Page 38 of The Bitter Rival

“No, Austin. That was no one.”

“Why was he calling your name?”

“I work with him at the hospital. But, he’s no one. Don’t worry, okay. Let me get your dinner. It’s late.” Trying to think quickly on my feet to something that would both comfort and instantly distract him from the current situation, I fire back, “How about grilled cheese for dinner?”

“Yes. I like grilled cheese, Mom.”

“I’ll make it if you promise to eat some fruit and a small salad. Now go wash up for me, okay,” I coax.

“Yes, Mom.” There’s a slight pause before he says, “I hate salad.” Then he heads toward the washroom.

Chuckling at my stoic boy, I grab the skillet and go in search of bread, butter, and cheese.Thank God he isn’t lactose intolerant. I don’t know what I’d do.I find lettuce and ingredients for a small fruit salad in the crisper. At least that diverted his attention away from our uninvited guest. Taking great care not to lop off a fingertip as I’m aggressively chopping away at bananas, apples, and oranges, I can’t help but fume at Sebastian’s facial expression when he overheard Austin. He’d sneered the word mom, mocking Austin, and appeared horrified. The memory makes my heart lurch.

Sadly, I’m used to this. Not quite this in your face with other men, however. I don’t know why it’s harder coming from Sebastian. There should be no surprise that the playboy surgeon would be repulsed by a single mom. He didn’t want anything from me beyond taking me to pound town. Well, that destination can be checked off his bucket list, and he can now move on to some other willing, what? Hospital employee?Gah!How could I have been so stupid? Going back over there and throwing myself at his stupid sexy self. The sweet way he teased my dimples and held me after our ravenous night of unbridled sex was just part of his seduction package, I suppose. His one night, and let’s move along seduction package.

But if he’s truly a one-and-done kind of guy, why was he at my house? Monument Avenue’s a big road with large, beautiful trees and historic homes dotted up and down. I guess it’s not that much of a stretch to think he decided to run somewhere beautiful. But my particular portion of this expansive road? I mean, what are the odds, really?

I scrape the chopped morsels of overripe fruit into a bowl and begin spreading butter on the first slice of bread. It’s evident I’m taking my irritation out on the innocent pieces of dough as they start to crumble with my overzealous application of butter. Dropping the bread and knife onto the counter, I place my head in my hands. Why am I letting this guy get to me? It’s not like I was here pining for him. I mean, sure, he’s hot as hell and can back up his prowess with the best orgasms I’ve ever had. But this is purely physical. I’ve known it from the start. Yet, the way I felt lying in his bed, wrapped up in those strong, corded arms, started to play with my head each time. I fully expected him to push me out the door as soon as the deed was done. Instead, he pulled me into him and held me so tight. The feeling caused an ache in my chest. Both times, I felt an identical squeeze of longing I had to push away as I crawled out of his bed.

I’m not stupid. I’m lonely. It’s only natural for a woman who’s been alone this long to want more. It has nothing to do with him. His pheromones just do something to my brain. I guess that’s why I started to panic. Yes, I needed to get home to my son. But honestly, the clench of my heart in reaction to his embrace was disturbing. Each time he’d nuzzle his nose into my hair, it was like turning a worn key into a locked door. A doorway that could only lead to heartache. I need to invest in a padlock for that sucker and keep my head on straight. It’s painfully obvious he isn’t interested in someone like me. I again shudder at the reminder of Sebastian’s obvious displeasure when he heard Austin. What’s worse, if I ever did decide to enter a healthy relationship with someone… well, Sebastian Lee has completely ruined sex for me with anyone else. Because there’s no doubt, he’s set the bar higher than any other man could reach.

Grabbing a fresh piece of bread, I try to apply the now softer butter more gingerly before dropping it into the sizzling pan. I retrieve the remaining items we’ll need for dinner and finish the grilled cheese before calling Austin to the table. Wiping the remaining butter from my fingers with a dish towel, I walk toward my son’s room to see what he’s up to. Peeking in the door, I find he has his sketch pad lying on his beanbag chair to guide him as he lightly mimics the drawing with a charcoal pencil on the wall. Tilting my head to take it in, I all but shrug my shoulders, knowing I haven’t a clue where he’s going with this one.

“Do you want to eat in here or at the table?” I interrupt.

“Can we eat here, Mom?”

“Sure, Austin. I’ll make a tray.” Returning to the kitchen, I gather our dinner and two glasses of water and return to his room. “Just don’t wait too long to eat. Grilled cheese isn’t very good cold.”

His appreciation for warm cheese apparently gets his attention as he quickly puts down his pencil and comes to stand beside me. “Do I have to eat the salad, Mom?”

“Yes, Austin. You can’t live on cheese alone.” I take a crunchy bite and let the soothing taste of butter and cheese melt on my tongue before I swallow. “Going to give me a hint what this one’s going to be?” I ask, pointing my elbow toward the wall.

“Falling leaves,” he replies between bites. “I like all of the colors,” he adds.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that one.” I smile, taking another succulent bite. I tilt my head, taking in the primitive drawings. Ah, now that he’s shared his direction, these do look like leaves. I watch as my son lovingly considers his drawing and devours the remainder of his sandwich in two big bites.Yeah, who needs a man? I’ve got all I need right here.

Sebastian

“Jesus,” I shout as the cold water hits my skin. Still distracted by the constant replay of the evening’s events in my head, I step back from the jets until the temperature can warm up. Between the exhausting jog and the uncomfortable run-in with Isabella, I couldn’t wait to get a hot shower and clear my head. Turning up the heat a bit more, I tilt my head back to allow the spray to pound into my scalp. How did that interaction turn so hostile?

Mom?Hell, I’m sure the stunned look on my face had her thinking it was directed at her son. I’d been so fixated on who the man was she ran home to, I never considered it was a child. Not that he looks like a child.Fuck, I thought she was a cougar.

He must be a late teen. From what little I could gather, he almost seemed Gavin’s age. He’s a little taller than Gavin. His hair color matched his mother’s, yet the rest not so much. He’s tall, thin, and appeared to have blue eyes in the short glimpse of him I managed. What’s more, he seemed reserved. Despite holding the hand of a woman who resembled a human grenade, he was calm and collected as he answered her respectively and went into the house.

Scrubbing the suds from my hair, I shake my head and turn off the water. Reaching for a thick towel, I make quick work of drying off and finding a T-shirt and shorts before heading to the bar. Tonight’s entrée will be of the liquid variety.

Pouring two fingers of scotch, I slump into my leather recliner and take a sip. This whole situation with Isabella has been a cluster fuck of epic proportions. Taking another sip and allowing it to burn my senses to a more alert state, I consider recent events. I was cocky enough to think I could still get her back in my bed after her pronouncement in the cafeteria. The ‘other man’ was the only thing standing in my way. Challenge accepted.

It suddenly dawns on me that there could still beanother man. Was her husband in the house waiting for them? Yet, after seeing her with her son this evening, I have a greater sense of calm regarding who she’s been running home to. While it’s possible someone is waiting in the wings, I’m no longer preoccupied with that. I don’t get the feeling Isabella is the cheating type. She appears to take her commitments seriously. I think she returned to me for the pleasure of it. Because she could.

It’s obvious how good we are together. Hell, she came to my house and walked right in, taking what she wanted. Not that I minded one damn bit. But it’s clear, this isn’t one-sided. Maybe her libido is as revved and ready to go as mine is. Yet, this isn’t just her body and the hot sex for me. I’ve never chased after anyone before. So why did I want her to stay? Hell, letting her leave the club the night we met didn’t seem like an option. I was almost fanatical about taking her home with me.

If Isabella Potter is my crack, I don’t want to go to rehab. I just want another hit. Another snarky smirk in my direction. One more half-smile that pushes her dimples into high gear. I’ve been in full control practically my whole life. But I’ve never been happier than when that petite powerhouse barged into my home and started barking at me.

Chuckling at the memory of her telling me to zip it, I swirl the scotch in my glass before taking another sip. As the sting of the alcohol brings clarity to my predicament, it hits me with full force. I want to know her. I like the feeling I could be a better man with her around. Sure, we haven’t had much interaction beyond the physical, but her presence does something to me. It’s changed me somehow.

It’s horrendous to confess that my disrespectful behavior in the OR would probably still be occurring if she hadn’t put me in my place. And I wouldn’t have entertained a rebuttal from anyone else. Their conversation would’ve been discontinued on the spot. I recoil at the knowledge of my selfish arrogance but know beyond a shadow of a doubt, it’s true. Isabella has been my wake-up call. None of this would’ve happened if she was just a booty call.

---