The Single Dad and his Soul Mate Read online

  Rebecca James / HEDONIST BOOK 7 / 1

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Matteo

  CHAPTER ONE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWO

  Matteo

  CHAPTER THREE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Matteo

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER SIX

  Matteo

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Matteo

  CHAPTER NINE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TEN

  Matteo

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Matteo

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Matteo

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Matteo

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Matteo

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Matteo

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Matteo

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Matteo

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Matteo

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Flynn

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Matteo

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Flynn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  The Single Dad and his Soulmate

  Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca James

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  Cover Artist: Reese Dante

  Edited by Jenni Lea at Proof Your Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  Prologue

  Matteo

  I arrived at Dante and Isaac’s feeling tired and irritable. Nonna had been difficult throughout dinner. The day had been particularly hot, and Nonna had insisted on sitting on the front porch under the sweltering sun to talk to neighbors and drink lemonade. I’d put an umbrella over Nonna’s chair, but by the time we’d gone inside, I’d been sweating like a horse and had had to take a shower. I think the heat had worn out Nonna too because she wasn’t interested in watching the neighborhood fireworks. After she had gone to bed, I’d been glad to escape for a few hours with my friends.

  Now, dressed in a navy tank top under my leather jacket and a worn pair of jeans, I sauntered across the dark lawn to where my friends lounged on blankets while a couple of them—it looked like Dante and Axel—manned the fireworks. A blast of exploding stars that lit up the sky and the area in front of me quickly followed a screaming whistle.

  I stopped in my tracks.

  The back of the head. The profile.

  I took a deep breath.

  No, it couldn’t be. I was seeing things. Whoever was sitting close to Jeo and Nick could not be who it had looked like in that split second of illumination. I started forward again, only to freeze when another flash lit the sky just as the guy turned to speak to the child sitting on the blanket beside him.

  Holy mother of God. My gut clenched. It was Flynn.

  Questions crowded my brain. What was he doing back in New York? At Dante’s? Why wasn’t he in California where he’d moved seven years ago? Who was the child with him?

  I backed up, tripping over my feet and almost falling in my haste to get away. Focused as everyone was on the fireworks display, no one had spotted me yet, and I wanted to make sure no one did until I could pull myself together.

  Flynn. My Flynn.

  He’d come home.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Flynn

  Three months later

  “You know what your problem is?” Gloria strode into my crystal shop, Flynn’s Stones, and set down the two massive shopping bags she was carrying.

  “Hello to you too,” I said. I gave her a quick once-over before turning back to the display shelves I was cleaning. “Those bags look heavy.”

  “Believe me, they are,” Gloria said. “I’m doing some Christmas shopping before things get crazy.”

  “And decided to stop by and tell me what my problem is?”

  She laughed. Grabbing the stool by the cash register, she plopped down and stretched out her legs. “Lord, these shoes are beautiful, but they hurt! Next time I go shopping, I’m wearing my sneakers. To hell with fashion.”

  Tall, curvy, and dark-skinned, Gloria wore black ankle boots with three-inch heels, distressed designer jeans, a blue Gucci sweater with My Body My Choice on the front in white lettering, one of my shop’s selenite crystal necklaces around her neck, and a pair of one carat diamond studs in her ears. Her short, cropped hair emphasized her high cheekbones, and the Kohl eyeshadow did the same for her sable eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all morning: your problem is, you don’t get out enough.”

  “I have a four-year-old,” I reminded her.

  “Ever heard of a babysitter?”

  “And where would I get one of those?”

  I began carefully replacing the crystal pillars in their places on the shelves.

  “Well, probably lots of places if you actually allowed yourself to make friends, but how about me and Jess? We’d love to watch Coop while you go out dancing.”

  I dropped my head back and groaned. I should have seen that coming. “I don’t want to go to a club.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged.

  The disapproval wafting off my friend was stronger than the ammonia fumes from the glass cleaner I was using. I needed to tell Joey to get the environ-friendly stuff next time.

  “I feel too old to go drinking and dancing,” I mumbled.

  “You’re only thirty-two.”

  “Yes, but I feel sixty-five.”

  Gloria huffed. “Now, see, that right there is just wrong. You should be out enjoying life. When’s the last time you went somewhere without Cooper?”

  “I go to the gym twice a week.”

  “And he goes with you.”

  “There’s a daycare. He’s not with me when I’m working out.”

  Gloria huffed. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s because it was such a long-ass time ago. That buffed up cop was the last guy I remember you dating.”

  She was talking about Tyson. I’d met him at a bar shortly after Coop’s first birthday, and we’d dated a few months. His controlling personality had been too much for me, and I’d ended things with him. He still called me sometimes, but I never answered.

  “I’m too busy to date.”

  “You’ve been acting weird the past few months.”

  I glanced at her over my shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

  Cocking her head to the side, she studied me. “I’ve noticed you’ve been listening to a lot of Adele lately.”

  I froze, the music coming from the sound system suddenly extremely loud in the room.

  Gloria frowned. “Someone Like You, huh? That’s the quintessential break-
up song right there. Hell, that whole album screams ‘I’m pining over somebody and need to cry my eyes out.’ So if it’s not Robo Cop from a few years back, then who is it?”

  Feeling the color rising in my cheeks, I busied myself with tidying the already tidy workspace by the register. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lots of people love Adele.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t listen to her every damn minute of the day. Every time I’ve been at your place the last few months, she’s been wailing in the background, and here you are listening to her at work. Come on. Who is it that’s got you wanting to cry it out?”

  I glanced at the door, wishing for a customer. Of course, nobody came in. With the holidays approaching, we’d been slammed with business, but the minute I needed saving, no one was in sight.

  “Okay,” Gloria said after a couple of uncomfortable beats. “I’ll make you a deal. Explain why all the Adele or agree to go out and have some fun.”

  There was no way I going to explain the reason for my music choices lately. Still, I argued. “I’m a father. I can’t just go out and party.”

  “You do realize being a parent doesn’t mean you have to become a monk, right? Lots of single parents have fun that doesn’t involve a tub of Legos and endless episodes of Ricky Zoom. You are a hot, gay man, Flynn Bishop, and you should be looking for a partner or at least getting your groove on. Hell, if you’ve got any friends other than me and Jess, I don’t know about it.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve got friends,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah? Who?”

  I thought about it. “Nick.” I hadn’t seen much of him, though, since he’d invited me to a barbecue on the Fourth of July that had brought me face to face with my ex. It hadn’t been Nick’s fault, but now that I knew he was dating one of Matteo’s friends, I was wary. “And Joey,” I added.

  “You’re not friends with Joey. He works for you,” Gloria said. “And I haven’t met Nick, so you can’t be very good friends with him either.”

  I knew she was right, so I stopped arguing. I had few friends and no social life since I’d moved back to New York. The only person I saw regularly whom I didn’t work with was my four-year-old son. And that not only wasn’t fair to me, but it also wasn’t fair to Cooper. I needed to meet up with other parents—make play dates for him.

  “If Jess and I didn’t hound you, we’d never see you,” Gloria said, making me feel even more guilty.

  Gloria and her wife ran a realty agency and had helped me find my shop space with the apartment above it when I’d been a mess of stress and anxiety. They had been so good to me, and I’d been a shit friend.

  Because I’d cocooned myself at home. Because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them why I didn’t want to date. Because I was afraid to put myself out there.

  “Sorry. I’ll do better,” I said.

  Gloria’s expression softened. “You’ve had it rough, honey. Anybody would be struggling. But you need a night out. Bring Coop over to our place and go somewhere fun.”

  I knew when I was beaten. “Okay. Thank you for the kind offer.”

  Gloria rolled her eyes. “Like watching that sweetheart would be a hardship. He can spend the night. Jess and I would love that. We’ve got a room all fixed up for him.”

  That surprised me. “You do?”

  “Hell, yeah. Well, it was originally meant for Jess’s nephew when he slept over, but then Monica and her husband moved to Japan to be close to Jess’s parents. So now it’s Cooper’s. It’s got a small bed with the cutest quilt on it that Jess made, and shelves filled with books and toys.”

  I was touched. “How come you never said anything about it to me?”

  Gloria stood from her perch on the stool. “We were just waiting for you to let go, baby. Now, how about Friday night?”

  “This Friday night?” I asked, alarm racing through me. “I’d thought I’d give myself a few weeks to get used to the idea.”

  Gloria laughed. “Oh, no you don’t. Then it would never happen.”

  It couldn’t be healthy for a kid to be smothered by his parent, but the thought of having Cooper away from me for an entire night was disconcerting.

  “I don’t know.”

  Coop came running in from the back room. “Daddy, look at my picture!” He held up a page from his coloring book. “It’s Ricky! So I colored him red.” He noticed Gloria and his face lit up. “Aunt Glo!” He threw himself into her arms, and she squeezed him tightly.

  I took the page from him and held it up for Gloria to admire the carefully colored cartoon motorbike from Coop’s favorite Nick Jr show.

  “That’s a beautiful picture,” she said. “May I have it for my refrigerator?”

  Cooper happily agreed, and after telling Coop how well he’d done staying in the lines, I handed her the page. Just a few months ago, wild animals had consumed my son’s interest, but now motorcycles were everything.

  And wasn’t that ironic? My ex, Matteo, the one I’d been avoiding since moving back here and had run into at the barbecue, belonged to a motorcycle club. Just another way to keep him in my head on the daily. That and my sudden penchant for Adele.

  Gloria knelt on the floor in front of Cooper. “Guess what? Your Daddy said you can spend the night at Jess’s and my house. We can have pizza and dirt pudding!”

  Cooper’s face brightened. “With gummy worms?”

  Gloria nodded.

  Coop turned to look up at me, excitement turning to a look of uncertainty, like he didn’t think I’d be okay with the plan. “Really, Daddy? Tonight?”

  Summoning a smile, I nodded. “Sure. If you want to, that is. But not tonight. Friday night.”

  “Is that soon?”

  “A couple of days away.”

  Cooper bounced up and down on his feet. Due to being born prematurely, he was small for his age but smart as a whip and had the sunniest disposition I’d ever seen in a child. He was also cute as a button, with inky dark hair and big brown eyes—genes he must have inherited from his birth father as his mother was a blue-eyed blonde.

  “I’ll pick you up around five,” Gloria told him, getting to her feet and picking up her shopping bags. “Have your suitcase packed.”

  Cooper’s face fell. “I don’t have a suitcase.” He pronounced it sootcase. God, I loved the kid. He was my life.

  Gloria ruffled his hair and winked at me. “That’s okay. Your dad will come up with something. I’ve got to run. Jess will be so excited when I tell her you’re coming.” She bent and kissed his cheek, then winked at me.

  A man and woman came into the shop as she went out. Coop danced around excitedly, then ran in the back while I waited on the customers. I told myself I could do this. I could let Cooper spend the night with my friends while I went out and attempted to have a good time. God, maybe I’d even get a little action. I hadn’t had sex since Tyson.

  I wondered how many men Matteo had slept with since we’d split. Considering it had been seven years, I figured dozens. Did he have a boyfriend he kept a secret? Or had he married some Catholic girl to make his grandmother happy? Or—and this was the most painful to think about—had he met someone worth coming out for?

  “Okay, Champ,” I called to Cooper after I’d rung up the sale and the customers had left. “Let’s close the shop and go have some lunch. Maybe we can find a Ricky Zoom backpack for you to take to Aunt Glo and Aunt Jess’s Friday.”

  Cooper came running out of the back room and crashed into me, hugging my legs. “I can’t wait!”

  I wished I felt as excited about his overnight adventure as he did.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Matteo

  “What’s going on?” I asked, sitting beside Foghorn on the couch. It appeared I was the last to arrive, the rest of my club brothers already gathered in the clubhouse living room.

  “Well, look who it is,” Tease said to Adam. “What’s his name again? Mack? Mark?”

  Adam laughed, and I was glad to see him so upbeat. Th
e seizures he’d been suffering since being hit on the head a few years ago had sunk him into a depression none of us had known how to pull him out of.

  “Ha, ha,” I said. “I get it; I haven’t been around.”

  “Hell, man, I’m around here more than you’ve been the past few months. What gives?” Dante asked.

  “I’ve been busy.” Sulking. Trying to recover from seeing Flynn after all these years.

  I tried not to squirm as my club brothers studied me and was relieved when Blaze strode into the room and called the meeting to order. Most meetings in MCs were called “church.” I was the reason ours wasn’t. As the result of being raised in a particularly strict Catholic household, I had developed an intense dislike for organized religion. Having to face it all the time living with my grandmother was enough; I didn’t need to be reminded it of it in my club.

  This wasn’t one of our regular meetings though. Blaze had called an emergency gathering, and by the expression on his face, it was about something bad.

  “What’s going on, Bossman?” I asked.

  “Kilbourne got to Mick again,” Blaze said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Our fearless leader was tall and lean with a muscular build and a pair of baby blues that could make a nun’s panties wet. Or a priest’s, as the case may be, although at one time, Blaze had thought himself straight. That was before he’d met Lake, the sharp-tongued blond who’d stolen his heart.

  “He’s in the hospital, and this time it’s pretty bad.”

  My heart sank. The last time, Kilbourne and his pals had left Mick in an alley with broken ribs and bruised kidneys.

  Blaze looked worried. Years ago when he was young and inexperienced, Blaze had been determined to take over the Hedonists in his brother Tim’s place, and as second in command and Tim’s best friend, I’d done my best to make the transition and every decision he’d had to make since then easier for him. But I knew the majority of the stress would always fall on Blaze—more so because he was determined not to let down Tim’s memory.

  “Why won’t that fucker leave Mick the hell alone?” Axel asked. “He’s always got to show how fucking tough he is by beating up twinks. And his fucking club brothers help him do it.”