Love In The Fast Lane Part 30

"Sounds good, Momma. But can I please have an Oreo now? I'm hungry."

Brielle laughed, so grateful that she had her Noah back.

CHAPTER 20.

WHEN NOAH WAS DISCHARGED FROM the hospital that weekend, Brielle made all his favoritesspaghetti bolognaise, mango and banana smoothie and even Oreo fridge tart. He'd eaten with such glee and Brielle was so grateful that he'd regained his appet.i.te. She knew how bad his recent illness was and how close she had come to losing him. The thought made her blood run cold.

"Momma, do the cabarra dance?"

"What dance is that baby?"

"That one with the faces and the hands and things," he explained, licking the dessert off his spoon.

"Oh you mean cabaret?"

"Yes, that one." His eyes shone with excitement.

"Oh baby, momma is so tired."

"Please, Momma," he pleaded as he gave her his puppy-dog eyes, which he knew full well she could not resist.

She sauntered to the CD player and selected the sound track "Good Girl."

Noah loved it when she dressed up and entertained him, so she went to her bedroom and retrieved her fedora.

She slipped off her gown and sat on the couch in her simple silk nightie, her fedora half atop her head and partially covering her face.

The music started and she sang along, tipping her head, popping her hat and doing over the top movements to entertain Noah.

"The dress is Chanel

The shoes YSL

The bag is Dior

Agent Provocateur

My address today, LA by the way

Above Sunset Strip, the hills all the way

My rings are by Webster

It makes the heads twirl."

She hopped off the sofa and held onto the arm, kicking her legs behind her she swished the fedora off her head to swing her blonde hair in a tight ring to mirror the words.

"They all say, 'Darling,

what did you do for those pearls?'"

"What?! I am a good girl."

The beat continued and she danced around the sofa, making ridiculously prominent gestures and popping the fedora in front of her while arching her back. Her steps quickened with the rhythm as she reached Noah and, using him as her dancing prop, she twirled and strutted around him, enjoying his childish giggles and wide smile. The music ended to applause as Brielle looked to her son but the clapping did not originate from him.

She looked behind her to find Nate standing in the doorway, looking very pleased with himself.

"Quite a performance there," he said, a deep grin denting his face.

Instead of being indignant, she took a bow and curtsied. "Why thank you."

"Seems you have a flair for dance entertainment." Still smiling at her, he walked into the room and kissed Noah on the head. "How you doing champ?"

"Strong like an ox, Dad."

"That's my boy. You take it easy now, you hear? No trying to climb mountains or rescuing girls from burning buildings just yet."

"Oh gross, Dad, I'm only five."

"Give it another eight years, your opinion will change."

Was it just her or did he deliberately look at her when he said that?

Another song played in the background, prompting Noah. "Daddy, please dance with momma. This is our favorite song."

Of course to Noah, every song was their favorite when he wanted his way. He nudged Nate off the sofa, leaving him no choice but to take Brielle into his arms.

"We have to oblige the child," he whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer. Was it necessary to oblige him so much? Not like she was complaining. Something about the moment felt so right and it wasn't just the fact that Nate was an amazing dancer as he dipped her and swirled around the room, eliciting more laughs from the five-year-old.

After a few more dips and twirls, they collapsed beside Noah, smothering him with hugs and kisses.

"Dad," Noah began, his expression serious. "Can you stay with us?"

"Tonight buddy? You will have to ask your mom that question."

"No, I mean always. Can you move in? You can sleep with momma, I know she has lots of s.p.a.ce in her bed."

Brielle stared at Noah open mouthed, not sure what to say. She looked to Nate for some help but he was actually looking at her with a question in his eyes.

"Noah," Brielle began. "You can't ask your dad that question. He has his own life and his own house and where would you go for fun sleepovers, huh?"

The boy looked sad. "Will you at least think about it, Dad?"

"Sure buddy."

A week later Nate will still thinking about his conversation with Noah and the sincere sadness in his eyes as he'd wanted him to move in with them and be a family.

But the truth was, that was not the only time Nate had thought about them being a real family. The thought had come to him before Noah had gotten sick. He'd felt an odd stirring in his heart, a feeling that was so foreign to him. He'd only placed it the night he'd stayed with Brielle when Noah had been admitted he was in love. Not just with his son, but with Brielle, too. He was hopelessly in love with his family and dammit, he needed to do something about it. If he came right out and told Brielle how he felt, he knew that she would think he was acting solely in response to Noah's request, but this was so much more than that.

He knew exactly where he needed to go and what he needed to do. He grabbed his jacket and car keys and headed out.

Brielle drove to the Brentwood Hills home to say goodbye. Martha had told her earlier that someone had bought the mansion with cash. The owner had asked for complete confidence and Brielle had no doubt it was some rich celebrity, wanting to buy their privacy and making sure to seal out any leaks. She understood that and usually didn't take offense, although for this home, she really wished she knew who it was. She'd been so h.e.l.l-bent on finding the home the perfect owners, deserving owners like new parents to an adopted baby. And then in a heartbeat, the decision had been taken away from her altogether.

She stepped into the foyer of the home and instead of walking through the ground floor like she usually did, she opted to walk up the curved staircase to the second floor. She walked through the halls, caressing the walls as she stepped into each room, memorizing every detail one last time. She sat in the master bedroom for a good half an hour, enjoying the solitude and peace before she heard the door open and close downstairs. Her heart beat in alarm at the thought that there was someone unknown in the house with her. Had she locked the door? She couldn't remember.

She tiptoed out of the room and peered out over the staircase to see Nate. She tilted her head further only to find his lips locked with Mena's!

What the h.e.l.l! Her anger flared! She actually believed the lying jerk. How foolish could she have been. Through her anger, her fragile heart broke, sad for the girl who'd held on to hope for Nate.

She was just about to stomp downstairs and give him a piece of her mind when she heard his voice, "Mena! What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

"Nate, I love you. We can't leave things like this."

"You destroyed my family, there are no things between us."

"We've known each other too long to walk away from each other." She looked desperate. Still as stunning as her TV and tabloid shots but desperate and a little wild nonetheless. The thought gave Brielle a jealous comfort.

"I don't know you at all if you could lie to the mother of my child about my feelings on our unborn child and then keep that away from me all these years. I told you to stay away from me and my family."

"You aren't a family, Nate. He's your child and she's his mother. Where do you fit in all of this?"

"She has a name, Mena. And she's more than just Noah's mother to me. I don't love you, I never did. If I see you around me or the people I care about again, be sure to expect a restraining order."

"Nate, please," she begged, tears streaming down her face.

"Please go, Mena. You're dead to me."

Nate sounded so cold and Brielle was almost sorry for her until she remembered what the home-wrecker had done. And then all the pity she'd felt evaporated.

Mena left in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

Nate ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath, looking pained.

Brielle descended the stairs. "Wow, what was that all about?"

Nate turned to her, looking surprised and bewildered. "How much of that did you hear?"

"About all of it. Including that kiss."

"She kissed me," he defended. "Well, she tried to."

"I know, I was here." She looked into his emerald eyes. "So, she's out of the picture altogether? For good?"

Nate nodded. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I have keys to the house, Nate. I have been trying to sell it, remember?"

Recognition dawned in his eyes.