Could I do this? Could I really be someone's dad?

I guess there was only one way to find out.

12. P.O.R.N.

The next week flew by pretty quickly when I wasn't thinking about Carter, which was practically every second of every day.

Okay, so I guess it didn't really fly so much as go so fucking slowly I wanted to shove a rusty fork in my eye. I wanted to talk to him and see if he was okay but every time I decided to pick up the phone and get his number, I put it right back down. Regardless of how shitty the way he found out was, now he knew. If he wanted to know the whole story, if he had questions or concerns or just wanted to bite my head off, the ball was in his court. He knew where I worked, and he knew how to find me if he wanted to talk. Maybe I was being stubborn, but oh well. I was a girl and it was my right to stomp my foot and hold my breath.

I handled two parties for Liz this week and got three orders for cookie trays from the women there so things were looking up in that regard. Aside from the parties, I was keeping fairly busy. During the day, I baked and finished getting things ready at the shop and in the evenings, I bartended and tried not to stare at the door every time someone walked in, hoping it was Carter.

By Thursday I had tested out every single product from Liz’s magic suitcase and decided to hell with men. I was going to marry the Jack Rabbit. We were going to run away together and would be very happy making little tiny Jack Rabbit babies together. That thing was going to have to grow some arms and legs though. After a few years of being married to JR, I was not going to be able to walk anymore. JR would have to carry me to Pleasure Town.

I spent all day Thursday in the kitchen at the shop making white chocolate covered potato chips and baking Snickers Surprise cookies for the party I was doing Saturday night. It would be the last party I would do since the shop was opening next week. Now that I knew what all the fuss was about with these sex toys, I was a little sad to see the parties go. Liz told me I could keep my suitcase of fun though.

I made her sign a waiver that stated that in the event of an emergency or the death of Claire Donna Morgan, she was required to remove the suitcase from the premises within fifteen minutes of said emergency and/or death. It was always a good idea to have a plan like this in place. God forbid your dad or your grandmother got to the scene first and found your stash. You just couldn't allow that to happen. It’s also probably a good idea to have them delete your internet history. No one really needs to wonder why you Googled “turtle having orgasm” or were closely watching an EBay auction of a Jesus candle with a penis.

Don’t judge me. Google is my enemy after a few glasses of wine.

I was under similar contractual obligations to get to Liz and Jim’s house and erase the web history on their computer within fifteen minutes and dispose of any and all pornographic movies in their nightstand, under their bed, on the top shelf of their closet, saved on their DVR, packed in the third box from the left in the garage and in the cupboard in the kitchen where the cutting boards are.

I'm not kidding. She made me a list.

As I dipped a potato chip into the big silver bowl of melted white chocolate, I looked out to the front of the store and smiled. Gavin was lying on his stomach by the windows coloring a picture. When I walked out there a little while ago, he covered it up and told me I wasn't allowed to see it. I held the chip above the bowl to let the excess chocolate drip off and then set it down on the sheet of wax paper next to me just as I heard the door connecting mine and Liz’s store open.

"You can just turn right back around and go back to your side. For the last time, I am not going to tell you on a scale of one to “holy shit” how good my orgasm was last night with the butterfly vibrator."

"Well that sucks. Can I at least watch next time?"

My head jerked up and my mouth hung open at the sound of Carters baritone voice.

Why the fuck am I always talking out of my ass around him? And why the hell is he standing there looking so God dammed hot that I want to mount his face.

"Um, you're dripping," he said.

"I know," I muttered, staring at his lips.

He laughed and I blinked myself back to reality as he pointed at the bowl.

"I meant the bowl is tipped. The chocolate is dripping out."

My head flew down and I muttered profanities as I righted the bowl and used my fingers to wipe the drips off of the lip of the bowl and the counter.

Carter walked over to stand next to me and just like our last few encounters, his close proximity forced my pulse into overdrive.

"I’m sorry I snuck up on you like that. Liz caught me as I was getting out of my car and dragged me into her side so she could hand me my ass,” he explained as I concentrated on wiping up the chocolate and tried to ignore the heat from his body. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by like this. I feel like such a dick that it's taken me this long to talk to you"

I stood there like an idiot, trying not to touch anything since my fingers were full of chocolate. I turned my head to the side and found his face inches from my own. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and I knew I could never be mad at him about this.

"It's okay, believe me. I've had a lot of time to get used to the idea. I'm sorry that it was sprung on you like that out of the blue. I swear that I fully intended to tell you. I don't want you to think I intentionally kept this from you. I planned on telling you from the start. I was just trying to figure out how. And then it all blew up before I could do anything about it," I explained.

I realized right then that I didn't want him to be mad at me. I wanted more than anything for him to be able to handle this and to stick around. Spending the last week going to bed without hearing his voice was sad and depressing. Having him here right now made me realize just how much I missed him.

"We have a lot of things to talk about I guess. You have no idea how many questions are swirling around in my head right now," he said.

I nodded my head and before I could say anything, he changed the subject.

"But for right now, I am in a kitchen with a beautiful woman who has melted chocolate all over her fingers," he said with a smirk.

Before I could grab a towel, he reached over and wrapped his hand around one of my wrists and pulled my hand towards him. I held my breath as he opened his mouth and slid my chocolate coated index finger into his mouth. The pad of my finger slid along the roughness of his tongue as he sucked all of the chocolate off while he slowly pulled my finger back out through his warm, wet lips.

Check please!

"Mommy, I finished coloring my picture!"

The excited yell and pounding footsteps of Gavin as he barreled into the kitchen doused a bucket of cold water all over my vagina. For once, I was glad I had a built-in cock-blocker in the form of a four-year-old. I was one more finger suck away from dropping Carter down on the floor and showing him that I was quite bendy.

Quickly wiping my hands on the apron I wore, I turned away from Carter and bent down to my son's level.

"Can I see your picture now?"

Gavin held it tight to his chest and shook his head no.

"Sorry, Mommy. I maded this picture for the little maggot," he said earnestly.

I heard Carter laugh behind me.

"Um, did you say 'little maggot'?" I asked.

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p'.

"Do I even want to know who you're talking about?"

Gavin pointed behind me to Carter.