Chapter 14: Excuses

"Is that who I think it is?" Rachel whispers, dragging my thoughts from the gutter where they have been residing for the past forty minutes since he stepped in here. Ryan is talking to his business partners at the far end of my shop. Ash is on his lap, playing with his phone. This is a bad idea. Not Ash spending time with Ryan, even if I haven't told him Ryan is his father yet. Not Ryan holding Ash through his meetings without letting go. Letting Ryan have these meetings in my shop is THE bad idea. I can't concentrate. I can't bake. I can't do anything without staring abashedly at him. It's like there is a force that keeps pulling my gaze towards that direction. "What? Who?" I ask, feigning seriousness as I shove a customer's order into the paper bag. "I'm pretty sure that—" Rachel says, pointing over to where Ryan is sitting, "—hunk sitting over there, is Ryan Holden!" Her voice drops low at the mention of his name, but it doesn't stop me from jumping in alarm and placing my index finger to my lips. "Quiet, Rach!" Rachel mimes a zip atop her lips, but she looks back at the table, smiling faintly. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was Ash's father. Look at Ash. He looks so happy. Oddly enough, I'd say they look alike." I keep my eyes glued to the pastry I'm packaging, until Rachel goes into the store behind the bakery to take stock. See? Bad idea. Surely, if Rachel can recognize him, then it won't be long before Vermont realizes this. The paparazzi will be storming my shop soon, demanding answers. I can't even deal right now, but it is my fault. I hadn't even thought it through when he had brought up suggestions on how he could be in Ash's life, before I decide to spill the beans to Ash. I had been too busy trailing his strong facial features with my gaze to listen to the actual words he had been saying. It annoys me, the attraction I feel towards him still. It doesn't matter how much I scowl or tell myself that he's only doing this because of Ash. My heart won't stop racing when he's around. It won't stop skipping beats when we accidentally touch. "Amber." My heart slams in my chest and I stifle a yelp when I find him standing in front of the counter. "What?" I snap, taking in slow breaths to calm my raging heart. "Mommy," Ash coos. "Ice-cream. Ryan promised to buy me ice-cream." My lips tug down. "But I already promised to get it for you, my love," I say, tussling his hair and he makes a face at me, leaning out of my reach. "You forget every time, Mommy!" My cheeks flame and I look up to find Ryan smiling. I'm sure my face had turned redder than it was a few seconds ago. "I'd like to take him to the park tomorrow." "No," I decline immediately. Ryan frowns. "Why?" I shrug, using my pen knife to cut through the melded paper bag in my grasp. "He gets cold easily. I don't want him exposed to this weather." I already told him this three days ago in his office when he asked me to fill him in on every single detail concerning his son. It would seem I'm not the only one forgetting things. Ryan makes a point of looking out the door. "The weather is nice today and—" "No," I repeat, finality stark in my tone. Ryan lowers Ash to the ground, letting him walk back to his favourite spot under the biggest table in the bakery, with his toys and drawing notes. Once Ash is out of sight, Ryan grabs my hand, causing the pen knife to fall from Mt grasp. His fist is ironclad around my wrist but it doesn't hurt. I just can't dislodge my hand from his. "Let go," I say under my breath, looking around to see if we are being watched. And of course, we are. My seated customers are tossing looks our way. His clients are looking in our direction as well. "Really? The weather? It's summer, Amber, and the sun's hot enough to fry scrambled eggs. What is your problem?" I try yanking my hand from his grip again. "Nothing, and get your hand off me. Ash may be yours, but not me. Don't touch me." He blinks and lets go. "Why does everything have to be difficult with you? I want to spend time with him. Is that such a crime? We spoke about this. You said you would stay out of it and let me spend time with him. Shall I stop holding you up to your words now, Amber?" Rubbing my wrist, I glare. "You can't take him to the park. You promised to stay the fuck away from prying eyes. You think you're invisible or something? It'll take about half an hour before whatever pictures get taken go viral. No. No park. You want to spend time with him, do it somewhere private." Ryan's lips form a thin line. "May I take him home with me?" "No," I blurt yet again. Ryan growls in frustration. "What other excuse have you for me now?" I bite on my lower lip nervously as I think of a lie. "It's...ah...your home is pretty far. I'll get stuck in traffic while coming to pick him up." He eyes me. "You don't even know where I live, Amber, and there's no traffic." "Why? You work with traffic control now?" I quip, dropping the last donut into the paper bag. "We'll have dinner at your place then." I look up, surprised. "What? Why? No." He merely glances at his watch and exchanges glances with his clients who begin to inch out the door. "I'll be there by 7. I have something important to attend to," he says coolly before joining his clients outside the bakery.