by Max Henry
Our dreams continue to be this fucking golden carrot, dangling in front of our faces. And we’re the stupid old nag that keeps dragging the wheel around and around trying to catch it.
Like fuck, I’ll give up on it, though. I’ve come too far to backtrack, to quit, to start over.
Choices are limitless, we’re told. But I guess the people spouting that shit haven’t got a criminal record that includes time served inside. Stamp that on your history, and suddenly your choices scatter like ashes on the wind.
I growl at the fucking car again and then focus on the phone in my hand while I flick through to Mike’s number. I need help getting this piece of shit home, and like hell, I’m calling anyone else.
Not when it entails tucking my fucking tail between my legs.
“S’up?” He answers with his no bullshit, straight to the chase style.
“Hey, brother.” I run a free hand over my head. “Thing’s still good for you?”
I suggested he take the manager’s spot with my old crew and fuck me dead, my former boss listened. Mike’s been off the sweat end of a shovel for a year now, and the change of pace did him well.
“Yeah. Not much has changed since we caught up. Same old, same old.” He chuckles. “It’s not why you called, though, eh?”
“Guilty.” My brow furrows, eyes tightly closed. “I need to call up that favour you said you owed me.”
“We’re not burying a body, are we?”
A heavy snort out my nose is the best I can do at his attempt at humour. He knows my past and considering I’ve beaten my fair share of men into the hospital, the taunt isn’t quite as funny as he may have intended. “Nah. You got time to tow a car for me?”
“Where from?”
“Northern Motorway. ‘Bout twenty from mine.”
He sighs; the line rustles as he shifts. “I can be there in half an hour. That okay?”
“I’ll take what you got, man.”
“You need a rope, or you have one?”
Jesus. My man-card is pretty fucking flimsy today. “Nah. I need all that.”
“No worries.”
“Hey,” I state, speaking as I think the issue over. “I’m on my bike. You think you could wrestle up somebody to help you?”
“Yeah. I’m sure Tayn will be happy to come along for the ride.”
“Thanks, man.” I rise from the Armco. “I’ll leave the key tucked under the passenger side of the front spoiler. Fix you up when you get to ours.”
“Zeus,” he says flatly. “It’s a favour, bro. Forget about it.” He covers the mouthpiece and shouts for his son. “See you in an hour.”
The guy disconnects before I get a chance to protest, which is probably a good thing anyway; I have nothing to get him a petrol voucher or beer for the trouble, anyway.
“Fuck.” My curse disappears on the breeze, drowned out by the sound of the passing traffic.
I hate being in this position. There’s nothing that irritates me more than having to rely on others to bail me out. Not when I should be more than capable of looking after myself by now.
Fuck knows, the only thing that holds me together is the woman waiting at home for me, and my baby girl.
Without Belle … Don’t go there, dickhead.
Thinking about what might have been, what could still come—there’s nothing helpful to be found there.
If I want to claw myself out of this shithole, I have to do the same thing I’ve always done.
I got to bury that pain deep and put a lid on it.
Got to be the man.
THREE
Belle
Fingertips massaging the ache from my shoulder, I stand with my head tipped to one side and watch as my 2-Minute Noodles cook on the stove. Letting Sera sleep this late in the afternoon is bound to be an arse tonight when she has me up half the night, but I couldn’t ignore the rumble in my gut any longer.
So, I caved.
I traded half an hour of peace now for twice as long cursing myself tonight.
The steam rises, carrying the tantalising smell of the chicken and corn flavour sachet I just added. My stomach grizzles in complaint, doing its damnedest to convince my throat to take the pain while I eat the food hot.
Not to be. I pour the basic meal into a bowl and set it aside to cool for a few minutes when a familiar rumble fades in from the road.
Daddy’s home.
Abandoning my late lunch, I dash out the front door in the hopes I can flag Zeus down before he parks in the garage. Having Sera’s room adjacent is a shit when she’s asleep during the day, but it works best for having her close to us at night.
My bare feet hit the gravel drive, the prickly stones stinging as I dash into view. Zeus hits the anchors, the bike skidding a channel in the driveway with its back tyre. I gesture madly to the house, hands clasped beside my head in a ridiculous pantomime of a sleeping child.
My man cuts the engine, his helmet off seconds later and discarded on the vacant seat.
Twenty years knowing him, and Zeus can still take my breath away when he walks toward me with such purpose.
“Fuck, I’m glad you’re both okay.” His strong hands rise to cup my face, and I lean into the touch. “I’m sorry, dove.” A heavy sigh escapes his nose.
“It’s okay.” I slip my arms around his firm waist and nestle the side of my head against his chest. “It is what it is.”
The comforting beat of his racing heart assures me how genuine Zeus is with his concern.
He cares as much as I do.
His heart still belongs to us.
“How are we going to get the car home?” I pull back to see his face. “The rescue guy said if it’s there tomorrow, it gets impounded.”
My pulse matches his, and yet it’s for an entirely different reason now. We can’t afford to get the car out if it is locked away. A new alternator will be the least of our worries.
“I’ve got it sorted, babe.” A single sweep of his thumb, the slightest hood of his eyes.
I press on my bare toes to meet his kiss, ignoring the sting of the gravel under my weight. His breath is hot, mingling with my own. I relish the taste of gum on his breath, sliding my hand to his thick neck to reassure him that I’m here, and I’m okay, once again.
He started chewing the pastilles shortly after Sera was born as a way to redirect tension when he’s agitated. Fatherhood may have mellowed my beast, but he still leashes a rage that triggers when those he loves are under threat—no matter how fickle the situation.
Having a daughter only doubled that fierce sense of protection.
“How long has she been down?” Zeus frowns at the house.
I take his hand and lead us toward the open door. “Not long. I was about to eat. You hungry?”
He shakes his head, glancing at the bike. “I had lunch.”
“It’ll be fine.” I tug harder, leading him into our home and past my cooling noodles.
His lips curl up on one side, that mischievous glint in his eye telling me he knows the plan when I head back to shut and lock the front door. It’s not all that often we get time alone while Sera’s asleep during the day.
I’m not going to let it pass by.
“Dove,” he softly says as I direct him to the sofa. “I’ve just got in from work. Give me a second to shower.”
“No.” Hands to his collarbones, I force him to sit. “I’m not wasting any time.”
His palms find my hips as I climb atop his solid lap. “You know I only agree because of this.” He pinches my extra-large T-shirt between two fingers and tugs at it.
“I know.” It is one of his, after all.
Zeus tips his head back to rest on the back of the seat, exposing his muscled neck. Beautiful black locks cascade over his shoulder, and I can’t resist; my fingers comb the lengths.
I’m a sucker for long hair on a man and seeing it on my man? I never stood a chance.
His skin tastes salty with sweat, warm and firm beneath my gentle kisses. Th
e most delicious rumble vibrates in his throat, tickling me as I work my way from his collarbone, up the exposed ridge of his jugular, and to his ear.
“Undress me.”
With a pained groan, he pushes his fingertips beneath the waistband of my leggings. I arch my back, helping him manoeuvre the stretchy fabric over the mound of my arse and down my thighs. Two taps of his palm to my butt, and I do as he wants, stepping off the sofa so he can pull the tight clothing from my feet.
It’s a dance we’ve done hundreds of times before, and still, I never tire of the thrill.
Hands braced to his shoulders, I glance down my T-shirt clad body and watch as he carefully guides my feet free one-by-one. Comfy house clothes and Zeus still manages to make me feel like a princess. Warm, calloused palms caress my calves in turn, and then the outside of my thighs until he lifts the hem of the shirt. I’m lost in the vivid depths of his blue eyes as he nudges it higher.
“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, hands braced on my ribs as he traces the swell of my breasts with his thumbs. “Best part of any day.”
I reach up and slide my hand around the tie that restrains my ponytail, sliding my locks free. Zeus’s gaze hoods, his lips curled in appreciation while I shake the lengths over my shoulders. Any other time of the day and taking my hair out would be yet another routine action, but when he looks at me with such undeniable lust, it becomes something else entirely.
Foreplay. A tease. A taunt to make me let go a little bit more.
He wastes no time removing the T-shirt, quickly following with my bra. I’m seated across his thick thighs in nothing other than my panties, and I still feel overdressed. But not as much as he is.
“Babe,” I say on a sigh.
His gaze lifts to find mine; hands paused in their exploration of my naked form.
One tip of my chin toward his work shirt, and he readjusts his grip to my hips, lifting me from the sofa with him. I’m dropped on the cushion with seeming impatience, his fingers making fast work of his buttons and belt. Mere seconds later, Zeus rewards me with the moment knitted in my mind since he first growled down the line, roadside.
My man. My provider. My rock.
Buck naked.
Thumbs hooked in the sides of my panties, I bite my lip and hitch an eyebrow.
“Dove.” His hand wraps the thick length hanging heavy between his legs.
I slide the cotton down to my ankles and then kick it aside with a flick of my foot. “What are you waiting for?”
The space between us vanishes. Zeus holds his weight on one hand, buried into the seat cushion beside me, his other tangled in my hair while he kisses me with enough force to steal the air from my lungs. We each fight for dominance, his teeth painfully pulling me closer with a brutal grip on my bottom lip, my legs fighting to find purchase wrapped around his waist.
The sofa tips and the giggle that escapes my lips gets cut short with his frustrated growl as he jerks me toward him, forearm wrapped across my lower back.
Zeus enters with one forceful thrust, the desperate desire signalled in the fine pin-prick of his pupils. For a moment, our titles fade, and we’re no longer Mum and Dad, Sera’s parents.
We’re Belle and Zeus.
We’re a love that almost never was but became too strong to deny.
We’re everything that makes my heart happy. Complete. Content.
“Look at me,” Zeus growls, hips thrusting with sharp strokes.
My lips part, his thumb and forefingers pinched under the points of my jaw. I force my eyes to stay open through the climb and meet his gaze.
He doesn’t need to say any more; it’s there in his eyes.
And I fucking feel it to my core, welcoming the rush it provides, welcoming the way our connection doubles my high as I fall apart, heels digging into his back to urge him closer, deeper … more.
Zeus follows, barely able to stop himself from crushing me as he collapses into my arms.
His back shakes, a gentle chuckle sounding from where his head rests on my shoulder. “Hey, baby.” He lifts his head, smiling and still very much inside of me. “How was your day now?”
I grin, rolling my eyes when the first babble of Sera waking cruises down the hallway. “Better.”
One last thrust before he pulls out. “Only better?”
“Do that again later, and I might upgrade the rating.”
He gestures for me to stay where I am, returning a minute later with a warm cloth to help me clean up. A low growl rumbles from his chest as he takes in the sight of me buck-naked, sprawled on the sofa where I wait.
“I’d do it again right now if we weren’t expecting company.”
“We’re what?” I snatch the washcloth from his hand and shove it between my legs before starting the dash for our bathroom. “When?”
“Soon.” He laughs, the sound echoing through the house as he follows toward Sera’s room. “Mike’s dropping the car off.”
Shit. He could have told me that before we started.
At least I locked the door.
FOUR
Zeus
The scene before me is a fucking oxymoron if I ever saw one. The sunrise casts a heavenly glow across the sky, shades of yellow and orange seeping out from behind the fluffy white cloud overhead. A sparrow hops around on the branch of the tree at the end of the driveway, whipping its tail left and right while it titters to another bird I can’t see in the foliage.
I’d call it a perfect morning to be leaning out on our porch with a hot brew in hand, yet there’s one fucking eyesore ruining it all.
The damn Honda.
I glare daggers at the fucking car while I sip my black coffee, hoping the caffeine will give me the clarity I need to figure out some solution for this fucking issue that doesn’t involve cash I don’t have.
The epiphany never comes. An empty cup does instead.
I re-enter the house to find Belle in the kitchen, fixing a mug for herself while Sera lies on her back under the baby-gym in the living room.
“Wondered if that was where you were.” She gives me a warm smile.
Adoration I don’t deserve.
“You’ll need to get going if you want to be at work on time.” Belle spins to swipe a click-seal container of food off the counter. “I made you something for lunch. It’s not much, but it’s better than a Marmite sandwich again, right?”
Fuck. “Thanks, dove.” I take it from her and carry it to the fridge. “I called in for the day off, though.”
“What?” None of the previous warmth remains in her tone. “Why?”
“I need to fix the Honda,” I snap a little blunter than intended.
I turn to find her behind me, arse against the counter with her arms folded high on those milky tits. “You need the hours, Zeus.”
“And you need a working car.”
Her brow furrows, eyes averted to the floor. I know I won’t like what she says next. “I thought I could ask Sharon if she can go without hers until the weekend.”
Take a deep breath. My gaze fixes to the incomplete renovations in the adjacent living room before falling to where Sera lies on the floor, oblivious to the tension in the nearby kitchen.
“No.”
Belle’s eyes widen.
“You aren’t asking her.” There’s no way in hell I’m letting Belle admit to her old man that I can’t take care of his girl.
Not after the shit I went through to get her.
“For God’s sake, Zeus,” Belle hollers after me, stalling my path to the bedroom to get garage clothes on. “Set your pride aside and admit we need the help!”
Knuckles tight, I turn and address her in the most level tone I can manage. “My pride is all I have left.”
“Is it worth this, though?” She throws her arms wide, indicating our barren cupboards and incomplete redecorating.
“You want me to give up the one damn thing I have that makes me feel as though I’m worth something?” I growl. “If I admit I can’t take care
of you and Sera, then what? Huh? You want that kind of pressure again?”
Nostrils flaring, she takes two measured steps toward me. “It has to be easier than what we deal with now, don’t you think?”
“No.” I search her tear-rimmed gaze. “And if you think I’d rather quit and call defeat, then you still don’t know me all that well.”
She turns away, our baby girl grizzling as the unrest pollutes the air. I breeze past the girl I’d do anything to keep and head for the one I couldn’t bear to fail.
Confused eyebrows and chubby, grabby hands greet me when I lean down to scoop Sera off the floor. She has Belle’s brown hair and my blue eyes. A combination that sounds dull to most, but one that creates nothing but a stunning masterpiece, in my opinion.
“Hey, girl. You had breakfast?” I tickle her under the chin, earning a smile as she tries to duck her head away.
“Yes,” Belle snaps on her way back to the abandoned coffee mug. “But it wasn’t enough.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t enough?”
“I mean,” she grates out through a stiff jaw. “I’m not producing enough to fill her anymore, Zeus.”
I glance again at the weight in my arms and cede that our girl has been growing quite fast lately. “What does that mean, then? Do you want to introduce solids?”
Belle sighs, one hand plastered to the counter while she hovers the brew under her lips with the other. “I have. She has one meal a day, but I can’t fill in the gaps until she adjusts.” Her eyes close, same as Sera’s. “She’ll need formula.”
Goddamnit. Stifling the groan that aches to be set free, I nestle Sera into my left pec and head for Belle. “How long have we got?”
Belle tugs the collar of her sweater from her body, snapping her head back to peer down at her breasts. “Oh, gee. The gauge is broken. I’m not sure.”
“Cut the lip,” I growl, startling my baby girl. “Your best estimate. Can you feed her for another week? Two?”
“I don’t know!”
Belle leaves me in the wake of her storm, making a beeline for the bedroom with her coffee. The slam of our door echoes soon after.
I’m being unfair—I know it. She can’t be expected to know what her body will produce day-to-day, and especially on the shit I know she eats. My issue isn’t that our baby will go off the tit, it’s that we can’t afford the alternative. Those tins are powdered gold. What we’d spend on one of them could feed Belle and me for two days solid.
