Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy #1)(22)
Yeah, that sounded stupid even in his head. But it was true. He was basing his opinion of her parenting on how she ate beignets.
She always pulled out wet wipes and cleaned the table before she sat. She covered her lap with a napkin so that she didn’t get powdered sugar on her pants. She pulled her hair back and secured it with a clip she always had in her purse so that she could lean in over the table and not get her hair in her food. But once she had those beignets in front of her, she went for it. She cleaned up afterward, but she didn’t let a little powdered sugar get in the way of her enjoyment. And damn, watching her lick powdered sugar from her fingers was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen.
It was how she ate crawfish, too. And how she enjoyed the city. And how she had sex.
She was completely prepared, but she didn’t shy away. She twisted and sucked crawfish, just like a native. But she always put the plastic bib on first. She used lots of sunscreen and kept her purse close so it couldn’t be pickpocketed, but that didn’t keep her from roaming all over New Orleans. She took it upon herself to be in charge of the condoms during sex, along with a second form of birth control, but once she rolled that baby on, she went for it.
Yeah, that was Addison Sloan. She was smart and prepared and in charge . . . but she didn’t let it stop her from having a good time.
That had to be how she parented, too. Carefully permissive. She’d let Stella run free . . . as long as Addison could see her and get to her if there was a problem.
Gabe could definitely take a couple of lessons from her. Lessons in how to make his son feel secure while still exploring and trying new things.
He should call her.
Gabe scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t call her. For one, it would sound pathetic. “Hey, Addison, I know you don’t want to date me or even fuck me anymore, but maybe you could help me be a better dad.” Yeah, that would go over well. It would also sound like an excuse to see her. Which it would be. In part. Though he really would love to know how she’d handle Cooper and the alligators . . .
But no. What he needed to do was get the hell over her. Forget about her. Move on.
So, of course, he pulled out his phone and ordered a gift basket to be delivered to her office with a special invitation on the card.
Chapter Four
She would do anything for a great praline.
She wasn’t proud of it. It wasn’t something she wanted just anyone to know, because it could be used against her. But it was true. A fresh praline from the Magnolia Praline Company was the way to her heart.
Addison bit into one and moaned. And read the card again. “Welcome to New Orleans! Join us for our weekly meeting of the Single-Parents Support Group. This week’s meeting will be on Thursday at seven p.m. at the community center on Beacon Street.”
A single-parents support group? She’d never been a part of a support group before. But then again, the words support and group weren’t really a part of her vocabulary. She didn’t do things by committee. She didn’t ask for opinions from girlfriends about her clothes, she didn’t ask for input on her designs at work, and she certainly didn’t ask for advice about parenting. She’d let someone else have a say in Stella’s life once before. And he’d fucked everything up. So she was done with that.
She didn’t even ask her parents for help.
Her parents—her father, in particular—had taught Addison and her sister from a young age all about taking care of their own business and dealing with the consequences of their actions. Addison had experienced it herself in small lessons. Like the time she’d had to write an apology note to their neighbor for picking some of her flowers. Or the time she’d had to sit and wait for an hour outside of her school because she’d been messing around with her friends and had missed her ride home. Being the CEO of the company, her father could have, of course, left immediately, but he’d waited until five o’clock to pick her up because then it could be a learning experience.
Her sister, Angela, on the other hand, had been a slower learner. Or more stubborn about learning. She’d been arrested twice—once for shoplifting and once for underage drinking—and had spent the night in jail both times before their father bailed her out. Angela had failed her freshman year of college and lost her scholarship, and their father had informed her that she would need to get a job and an apartment and would have to figure out a way to either get her degree or support herself, because she’d messed up her chance at doing it all for free.
So when Addison had gotten pregnant, she’d known that, while her parents would be there to help babysit and would come to Stella’s birthday parties and would even start a college fund for her daughter, it was up to Addison to support her child and be the primary caregiver.
And that was exactly what had happened. They’d helped out with babysitting, even helped take care of her when she was sick and Addison needed to work. They’d helped pay for the swanky preschool that her father had felt was important. But not only had Addison never even considered moving in with them, they never would have offered.
Addison frowned. Where had that thought come from?
But she knew. It was Gabe. The man she couldn’t stop thinking about even a week after their lunch. It didn’t help that everything about the town she now lived in reminded her of him. From the balconies on the buildings she was working on to the magnolia trees all over town, everything made her think of Gabe.