Falling for the Babysitter

“Bullshit. Sam would never do that,” I say. If there was one person I know Sam hates more than anyone else, it’s Karen. She was horrible to him from day one.

She smiles smugly. “I pretended I was an insurance provider on the phone and he spilled all your personal info me. Someone should tell that guy he has a big mouth.”

Believe me, I have. He never learns. I plan to give him an earful about it next time we talk.

It makes perfect sense. Karen and her schemes. Some things never change. I would really love to slam the door in her face right now and go back to making love to my beautiful girlfriend who doesn’t deserve to be put through any of this. I can tell Remy doesn’t want to stay, but she does because she wants to be here for me. I don’t want to put her through this anymore.

“Babe, could you make sure I blew out that candle in the room?” I say to her.

She lets out a long sigh of relief and gives me a sympathetic smile. “Sure.”

When she’s gone, I turn back to Karen who watches Remy walk away. “Jesus, Deacon, what is she, twelve?”

eighteen and far more mature than you ever

She thinks she can come back here and boss me around like she used to. Well, fuck that.

“I’m here to get my daughter.” She spits the

like a punch in the

eavesdropping. She looks terrified. “You can’t come back here after being gone for months and just take her. You have no

mother,” Karen says, her lip curling into a vaudevillian

hell I’m letting you anywhere near my daughter. No. Fucking.

Destroy everything I’ve built. Everything I will fight to death for. I’ve never raised my hand to a woman. Never even entertained the idea. But seeing that look on her face and knowing she plans to

have to take me to court for custody,” I say. “No judge will ever hand Bailey over to you. You’re a drunk and have no stability. You’re practically a

see that. I have

what’s her angle? With the way she keeps looking at Remy, I think I can guess. She probably blew through all the guys she’s been dating—literally and figuratively—and once they saw through her shit, most likely, they dumped her. So, as usual, she comes running back to me. This has happened plenty of times in the past. Like a fool, I always took her back because of my dreams of having the perfect family. Things would be good between us for a while. She would do wifely things: make dinners, do laundry, go shopping. But then she’d always get that itch to go party. One night of going out with the girls led to another night, and another, until it was every night. Then she