Fall (VIP #3)(69)



“Seriously, it’s just embarrassing. He’s happily married, you know.”

Annoyance skitters down my spine. I just had my tongue in John’s mouth, and he thinks I’m crushing on Scottie? Then again, the man is gorgeous—I can see how he’d make any guy leery.

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Oh, for crying out loud, I was talking about the baby.” I make a goofy face at the cooing little. “Wasn’t I? You cute little dude.”

“Little dude,” repeats Whip with a smile. “I like it.”

John expels a breath, having the grace to appear chagrined. “Right. Felix. Didn’t see him there. Hey, little man.”

“You were distracted by my stunning good looks, weren’t you?” Scottie quips. “I get that a lot.”

John flips him the finger.

“Is that his name?” I ask Scottie.

“Yes, this is my son, Felix Tiberius Scott.”

Felix lifts a fist as if to say, “Respect my awesomeness, woman!”

Scottie gave his son a Star Trek name? I fall a little more in love with the both of them. Though, really, Scottie is too cold and too pretty for anything other than casual admiration. His baby, though? I want to bite those chubby cheeks.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” Another lift of those imperious brows. “Miss?”

I get the weird feeling he knows but is asking out of politeness.

John and I speak over each other.

“I’m—”

“She’s—”

Whip cuts us off. “Maddy, right?” He gives me an innocent smile. “Jax told me he’s been making dinners for his neighbor Maddy.”

Maddy? Who the fuck is Maddy? I stiffen, my face feeling like concrete. He’s been making “dinner” for one of the other neighbors? I’m just one of many?

“Ah, no, I’m …”

John makes a noise of irritation. “This is Stella, not Maddy. Jesus, I think it’s pretty fucking clear she’s not Maddy, you asshat.”

Okay, that hurt. I can’t pretend it didn’t. I shoot John a glare as he ushers Scottie and Whip inside, but I don’t get to say a word because Scottie turns and pins me to the spot with his weirdly intense gaze. “We finally meet, Ms. Grey.”

Oh, shit. I’m not supposed to be in contact with John. And here I am. In close, personal contact. I open my mouth and find my voice gone.

“Did you seriously tell her not to talk to me?” John says, putting it all out there.

Scottie gives him a passing glance and Felix blows spit bubbles.

“Yes, I’m Stella Grey. I know you said not to engage with John but—”

“Yeah,” John drawls, “that plan went out the door when she stole my ice cream.”

I round on John, who is now a dead man. “Hey! You had your paws all over my mint chip. I just took it back.” Each word is punctuated by a poke to his ribs.

John skitters back with a yelp. “Jesus, calm down with the stabby finger. And we both know that’s not true, Stella Button. Need I mention the—”

“Utter another word and I will bite you like a rabid ferret.”

John gapes at me for a second, then bursts out laughing—full, shoulder-shaking laughing that cause tears to well in his eyes.

I huff out an annoyed breath. “I’m serious. Fear my wrath, rocker boy.”

He laughs harder. “Make it stop,” he rasps through his tears. “My stomach hurts.”

“Ass-nugget,” I mutter, which makes him hunch over.

The coo of a baby has me pausing, and I realize we have an audience, one I’d totally forgotten about. Heat rushes over my face and prickles my skin. Oh, fucking hell. Mortified, I elbow John and slowly turn to face Scottie and Whip.

Whip grins wide and pleased and, to my horror, he’s recording John laughing. “Sorry,” he says to me, “but that had to be saved for posterity.”

I have no idea why the sight of John losing it is that big a deal, but I’m too focused on Scottie to care. “Sorry,” I say to my employer. “I really didn’t mean that.”

Scottie’s dark brow wings up. “That would be a shame, Ms. Grey. If anyone needs to be taken down by a woman emulating a rabid ferret, it’s Jax.”

God, I really did say rabid ferret. I want to slink away and hide.

John sobers then. “Hey,” he says outraged, “what did I do?”

“Shall we print up a list?” Scottie murmurs without any heat. Then he turns to me. “Rest assured, Ms. Grey, my intent was to spare you any irritation. It was certainly not to keep you from meeting Jax.”

“She calls him John,” Whip points out, still weirdly happy.

“It’s my name.” John flicks Whip’s ear and then dances out of reach when Whip reaches to smack his head. John glares at Scottie. “And you, Mr. Traitor, keep this up and I’m telling Sophie the stroller you bought is not Parent Guideline approved.”

Little Felix makes an indignant squawk.

Scottie pales, his arrogant brow wrinkling. “An utter lie. You wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“Try me.” John sniffs, his chin lifting. “Bad enough you tried to pound my door down.”

Whip snorts. “Interrupted, did we?” He appears fairly pleased at the notion.

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