Free The Tango by Angelica Chase Page A

trust him.
    “Da Da, down!” Bryce was no longer happy with the situation and grabbed the bath salt out of his hand and threw it on the floor behind them.
    “How do I know this is what you really want, Rhys? You never even told me. I lied about a situation, you omitted a whole person.” I couldn’t help the amount of hurt I felt. I knew I was openly crying and felt the tears burn the stitches on my face. He took a step toward me with his squirmy bundle tight in his arms.
    I took a step back and shook my head. “No, you kept this from me. I can’t stay.” My eyes wandered to Bryce, who had tilted his body toward me with his arms out, opening and closing both his hands. His eyes pleaded for me to take him and free him from his father’s arms. I studied his sweet cheeks, the dark curly hair still damp on his head. I was taken with him. He was the mirror image of the man I loved. I kissed his hand and addressed him. “I would love to hold you, sweetheart, but it’s cold.” My voice was shaking. I was going to blow. I turned quickly, walking down his first few steps.
    “Violet, please stay. There was just never a good time. The way we met, I needed time to—”
    “I get it. I really do get it. I can’t tonight. Not tonight, okay? I’m trying to be cool here. I’m upset,” I held my chest, “and I don’t want to scare him.” I turned on the steps, my eyes swimming as they slammed into his. He nodded. “Take him inside, Rhys, it’s cold.”
    “Please answer when I call,” he said, watching me walk down the steps. I walked to my car, a shaking mess. I thought we were becoming closer, but what the hell did I really know? I had no idea what the man was like in his everyday life. I was his sexual partner. We fucked, and we did it well. In that way, we were compatible. I still hadn’t learned much about him since our one day alone. He’d kept me at a distance this whole time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized why he did things the way he did. Always a text once a week, rarely twice, and always when it was convenient for him. He was a single father. Everything began to click as I thought it over.
    Click. Click. Click. Click.
    All of it made sense now, the texts instead of phone calls, the need to constantly leave for family gatherings. His family was his son! God, he had a beautiful baby boy. But where was the mother? Was she still in the picture?
    Rhys was a father. That had to be why he wanted to sell the club. He wanted to wash his hands of that part of his life. It was understandable, and actually, I loved that he was doing it.
    I was so blinded with lust and my own agenda, I hadn’t realized he had his own. He was done with the life. He was leaving it and I had just begun. It made perfect sense for him to keep me away. He didn’t know me well enough to introduce me to that part of his life. He was being protective, as he should be. And at the same time…I was pissed.
    I made it to my home in record time. I walked through the house with a broom in hand, checking closets out of pure paranoia. Once I was sure I was alone, I set the security code and called my mother.
    “Are you insane? What the hell are you doing at home alone!”
    “Well, Mom, when a woman grows up and gets a job—”
    “Don’t you take that smart ass tone with me, young lady! I’m coming over.”
    “No, Mom, I want to be alone.”
    “TOUGH SHIT!” The line went dead in my hand, and as soon as she ended the call, I jumped as it rang in my hand.
    Rhys.
    The bitter bitch in me let it ring. I had suffered because of my unfortunate circumstance. Not that having a baby was unfortunate.
    That baby. God, he made beautiful babies.
    I popped a bottle and poured.
    I had been busted in the same fucking way. This was irony at its finest, an unexpected house call that led to the discovery of a family member dwelling in the home that wasn’t expected. I voiced the end of my internal rant, screaming at my missed call.
    “Sound