of the spare bedrooms in his house. Being neighbors created a familiarity she didn’t think most new couples shared. She never had to worry about looking her best, because Tyson had already seen her at her worst. Oddly, that no longer bothered her.

  The room was large and the moldings were already trimmed with blue masking tape. The supplies were organized on a tarp in the center of the floor. He kept things pretty orderly.

  “Do you want to cut in or roll?” He asked, holding up a brush and a roller.

  “I’ll cut in.”

  They worked quietly as the radio played random songs on a local station. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth every time he sang along. He had a nice voice.

  The soft squishing sound of the roller and the bristly swipe of the brush were very soothing. She thought more about the art class he’d mentioned the night before and decided she was going to do it. “Ty?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  Her heart did a little cartwheel whenever he called her that. “If you’re still willing to watch Mia, I think I’m going to take that class at the community center.”

  The roller stopped and he smiled at her.

  “What?”

  Placi
ng the roller in the tray, he slowly walked to where she sat cross-legged on the tarp covering the floor. Without taking his gaze from her, he took the paintbrush, and crouched in front of her. “I’m happy you decided to do something for yourself.” Leaning close, he ran a thumb over her cheek. “You have paint all over yourself.”

  She looked down. Little spatters of beige coated her legs and a long smear marked the inside of her arm. “Maybe I need that painting class more than I realized.”

  “I think,” he said as he moved the bucket of paint aside. “You look sexy all messed up.”

  Her pulse quickened as he kneeled, the tarp crunching beneath his weight.

  “As a matter of fact, I find myself hard pressed not to take you right here in the middle of this mess.” His gaze smoldered as he looked at her with pure, lustful intent.

  A second of complete stillness stretched and then he was on her. His mouth slanted over hers as her back pressed into the tarp. Her legs unfolded from beneath her and entwined with his. There was no wasting time. She kicked off her shoes as Ty yanked down her pants and slipped a finger into her sex.

  She arched and moaned. His hand worked quick, pumping in and out of her as his tongue matched the rhythm in her mouth. Shimmying down her front, he tugged her shorts down lower as his mouth sealed over her clit and she moaned.

  He licked at her with such driven intent. Shoulders lifting off the ground, knees bent, she pressed her sex against his mouth. Her orgasm snuck up on her so fast she could barely contain her shouts as waves of pleasure rocked through her.

  Kneeling between her thighs, he urgently pulled a condom from his pocket. Without fully removing his jeans, he fit himself to her opening and plunged deep to the hilt.

  Fast, hard strokes stabbed into her, her body tightening again. Fingers dug into her ass as he lifted her to him. He gripped her bottom, raising her slightly off the ground and pulling her hard on his cock. Her mind focused on the delicious way he tapped that sensitive spot deep inside of her with each hard thrust.

  “Let me see your breasts,” he commanded as he continued to drill into her.

  Hesitating only a second, she lifted her shirt, bunching the material under her neck.

  His eyes widened. “Slide down the bra.”

  Her fingers pulled down the cotton cups covering her breasts as her body jiggled with each pump of his hips.

  “Hold them. Let me see you play with them.”

  Her lips parted as her hand wavered. “What?” She couldn’t do that.

  “Touch yourself, kitten. Let me see you play with those pretty pink nipples.”

  With a shaky palm she cupped her breast. His strokes slowed as he ground his cock into her core. “That’s it. Pinch the tips. Get them nice and hard.”

  She did as he instructed and his mouth lowered. His tongue licked between her fingers, over her pebbled tips, and sucked her pinky into his mouth. His eyes darkened as his thrusts became frantic. Moisture coated her side, but she was too far gone to investigate what it might be.

  Tyson threw his head back and called out her name followed by a stream of words that added up to something in between a curse and a prayer. His body pounded into hers. His cock throbbed within her sex as he let out a long hoarse moan and came, his body trembling in her grip.

  They gasped for air. Slowly coming back to herself, she looked to her right. “Uh-oh.”

  His face was buried against her shoulder as his breath teased her hair. “What’s the matter?”

  “We spilled the paint.”

  He turned and, rather than get upset, he laughed. The small bucket was on its side, the brush drowning in a river of beige. That explained the wetness she’d sensed. She tilted her chin to her shoulder and looked at her side. “I’m covered in it.”

  Again, he chuckled. “Shit.” As he withdrew, her body immediately protested. He stood, adjusted his jeans, and carefully helped her off the ground. She watched, fascinated by the act, as he turned and slowly removed the condom. He turned to her and caught her staring. “What?”

  There really wasn’t anything to say. She shook her head. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

  His expression turned serious as he stepped close, his palm cupping her cheek. “Me neither. Not like this.”

  After a quick shower, they cleaned up the spilled paint and Tyson set out a fresh tarp. He ordered a pizza, and they ate while they worked. She helped him wash out the brushes and seal up the paint cans.

  As she was kissing him goodbye in his kitchen, her mom’s car cruised past the window. “Shit,” she hissed and grabbed her keys. Luckily, he didn’t try to follow as she raced out the door.

  When she reached the yard her mom was frowning. When Mia disappeared into the house her mother dropped the sweet grandmother routine. “Where were you, Katherine?”

  “I was helping my neighbor paint.”

  “The new neighbor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? What would the neighbors think?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He is the neighbors, Mother.”

  “Well, I certainly hope you don’t let him hang around here. It’s not proper, a single mother entertaining such a man.”

  Drawing back, she crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed. “And would it be proper if Dawson Price was hanging around?”

  “That’s completely different. Dawson’s a friend of the family.”

  Yeah, some friend. “Well, Tyson’s a friend too.”

  She ached to tell Vivian what her golden boy had done, but she’d never see it from Kat’s side, no matter how badly he treated her.

  “Think about your choices, Katherine. You don’t need more trouble.”

  Shifting closer to the house and away from her mother, she huffed. “He’s not trouble, Mom. I have to go. Mia needs a bath.”

  She said nothing, but her eyes told plenty about her disapproval. It wasn’t her life and based on Kat’s past, any consequences she created would only be hers to bear. They’d proved that several times before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ty watched Kat pull away, a little nervous for his girl’s first day of art school, but proud she took the initiative to do something solely for herself. Turning, he faced Mia. She sat at the table, the picture of sweet innocence and smiled at him. “So, what do you feel like doing while Mommy’s at class, Miss Mia.”

  “Let’s bake a cake for her.”

  A cake? Okay, he could bake a cake. “All right.” That should keep them busy for the two hours. “Where’s your mom keep the mix?” Knowing Kat, she likely had a shelf labeled for things like frosting.

  Mia shrugged so he opened cabinets, but didn’t find any boxed mixes.

  “You could just use a cook book like Momma does.”

  He glanced at his little sidekick. She only came to above his knee. Her cute, rosy cheeks pulled as she smiled. How could he disappoint such an adorable thing? “Okay.”

  He found a cookbook and flipped through the table of contents. “What’s your mom’s favorite cake?”

  “Momma likes white chocolate.”

  Turning pages, he looked for anything with white chocolate in the recipe. He found something called a Swiss White Chocolate cake. The ingredients all seemed pretty basic.

  “Does your mom have white chocolate?”

  “In here.” She pointed to the freezer.

  Hidden on the top shelf in the back he found a bag of white chocolate kisses. Mia told him where the measuring cups and spoons were and soon they had themselves set up like a private little cooking show.

  “We’ll need to add the secret ‘gredient too,” she said as he tucked a dishrag into the collar of her shirt.

  “What’s the secret ingredient?”

  “Love.”

  This was the coolest kid in the world. “Of course we do. Luckily, I have some right here in my pocket.” He tapped the pocket over his heart and she smiled approvingly.

  He measured out flour, baking s
oda, sugar, and such as Mia clumsily dumped them into the big bowl. White powder sprinkled the counter, but it wasn’t anything that wouldn’t wipe up with a little water.

  When it was time to crack the egg, Mia assured him she knew how. Tyson winced as her fingers took a bath in the yoke and half the shell fell into the bowl. Plucking out the pieces, he tossed them in the disposal as he held Mia over the sink so she could wash her hands. His forearms were dusted with white powder and egg goop clung to his knuckles.

  Rather than use a mixer, he handed Mia a whisk. She stood on a kitchen chair and stirred the ingredients into a thick batter while he found a saucepan to heat the chocolate. Turning the dial to medium, he measured out some water and dumped it into the pot. Mia was making a mess at the counter, but having a good time, so he let her go. The water heated to a boil and he dropped in the chocolate. The white kisses began to melt. He stirred the mixture with a spatula as he consulted the recipe. “Where’s your mom keep the cake pans?”

  She turned and the bowl teetered on the end of the counter. He jumped and caught it as a good bit of batter landed on his arm.

  “Oops. Sorry, Tyson.”

  “That’s okay. Why is this so chunky?”

  She shrugged.

  Something wasn’t right. A hiss sounded as the pot of chocolate bubbled like white lava. Dashing to the stove, he stirred the mix, lifting it from the heat. It was smooth, but hard on the bottom, sort of lumpy in spots. He frowned and sniffed. The smell of burnt chocolate wasn’t too strong. Lowering the temperature, he put the mix back on the stove.

  After locating two round cake pans he frowned. The white sludge was now solidified on the surface of Kat’s stove. He looked at Mia and his eyes went wide. She was elbow deep in the sack flour. “Mia!”

  She jumped and the bag jerked, falling to the floor. The heavy sack landed with a thump, sending a mushroom cloud of dust into the air. Particles slowly settled on every surface of the kitchen. Mia laughed.

  “Dear God,” he muttered.

  Mia’s strawberry blonde hair was white, her eyes bright and wide against her flour caked skin.

  He breathed. “Okay, don’t move. Let me get this frosting started and then I’ll clean you up.” Of course the frosting took more minutes than a three-year-old could stay still. “Snow!” She giggled, scooping handfuls of powder and tossing it into the air.