I drop a kiss to her forehead, then step back, breaking the connection. I not only hear but can feel the hitch in Jillian’s breath. I’m not sure if it was the declaration or the kiss that I planted on her that caused it, but that one tiny hitch gives me so much hope I’ll be successful in winning her back. I just have to stay focused and throw a perfect game, so to speak, to win my girl back.
I’ve had one perfect game in my professional career. Not many pitchers ever achieve that milestone, so I don’t take it for granted one bit. Now to channel that determination into winning Jillian back.
“Shall we eat before the food gets cold?” she asks, obviously still shocked from everything that has transpired over the past few minutes.
“Sounds perfect,” I tell her, then call out to the girls. “Pen! Addy! Time to get washed up for dinner.”
I can hear their little feet hitting the floor as they both take off for the little bathroom off the dining room to wash up. I pull out four plates—two adult ones and two character ones for the girls—along with forks for all of us. I carry them to the table as Jillian brings the to-go cartons of food with her. “What would you girls like to drink?” I ask as they take a seat at the table.
“I’ll grab their cups. Would you like anything?” Jillian asks.
“Just a glass of water will be fine, thanks.” I smile at her from across the table. I watch as she turns and walks away . Thank God I’m sitting down and have the table blocking the view of my very tented jeans. There is no hiding the bat in my pants today. My mind briefly wanders to after the girls are in bed. I wonder if I could convince Jillian to let me back into her bed for the night. She looks stressed to the max, and I’m sure an orgasm or five would help her with that. I know damn well it will help me out tonight.
We laugh our way through dinner with the girls. Their antics and silliness are a balm to my soul as I listen to them tell Jillian about our time together. They rat me out on all the things I bought for them at Target yesterday, but she understood me wanting them to have things to just keep at my condo to play with while they are there. No way would I be able to keep them from going crazy at my place without toys to keep them occupied.
With everyone full, I stand and collect the plates and take them to the kitchen. I return to grab the containers of food and Jillian gives me a quizzical look.
“How about you go get the girls in the bath while I clean up and put away the leftovers. Then I’ll come help get them ready for bed. I might have promised them I’d read them five books before bed.”
“They have you wrapped around their little fingers, you know that, right?” she asks, a shit-eating grin filling her kissable lips.
“I’m aware.” I have to keep from leaning forward and capturing her lips with my own in this moment. “I at least shot down taking them to the American Girl store yesterday.”
“I’m glad,” she says, chuckling. “They don’t need another doll or doll accessory right now. Especially not a doll that costs over a hundred dollars. They’re three and four.”
“But they’re my princesses,” I defend.
“You keep that attitude up and they’ll be spoiled brats by the time they’re six. They need limits, Derek,” she says, giving me a pointed look. “You can’t swoop in and hand them everything on a silver platter. They need to learn that you sometimes have to work to get what you want. Daddy can’t always swoop in and buy at that moment.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But they’re still my little princesses and I can spoil them occasionally. Like, say, the week after Thanksgiving,” I reply, giving Jillian my best puppy dog face, I can muster up.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” she says finally.
“That’s all that I ask but think fast, as that’s only a few weeks away and we’ll need to get things booked.”
“Okay,” she says before turning and walking out of the dining room. I finish clearing off the table and head for the kitchen. A few minutes later, I hear the girls laughing as they splash around in the bathtub, usually electing to take a bath together so they can play. We’ve really lucked out that they play so well together. Both are headstrong little girls, just like their momma, not that I would have it any other way. But I’ve got friends whose kids are constantly at each other’s throats, so much that the parents are pulling out their hair, stressed over it all the time. So, I thank my lucky stars my girls are the best of friends.
I quickly rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher, then place the small amount of leftovers into a container and set it in the fridge. Before leaving the kitchen, I open the bottle of wine I picked up for Jillian and pour her a decent glass, taking it with me as I go to find my girls.
“How’s it going in here? Any water still left in the tub?’ I tease the girls. They love to splash, and tonight’s no different as I step in a puddle of water.
“Daddy! Of course there’s water in the tub. How else would we be splashing it and getting clean?” Addison asks me.
I laugh at their antics. “Just checking, since there seems to be a lot of water outside of the tub.”
“Here, this is for you,” I tell Jillian as I hand her the glass of wine.
“Thanks.” Confusion laces her voice.
“Take it and go take a hot, relaxing bath of your own. I’ve got them.”
She looks over at me like I’ve grown a second head, but eventually accepts the glass of wine from my hand and stands to follow my instructions.
“Did you bring this?” she asks, stopping at the doorway and looking over her shoulder at me.
“I did. Figured you could use a glass to relax with tonight,” I tell her before turning back to the girls.
I can see her reflection in the mirror, and watch her out of my peripheral vision as she takes in my words before finally walking off down the hall toward the master bedroom with an en suite bathroom. I’m still convinced it was that en suite bathroom that made her fall in love with this house when we were house-hunting. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great house, but that bathroom was built to be a dream escape. It’s practically a mini spa all on its own.
“Are you both wrinkly enough yet?” I ask the girls about ten minutes later. They both hold up their hands that are, in fact, nice and wrinkly from the amount of time in the water. “Looks like it. Let’s get out.”
I lean over and snag the towels hanging up on the rack. I open one up and wrap it around Penny as she climbs out of the tub, then do the same when Addison clambers out after her a moment later. I help them dry off, making sure to get as much water from their curly hair as I can before following them down the hall and into their room. Jillian has already set out clean undies and pajamas for both of them, so I just help when asked.
Once both are dressed, I take them back into the bathroom where I put my dad skills to the test, spraying their hair with the detangler, and then tackle combing it out. I even manage to get it braided like Jillian does, to keep it from getting super tangled while they sleep.
“Daddy, read this one!” Penny says, shoving a book into my hands once we’re back in their room after hair, vitamins, and brushing of teeth.
“Okay, and what other ones?” I ask them both.
“This one, too, Daddy!” Addison says excitedly. “It’s my favorite one!”
“All right, let’s get tucked into bed and then I’ll start reading.”
I help get them settled in, give them each a kiss and hug, then make sure their blankets are all snug, just the way they like them. I flip off the overhead light, leaving only the lamp that is between their beds on for me to read by. I grab the floor chair-pillow thing we have and lean back against the wall, diving right into the first book in my pile. At first, the girls laugh along as I read, but as I near the end, I realize they’re both quiet. I look over at them as I finish the last page and find them sound asleep. So much for reading five books tonight.
Six
Jillian
I sink into the hot water; the bath bomb I grabbed at the
last second fizzing away as it dissolves in the water. The calming scent from it is helping me relax as I slide down until the water is just under my chin. I rest my head back on the headrest as I close my eyes. I have some music streaming quietly through the Bluetooth speakers that are hardwired in the room. The builder of this house really did think of everything when they built this space.
I crack my eyes open when I hear the pitter-patter of feet down the hall as the girls and Derek make their way into their bedroom to get ready for bed. I’m prepared for my bath to be interrupted but am pleasantly surprised when they never come in here, not even to say goodnight. I enjoy the glass of wine Derek brought me, my first sip of it confirming it’s my favorite kind. He’s been showing me this week that he actually did pay attention to those kinds of details when we were married. Funny how it took a divorce and him moving out for him to start showing me these are things he actually knows.
I still don’t know where things went wrong. He was always very attentive in the early years. The almost-perfect boyfriend, and the attentive husband and father when the girls were first born. But over the years, as more pressure was placed on his shoulders, things started to crack, and he began doing stupid shit that always ended up in the media. They, of course, would spin things to give them the best headlines, no matter how correct it was or wasn’t, never taking into consideration what those headlines were doing to him and his family.
I finish off my wine as the water starts to go cold, so I drain the tub and move to the shower, where I quickly rinse off and wash my hair. Once out, I slather on my favorite lotion before slipping into some comfy pajama pants and a t-shirt. I toss my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and call it good. I’ve got no one to impress, and it isn’t like Derek hasn’t seen me looking like this practically every night for the past six or more years. I make no apologies for being comfortable in my own home at night. If someone doesn’t like it, they can see their way out the door.
I finally wander my way out to see if Derek is still here. I find him in the living room, watching a hockey game on TV. He’s got the volume down low and is sprawled out, looking comfortable. He’s lying on his side, the perfect little spot in front of him I could easily slide into, as I have a thousand times. It makes me long for and miss his arms around me, holding me close to his body. I miss the feel of his warmth as he’d wrap himself around me on the couch or in bed. Always my protector.
Derek must sense my presence and thought process as he looks over at me, then pats the open space in front of him. I know I shouldn’t, but the invitation is just so tempting. I’m relaxed and feeling good after that glass of wine and hot bath, so I give in. I walk around the couch and lie down in front of him, melting into his warmth as his front is flush with my back. There’s no ignoring the hardness of his erection as it presses against my ass.
Once I’m settled in his embrace, his large hand slides along my hip, his fingertips slipping under my top as he brings his hand to rest against my stomach. His touch is like an electrical current that shoots straight to my core. It’s been awhile since we last slept together, and to say I’m missing that intimacy is an understatement. We always had a very healthy sexual relationship. Even after the girls were born, we would find time for each other.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers next to my ear. “I’ve missed you. Tell me what you need from me.”
I can hear the sincerity and desperation in his voice, and a tear slips from my eye at his words. Why did it take all of this for him to want to change? Why wasn’t my asking for it for the year prior to filing for divorce enough to open his eyes to the damage and hurt he was causing our family. I discreetly wipe the tear from my cheek, biting my lower lip to try and keep from full-on crying while he’s here tonight. I don’t need him to see me break down, because once I do, I don’t know that I’ll be able to resist him.
“Baby, talk to me,” he says, rolling me in his arms to face him. He notices another tear that escaped, and quickly wipes it away with his thumb. He kisses my forehead, and that one movement has me melting into him that much more. His tender side coming out in full force tonight, and quickly sucking me in.
“I miss you so much, but how do I know that you’re really going to change? I can’t go back to the way things were. The partying, the reckless behavior, isn’t you, and it isn’t something I want our girls exposed to. They are still young enough to not really know what’s going on, but that’s going to quickly change.”
He cups my face, turning it up until I’m looking him dead in the eyes. “I promise you that I’m done with all of that shit. You, the girls, are my priority. I’d give up baseball if you told me that would get me back here and into this house again. I’d have to figure out how to buy out my contract, but I’d make it happen if that’s what it would take.”
“I don’t want you to quit your job. You have a World Series to win before you can retire,” I tease him a little. He’s come so damn close but hasn’t quite made it to that championship.
“Thank you. As much as it would kill me to quit, I’d do it for you and the girls, and I’m serious about that.”
“You’re not quitting, so stop that nonsense. I’d never ask you to do so, unless it was because of your health or due to an injury. I know that baseball has always been your first love and I’d never ask you to give that up, but, Derek, I can’t go back to the drinking and the partying and the days where those things were more important than being home with your family.”
“So, what do you need from me?” he asks, resting his forehead against mine.
“I really don’t know, besides time and proof. I need to see the change. I need to see you making an effort. I can’t tell you how long that will take, but I just need proof, Derek. I know that the man I fell in love with and depended on for so many years is still in there, and he can come back. I know the weight of the team riding on your shoulders has been a burden to carry, and while you might not have dealt with the stress the best way, I hope that with some changes when the season returns, you can learn how to handle it better and keep your family the priority that we should be, and not become second or third on the list.”
“I can give you time. I might not like it, but I promise you that I will—no, strike that—I. Have. Changed. No more bullshit, no more making you or the girls feel like you’re not my top priority. I can’t change the amount of time I have to dedicate to them, as you well know, but I can control what I do during my off-time. Now, I’m sure I’ll fuck up a time or two, but I promise you that I’m going to put one hundred percent of my efforts into getting you back, and you can mark my words: I will wife you up again.”
“You’re pretty confident about that,” I state, raising my eyebrows at him.
“Call me cocky, but I’m confident in my abilities to wear you down. I’ve done it once and I can do it again. I know all your weak points,” he says, dropping his face into my neck and lightly sucking on the skin right below my ear. My skin immediately puckers with goose bumps from my neck straight down to my toes. An involuntary shiver rakes through my body, and as much as I try and hide the effect he has on me, I can’t hide the fact my entire body is trembling from his touch.
“You are cocky,” I say, laughing as I push at his chest.
“I can show you just how cocky.” He presses his hips against mine, and I feel as his cock pushes against my center. The friction against my clit has me gasping and wanting more. “Let me make you feel good, baby,” he whispers against my skin. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
“Derek,” I moan. My mind is whirling. I want what he’s offering, but I know crossing this line just muddies the water between us.
“Jillian.” He says my name like a caress falling from his lips. “You know how good it feels to come on my tongue or cock. How relaxed you’ll be afterwards. Just let go and let me make you feel, baby.”
He’s good, I’ll give him that. But I also have one hell of a vibrator that can get the job done in
the meantime.
“We can’t, Derek,” I tell him, finding my backbone and slipping out of his embrace.
I knew lying with him on the couch like this was a bad idea. Now we’re both horny and having to use all our strength to keep from ripping each other’s clothes off. It’d be so easy to give in to Derek’s offer. To let him strip my clothes off and bury his face between my legs. I rub them together, trying to find some relief and finding none. Now, I’m sexually frustrated and shaking my head at how I got myself into this situation. Tara and Mariah are going to have a heyday if I ever confess to what happened tonight.
“I think you should go. I can’t do this tonight and I can’t trust myself to be around you much longer before I give in to your offer.” I stand a few feet from him, my arms wrapped around my torso as a form of armor, in an attempt to protect my heart.
“If that’s what you want,” he says, dropping his shoulders and resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward on the couch. His head falls between them as he looks down. In this position, he looks so defeated, and I worry for a split-second that I’ve crushed him. Then I remember I gave him so many chances to change his behavior before I actually filed for divorce, and it wasn’t until it was finalized, he decided to prove to me he was ready to change. Ready to realign his priorities back to what they once were.
“I don’t really know what I want right now, but I can’t be making any rash decisions that are mostly controlled by my libido. As much as I’ve always enjoyed sexy times with you, believe it or not, I don’t need you or any man to make myself come. I’ve got a trusty B.O.B. that can help me with that,” I tell him, and can feel my cheeks flush. I don’t think I’ve ever been bold enough to talk about sex toys with him. He knew I had them; hell, he bought me one once, since he was gone from home so much.
The Perfect Pitch (Indianapolis Lightning Book 1) Page 4
