The next morning, Omar slapped on his wristband, took up his tennis racket and went to meet Willem on the tennis court. He really needed to blow some steam. And the court was the best place to do that.

He had gotten absolutely no sleep last night. The thought of becoming a dad had a way up fucking up a man's mind – in both a good and bad way. Especially when the news came falling out of the sky by a total stranger. It was like getting hit in the chest with a bazooka.

Bam!

He envisioned The Joker standing over his shredded heart with his signature ominous grin. "Congratulations motherfucker, the woman whom you did not know and had only slept with once is going to have your baby. And oh, she's about five months along, buddy. Just so you know."

Xiomara deserved a gold medal for duping him the way she had. He remembered asking her if she was on the pill. Her response had been a moan-like yes, but a yes nonetheless. It was like history repeating itself all over again. Women and their lies. Damn deceivers.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped up onto the court and gave his body a shake in preparation for his warm up session. The early morning sun warmed his skin as he lifted his arms up above his head and back out to his side. He couldn't ask Xiomara to get rid of the baby now, could he?

Okay, he was a piece of shit for even thinking about it. That was his baby too, growing inside of her... fuck! He clenched his jaw and pushed harder, bending his torso over to touch his toes.

His feelings were a mix of fear and elation. Fear, because babies were uncharted territory. He'd never even held one. Elation, because he'd always wanted children of his own...someday, in the distant future.

The sound of feet running nearby registered and he looked up. Willem came jogging through the fence that surrounded the tennis court and stopped next to him. The guy had a big grin on his face. One that Omar didn't see often. It was the same type of grin Willem got when a million dollar deal had gone through, and then some.

"You and your wife been busy?" Omar asked.

Again that grin, but now accompanied by a slow nod. "She's amazing, man."

"Don't know why you kept her a secret all those years. Eleven years to be exact. That's messed up." Omar shook his head and continued stretching, moving his shoulders in a circular motion while he cranked his neck from side to side.

Willem moved into his direct sight, the guy's demeanor going from relaxed to defensive. "The same way you kept the fact that you fucked Xiomara a secret?"

"What? Nah, it's not–"

"We had a great fuck she said. Her words. Not mine." Willem flipped his racket in the air and caught it, his eyes slanting with mischief.

Omar stopped in the middle of a stretch to run his hands over his scalp. "She told you that?"

"Yes, but I'm more interested in why you didn't tell me."

"It was a one time thing. I didn't see it going anywhere. At least not after she kicked me out of her bed and I called her a conniving gold digger." Kicking his racket further to the side, Omar resumed his stretch by touching his hands to his knees and then his toes alternatively.

"Whoa! Why in the world would you call her that?" The guy's tone was raw enough to tell Omar that he had probably messed up big time.

Omar shrugged. "Well, that whole kissing you her first day on the job episode. And then sleeping with me two weeks later. I don't know, but that reeks of desperation to me. We both know she doesn't come from money. Why else would she be so quick on doing us?"

"Doing us?" Willem shook his head and looked behind him in suspicion, perhaps double checking to make certain that his wife was out of earshot. "She didn't do me. Get your stories straight."

"Whatever. You get my point."

"You know, between us, I'm the one swimming and floating in cash, and it never occurred to me that she might be after my money. She was just really happy that I gave her a job. And because she's a sensual woman, she reacted the only way she knew how. I think you're projecting your feelings for Natalya unto Xiomara. Not all of the women out there are out to get you, bro."

"I know that. Don't you think I know that?" Omar scratched his chin. He really needed to shave.

"Look, all I know is that a gold digger wouldn't have waited this long to tell you that she's pregnant. A gold digger would have showed up at your door, pregnancy test in hand, claiming that she's forty-eight hours pregnant with your child. And the threats to take you to court and make you pay, would be endless."

Omar took a deep breath and swiped his hand over his face, his thumb and index finger locking around his chin. The guy had a point, true, but he had learned the hard way to listen to his instinct. The last time that inner psychic voice had told him something was off with his girlfriend, he'd ignored it. And then that same girlfriend turned out to be a conniving, money hungry, suicidal fiend.

"Shit! It's just ... there's something about her I don't trust. What did you find out from that research you did on her?"

There was a slight hesitation before Willem spoke. "She was fired from The Alcove for supposedly stealing an expensive bracelet from a guest."

Well damn. The woman was full of surprises. A trickster and a thief. What in the world had he gotten himself into? He had a feeling there was even more to her - and not in good way. Damn Latinas. "I told you not to trust her. From day one, I told you."

"I don't believe she stole it."

"Just because she's telling you stories about her sex life, doesn't mean she's not lying. And since when did the two of you become the best of friends? It's inappropriate. I saw the way she flung herself at you." Man, oh man. He was so fucking jealous. How irrational was that when the woman wasn't his to be jealous about in the first place. 

Willem's grey eyes darkened and focused on him. "I'm a married man. And the only woman I'm interested in is my wife."

Omar laughed and picked up his racket. He was more than ready to slam some balls. No, not those kind of balls. Tennis balls. "You're full of shit, Willem. You hid this woman for a decade and now you want to walk around like you're a fucking saint. Don't fool yourself, bro. One or two women is still considered cheating."

"Stay out of my marriage, Omar - it's complicated enough as it is - and I won't acknowledge the fact that you knocked up Xiomara the first time y'all had sex."

"That–"

"No no, let me talk." Willem held a finger up in the air. "If I'm not mistaken, you also had a pregnancy scare with Natalya a couple of weeks after you met her.  What is it with you and–"

Omar squared off on the guy, his free hand fisted at his side. "Lets play ball aight? Otherwise I might have to give in to my need to punch you in the damn face."

Willem nodded and strolled away from him. Omar really wanted to hit the guy across the head with his racket, but aggression wasn't his cup of tea. He may come across as a deadly version of the Hulk, but on the inside, he was more like Simba from the Lion King. A lion with a gentle soul.

Until of course, he had to learn the hard way that evil existed and that he had to stand up for himself, because at the end of the day, he was still the king of the jungle.

Just as Willem took up position behind the baseline, Omar yelled out. "I'm serving."

Without hesitation he took up a flashy yellow ball from the basket hanging from a pole nearby, took up position behind the baseline between the center mark and the right serviceline, and then with a toss of the ball, served the first ball into the left service box on the other side of the net. And of course, Willem who had been way off back and to the right of the court, didn't make it in time to hit the ball back over the net.

Ignoring Willem's death stare, he set the pace for the rest of the game by first moving to the other side of the service line. This time Willem didn't fail to return the ball. Hard and swift. Just how Omar wanted to play right now.

After what felt like an hour of intense sweating, both men got off the court. Omar was on his way to the kitchen to get some food when Willem stopped him.

"Talk to your woman, Omar. It's the only way to fix this. And show her some damn respect. She's carrying your child after all. Don't be like me. Don't hold back. Tell her what your intentions are from the start, be it good or bad. There's nothing worse than giving a woman false hope."

His woman? Really? He was not even going to go there.

Taking off his wristband, he bunched it in his fist. "Thanks, man. I appreciate your concern, but I'll take from here. When you made your decisions regarding Amelia, you didn't see it fit to talk or get advice from anyone. I'll do the same for me and Xiomara."

Willem nodded. "Seems fair."

They both walked away in different directions.

As soon as Omar stepped up on the side porch leading to the kitchen, the sweet scent of cinnamon rolls, lemons and coffee hit his nostrils. His stomach growled. A small part of him hoped it wasn't Francois standing behind the counter.

Following the scent of food in the air, he found Xiomara sitting casually on a bar stool, her short legs escaping a pair of shorts.

His cock stirred, going all I'm-awake in his pants.

At the sight of him, Xiomara quickly put her phone away by placing it face down on the counter. "Hi, stranger. Are you hungry?"

He sure was, but not just for food. The only thing he wanted to eat right now was out of his reach. Coming up next to her, he spun her stool around so that she was no longer facing the bar. She let out a small wail and reached out to touch his chest for support. Although his shirt was still damp with sweat, she didn't remove her hands.

Her eyes drifted down to his lap where his sweatpants didn't do anything to disguise his obvious arousal. She licked her lips and kept on staring.

Omar tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You're carrying my child. I would like to think that we are way pass being strangers." The sound of her breath getting caught in her throat caused to him to step in closer as he covered her hand on his chest with his.

She smiled up at him. "So what are we now? Acquaintances?"

"I don't see the need to put a label on it. We just are. For now."

"For now?" One silky brow lifted in inquiry, and then her rose colored lips quivered between a smile and and frown. Good lord. If she only knew how bad he wanted to kiss her.

"Yes, for now."

"Says the guy who doesn't do girlfriends." Xiomara hopped off from the stool, her small curvy body sliding down the front of his torso. Now it was his turn to hold his breath in. He followed her with his eyes until she was standing behind the counter.

Today she had her hair up in a high ponytail so that the short hairs at her temple and behind her neck stuck out and curled around her head. All he could think about was touching his lips to her gorgeous skin.

"That's right. I'm glad you remembered that," he said, still massively distracted by her beauty.

"How could I not? It's an asshole statement." She rolled her eyes at him, and kept putting all kinds of savory baked goods onto a plate.

Damn, she was a savage. And he liked that ... a lot. A smile tugged the corners of his lips. There was nothing pretentious or remotely fake about her. She came at him straight. No bullshit. And she had gotten him to smile so many times already, and they had known each other for the equivalent of like four days.

"You sound like you've met quite a few assholes in your lifetime."

"That's about right. And you're without a doubt, the biggest one yet." With a swish of her ponytail, she sent the plate of food careening over the counter. It stopped right at his elbow and he lifted his head to look at her.

"I always knew you were uncivilized," he said.

"And you need to take a chill pill. There's no need to be so damn serious all the time. That is called a trick. Did you see how I spun the plate around at least three times without spilling any food? I was showing off a new skill I learned from Francois, not trying to disrespect you."

If this was still the fifteenth century, he would have bent her over his lap and spank her butt until it was sore. And then he would have kissed every square inch of her inflamed skin before making love to her all night long. But the twenty first century required something a little more sophisticated. Whatever that meant.

"Nice trick," he said, "but why don't we take your tricks to the bedroom instead, huh?"

Xiomara coughed. "No, not doing that. Did you even get any sleep last night? You look like something the cat might drag in."

"Well, thanks to you, I did not get a wink of sleep. Was too busy thinking about becoming a father."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Donut and I slept through the entire night."

"Who's donut?"

"Your son, silly." She scrunched up her nose at him.

"You're calling our son Donut?"

"Don't look so shocked. It's an endearment, I've been craving donuts ever since I got here. So I named him after his favorite food."

"And you couldn't come up with something manlier related to that?"

"Donut is manly."

Omar nodded and stared at a donut on his plate. He was not going to eat that.

"Are you going to eat that?" Xiomara asked.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Your response to my following proposition."

*****

Ansel Elgort - Thief

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