Page 54 of Play Dirty

“If you’d like to change, the guest bathroom is over there.” Patty points.

“Thank you.”

I change into my bathing suit and slather myself with sunscreen.

I’m looking forward to spending the day with Marty—and his family. I already love the kids and his mom seems nice.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a family, which is one of the many reasons I’ve always desperately wanted to get married. And have a family of my own. I’ll never have the children I’ve always wanted, but maybe there’s a guy out there like Marty, who already has all the children he’s going to have. And who wouldn’t mind me being their stepmom.

“Hey.” Marty’s coming down the stairs as I step out of the bathroom.

“Hi.”

“You ready for the chaos?”

“Absolutely.”

He pauses and then brushes his lips across mine. “I’m glad you said yes,” he whispers.

“Said yes?” I ask in confusion.

“To spending the day with my family. I know it’s a lot.”

“I love family,” I say honestly. “And your kids are great. Why would I have said no?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I feel like I’m damaged goods, you know? The divorce, three kids…I’m a lot.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You thinkyou’redamaged goods? Hello, have you not been there for my nightmares and panic attacks?”

Something shifts between us in that moment, like an emotional dam opening, and the look in his eyes makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“There is nothing damaged about you,” he whispers. “You are perfect in every way, Stevie.”

Chapter17

Marty

It’sa busy but somewhat lazy day.

My kids are energetic, but they also like to chill.

We played in the pool for a while, and then they were content to sit at the outdoor table and have a snack. Bradley fell asleep so I took him upstairs, which gave us all a break since he’s the one who requires the most supervision. Martin is happy to splash and play on the steps of the pool by himself, and Emma doesn’t mind floating in her big pink tube, kicking her legs and playing with her doll.

Stevie spent an equal amount of time with each child, making sure not to let Emma dominate her time.

The two of them are adorable, and I love watching them together.

Brenna’s a good mom—she takes care of them—but she doesn’t always seem to like them. I used to sense her impatience, her frustration, and wonder why. It wasn’t like she didn’t have help. I always made sure of that. Somehow, it just wasn’t enough.

Hell, nothing was ever enough.

Apparently, I wasn’t enough either.

When she first left, that grated on my ego.

Now I’m more pragmatic about it—it was her choice to cheat, her choice not to tell me what she needed. I take full responsibility for not noticing how unhappy she was, but I can’t help that she refused to talk to me. I tried.

Didn’t I?

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