Page 71 of His Vivacious Angel
“Sorry, tonight’s not gonna work,” she says.
The house is weirdly silent. With six kids, we usually have to speak close to a shout to be heard over them all. It’s not bedtime yet, so they should be running around after finishing up dinner.
“Why’s it so quiet in here?” I ask.
James steps up behind Shayla, bare-chested and weirdly sweaty, wearing thin black sweatpants low on his hips. Gah, I so do not need to see him like that. He wraps his arms around her, and I notice the silky and highly wrinkled pink nightie she’s wearing, as if she was in a rush to get dressed and grabbed the first thing she saw on the floor.
“The kids are having a sleepover at Bailey’s,” James says, kissing Shayla’s neck, which is pink from his stubble marks, and she giggles. “So we have the night to ourselves.”
I shift in my new slippers. I’ve bought no less than a dozen pairs since they keep going missing. I have my suspicions where they’ve gone, but I haven’t said anything yet. Figuring I can shove cotton balls in my ears for makeshift earplugs, I ask, “Can’t I at least sleep upstairs?” Surely a whole floor between us means I won’t hear too much, and the couch they keep in their home office is better than nothing.
Shayla shakes her head. “Love you, but I need you to get lost A-S-A-P.”
“Ugh, fine,” I say, shuffling backward. James all but slams the door, and Shayla lets loose a squeal that can be heard loud and clear from the street. Gross.
I tap my foot and call Eden.
“Hello?” she answers breathily, sounding as if she’s just finished a vigorous workout, even though she hates the gym.
“Oh my god, don’t tell me your kids are with Bailey too,” I whine.
She laughs. “Yup. What’s up?”
“I was going to ask if I can sleep on your couch?—”
“Now’s not a good time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks anyway.” I end the call.
Now, where do I go? Since Bailey’s house is likely bursting at the seams and I don’t want to bunk with all my nieces and nephews and sleep on the floor again, I make my way to my car to throw my duffel bag inside. Looks like I’ll have to book a hotel room after I help put Forest’s kids to bed. I'm considering skipping going to his house altogether, since I don’t have Brady to chaperone, but the idea of it makes my stomach hurt. I’d never be able to fall asleep, and I’d wind up right back here in a few hours’ time. These weeks have done fuck-all to lessen my need to see them every day and kiss them goodnight. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that Forest and whichever woman he ends up with are just going to have to deal with me and the bomb that I’ll eventually have to drop.
Loosening the belt of my robe to give me some breathing room, I cross the street again. I only get one number punched into the electric keypad before Forest sweeps the door open.
“Finally,” he says.
I pretend to check the invisible watch on my wrist. “I’m not late for bedtime.”
“No, I know,” he says, rubbing his hands together. He’s acting strange, smiling broadly at me every time I turn to look over my shoulder as he follows me down to the nursery. He bumps up against my back when I stop short in the open doorway.
“Where are the boys?” I quickly move back down toJosephine’s bedroom. “Where’s Josie?” Forest clears his throat when I slowly turn to him with building irritation.
“They’re spending the night at Bailey’s,” he says.
Lanced through the chest, I ask, “You couldn’t let me say goodnight before you dropped them off?” Looks like I’ll end up at Bailey’s after all.
“Autumn—”
My eyes and cheeks grow hot. “You don’t have to say it,” I snap. “I know I’m not their mother, but you could have at least given me a heads up.”
“Ah, about that, I?—”
I fist my hands and jut my chin, fury crawling under my skin. “Seriously, after everything I’ve done for this family, you owe me a little consideration when making these decisions. And how do you think they feel?” I swipe a stray, angry tear away. “Don’t you think they would have wanted to see me, too?”Didn’t they?“They’re probably upset, wondering why I didn’t come to see them before they left.”
“Would you shut up?” Forest says, though he’s smiling all the more.
My mouth drops open, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to curse up a storm, when he suddenly snags my wrist and tugs me across the hall to the door of the fourth bedroom.
“I want to show you something,” he says.
