Riding Lil' Red Hard: A Modern Day Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 3)

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Riding Lil' Red Hard: A Modern Day Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 3) Page 50

by Eddie Cleveland


  It’s all going so fast and yet so slow, like a dream, as we get back in the car and Jackson pulls away. As we drive down the street, I look at Sylvia’s house, growing smaller and less significant in the passenger side mirror until we pull around the corner onto the main street and it disappears altogether. I focus my eyes forward. For the first time since that photograph was taken, my eyes are full of hope and once again the possibilities for my life, my new life with Jackson, feel endless.

  27 | Jackson

  “Daddy’s home!” Chloe thumps to the front door, and Ella and I step back inside, jumping up into my arms with an excitement I know I’ll struggle to remember one day when the teen years eventually come to haunt us.

  “Hey, honey.” I give her a big bear hug, careful not to squeeze her too tight as her tiny frame disappears in my folded arms.

  “And Ella’s back too,” she announces as my mother finally catches up to her, smiling at us as we close the door behind us.

  “Hi,” I hear Ella’s soft voice behind me as I place my daughter back down on the floor.

  “That’s something we need to talk about, Chloe. Just give me a second to take my shoes off and we’ll have a little chat, okay?” I muss up her hair, flipping her fiery locks from side to side.

  “Awww, do we have to? I don’t feel like having a talk, Daddy.” She pouts a little.

  “Oh, and what do you feel like doing?” I watch with amusement as her little pout quickly transforms into excitement.

  “What I really want to do is play!” She hops from foot to foot in a little dance.

  “Well, let’s talk first and then we’ll see about playing,” I answer her gently. “Hey, Mom, you already met Ella before.” I nod to the woman I haven’t really explained to my mother yet. “You wanna stay and have tea while we talk with Chloe?”

  “Sure, sure,” Mom agrees, looking from Ella’s face to mine and back again. “I’ll go put on a kettle.” She practically skips away.

  I have a feeling Mom thinks this is going to be a different kind of announcement than it is. Like, the kind you make to your family and friends after you’ve bent down on one knee and slipped a ring on a finger.

  I shake my head and start to walk into the house, but Ella stands still in the entryway, staring.

  “Aren’t you coming?” I tilt my head and watch as I try to make sense of the swirling emotions on her face.

  “Yes, sorry, I just… I guess I just realized this is a home,” she answers cryptically.

  “Um, yes,” I say the word slowly, waiting for her to fill in the blanks. “It’s a house.”

  “No, I know that.” She gives a quick but forced smile. “I mean a home, like this is my new home. The first one I’ve had since, well.” Her words grow too thick to spill from her mouth, choking her up as her eyes water. “These are happy tears,” she explains as she wipes her hands under her eyes.

  “Shhh, it’s all right.” I pull her in and rest my chin on the top of her head. “I understand.” I rub my hand down her back quickly, like I’m trying to sweep the sadness free from her body.

  “I’m good, don’t worry.” Ella steps back and her tears have dried up.

  “Good, let’s go talk to Chloe about all of this. I just want to make sure she understands you’ll be living here now.” I lead her down the hall to the dining room where Mom has prepared a pot of tea, complete with sugar packets and milk. “Wow, thanks for setting this up.” I sit down in my chair and everyone gathers around the table, taking their own seats.

  “Chloe.”

  My daughter is very interested in flicking a sugar packet back and forth and not in what I have to say.

  “Uh-huh?” Flick, flick, flick. She doesn’t bother to look up at me.

  I pour some tea with a sigh. “Honey, can you put that down for a sec? I’d like to tell you something.” I fill my cup and put the pot down, waiting for her to listen.

  “What’s up, Dad?” She smirks at me, plopping the sugar down.

  “Honey, I wanted to let you know that Ella is going to be living with us from now on. When I have to work at night, she’ll be helping to take care of you, understand?”

  I watch as my daughter looks over at my mother and then at Ella. “What about Nana?” Her eyes grow wide. “Isn’t she gonna look after me anymore?” Worry tinges her little voice.

  “Of course I will,” my mother answers for me with a kind smile. “But I’m sure you’re going to have a fantastic time with Ella too.” Mom understands right away what’s going on here and might burst with happiness.

  “I dunno.” Chloe furrows her red eyebrows together. “Ella? Do you like to play pony dolls?” She tries, sizing her up.

  Ella stirs some milk into her tea cup and confusion crosses her tender features. “Pony dolls?” She looks at Chloe for clarification.

  “Yeah, you know, ponies!” Chloe says the word slower, like that will help explain everything. “Like Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity,” she lists off the names on each finger.

  “Oh, do you mean My Little Pony?” I can see her make the connection and Chloe beams.

  “Yup! Pony dolls!”

  “I loved playing with them when I was a kid.” Ella gets surprisingly animated and, for a second, she and my daughter share the same look of wide-eyed joy. It’s hard not to laugh.

  “Dad? Can we be done talking now?”

  “Sure, hon.” I shrug at how nonchalant she is about the whole ‘this new woman is going to be living here’ thing. Little did I know, all this time, anyone could become her best friend forever just by sharing her love of imaginary, talking horses.

  “Great!” She jumps off the chair and runs as fast as she can into the other room. I can hear Chloe digging around through stuff and then huff and puff as she drags something in from the play room.

  As I turn in my chair, I can’t help but laugh as I watch my four-year-old struggle to drag an entire castle that’s probably half her size, crammed full of ponies into the dining room.

  “Let’s play now, Ella,” she exclaims gleefully.

  “Chloe.” I can see she’s not listening to me at all. “Chloe! Hey! How about you just relax a bit and let Ella rest? We just got home and she just sat down,” I try to explain.

  “Is that Twilight Sparkle?” My head snaps around on my neck toward Ella as I do a double take at her question.

  “It is!” Chloe holds out a little purple horse proudly.

  “Oh, she was always my favorite.” Ella stands up and walks over to Chloe.

  “Mine too!” Chloe swirls her arms in wide circles.

  “Well, maybe I can play for a bit.” Ella helps Chloe pick up her toys and walks out of the room with her, leading her back to the play area.

  Chloe leaps like a tiny ballerina after her, barely being able to contain her excitement in her little body. I shake my head and chuckle.

  “Well, it looks like they’ll hit it off just fine.” Mom laughs and I sip my tea.

  “Yeah, that wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” I agree.

  “That’s how you know it was meant to be.” Mom rests her hand on mine. “I see the way you look at her, Jackson. I’m so happy you found love.”

  “Love? I don’t know about that.” I brush off the comment and sit up a little straighter.

  “That’s okay if you don’t know it yet. You will.” She taps my hand with her fingers before taking a long sip of her tea knowingly.

  Love? The word floats through my mind as I think it over for the first time. My shoulders relax, realizing that my mother might just be right. Not that I’m going to share that with her right now. That I may have finally found the woman I’m ready to open my heart to.

  28 | Ella

  “Oh my goodness, I’d eat a third bowl of that soup if I wasn’t so stuffed.” Marie licks her lips and looks down at her empty bowl.

  “It really is delicious.” Jackson smiles over at me.

  “Thank you. I’m so happy you enjoyed it. My grandmother used t
o make it for us all the time.” I fondly remember how she would let me roll up the meatballs after I had carefully washed my hands while she let the broth simmer and got the other ingredients, the rice and vegetables, prepared.

  “Daddy, I like your soup too, the one you make with alphabets in it. But this one is better,” Chloe chimes in as she scoops the last bits of rice from her bowl.

  Jackson and his mother laugh. “Well, that alphabet soup is also an old family recipe,” Marie chuckles.

  “That’s right,” Jackson agrees. “I learned how to open that can and dump the soup in the pot from the best chef in the business,” he teases him mother.

  I try to imagine how my abuela would handle us eating soup from a can, but I have to blink the scowling face free from my mind. I’m pretty sure that just the thought has her spinning in her grave.

  “Well, it’s been so lovely to sit and share this with you.” I stand up and begin to clear the table, but Jackson abruptly pops out of his chair and plucks them from my hand.

  “Relax, you cooked the meal. I’ve got the cleanup.”

  For a second I’m so confused I just stand frozen, like my brain can’t understand the simple words he’s saying. For so long I’ve made all the meals and waited for Raymond and Sylvia to stop complaining about my cooking long enough to eat so I could tidy up after them. I wasn’t permitted to sit at the table with them. Instead, I was allowed to eat leftovers, when there were some, after I had finished my chores for the day.

  “Take a load off, Ella.” Marie nods down to my chair. “You deserve a break.”

  I slowly ease back down onto my seat, but it’s still strange to watch Jackson clear the table. Uneasiness rises inside me, like clouds building before a storm. It’s just difficult to go from such a regimented life where fear was a constant to this. I’m definitely not complaining, it’s just going to take some getting used to.

  Jackson carries a handful of dishes out of the room as I let my muscles unwind and lean back in my chair. I gaze over at his mother, who’s been so incredibly welcoming. Every time I look at her, she’s smiling.

  “At Thanksgiving I’ll cook for you.” She rests her forearms on the table, leaning in toward me. “I can’t wait to make you a big ol’ turkey with all the sides. I’m sure you’ve had a bunch of Thanksgivings here by now, but you wait until you try my cornbread stuffing. I mean, if I’m honest, Jackson makes the turkey and my guests bring most of the sides, but that stuffing is the one dish I know I can knock your socks off with.” She beams.

  “I’ve never had a Thanksgiving meal.” I try to imagine sitting down to such a feast, but that much food seems impossible to eat all in one meal.

  “Really?” Marie tilts her head. “Well then, that’s going to have to change this year.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Nana, can I have my bath now?” Chloe interrupts, clearly bored by our conversation. “I got soup all over my arms and face, so I should probably have a bubble bath… with my dolphin toy!”

  “Oh, sure, honey. I think I can get that set up for you.”

  Jackson comes back into the dining room just as his mother helps Chloe from the table and I stand back up. It’s one thing to sit and relax while there are other people sitting here with me, but there’s no way I’m just going to rest on my butt while Jackson does all the work.

  “Here, let me help.” I grab a bunch of cutlery and glasses and head out to the kitchen before he has a chance to stop me.

  Jackson follows me in with the last of the dirty dishes and I begin to take them from him, piling them beside the sink where I already put mine down. “It won’t take me long to wash up.” I start running the water and pushing the plug down into the drain.

  “Hey, don’t worry about the dishes.” He slides up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and turning off the water with his other hand.

  “It’s no bother. Besides, I don’t want to sponge off of you.” I turn to face him and a flicker of pain flashes over his face like a lightning bolt.

  “Sponge off me? Is that what you think you’re doing? Ella, listen.” He cups my face in his hands. “Just because you’re living here doesn’t mean you have to be cooking and cleaning all the time. I mean, that meal was amazing, but I don’t want you thinking that’s how you have to cook all the time, okay? You’re not my servant, you’re my woman, and I’m not going to kick you out or treat you like shit because you didn’t do the dishes or something.” Anger seeps from his voice about how I’ve been living since I came to this country.

  “I understand,” I whisper. “It’s just going to take some time to get used to this, that’s all.”

  “I get that.” Jackson lifts my jaw and gives me a slow, sensual kiss. My eyelids flutter closed and I sink into him. He steps back from me and slides a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Besides, I have the only dishwasher I need right here.” He pats the silver door under the counter. “I can think of much more exciting things to occupy your time than housework.” He grinds into me shamelessly.

  Heat splashes over my cheeks, my breathing immediately growing shallow with desire. “I’d like to learn what those things are.” I bite my lip.

  “Mmmm, once we have some quiet time I intend to show you.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But right now, I’m going to load up the dishwasher and start getting things put away because I think we should try to have an early night, and with all the things I plan to do to you, that means we’ll have to get to bed right after Chloe drifts off.”

  “Why? Is there something going on tomorrow?”

  “There is, but that’s my surprise for you. So you’ll just have to wait and see.” Jackson steals the questions from my lips with another kiss and I let them flutter away.

  I trust him. If he wants to surprise me with something, I’m sure it will be amazing.

  29 | Jackson

  “Let’s see. We’ve got you all ready for winter now.” I check the bags I’m holding to make sure we’re not missing anything. “You’ve got a coat, gloves, a hat and scarf. There are your new boots.” I shake a bag holding a pair she tried on earlier.

  Ella looks around the Cherry Creek shopping center and then down at the new bags dangling from my hands, worry etched on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No, nothing. But you’ve spent so much money on me. I know I can never repay you and I feel awful about it. You’re holding so much and you’ve already put all those other bags of toiletries and lingerie and shoes in the car. It’s just, it’s all too much.” She tugs at her lip uncertainly. “I don’t deserve all this, Jackson.”

  I wish she could put her hand on my heart and feel what a simple glance at her face does to me. I wish she could understand the surge of happiness she brings me.

  “Ella, you deserve so much more than some clothes and kindness.” I hold out my weighed down arm and she snuggles into me. I wrap her in my hug. The bags hang down her body like a quilt. A patchwork blanket that symbolizes her new beginning, her fresh start, with me.

  “Listen, everyone needs a toothbrush and that other stuff. It’s not your fault that you couldn’t take anything from Sylvia’s house. Not that I’d want you to anyway. I like that you’re cutting out that part of your life and starting with all new things for a new life. And, well, definitely don’t worry about the lingerie, because that’s just as much for me as it is for you,” I murmur in her ear and give her a full-body squeeze.

  Ella gives me a knowing smile. I can’t believe that only a little while ago she was still a virgin. And a shy, nervous virgin at that. Now she seems to want sex just as much as I do. She and I can barely keep our hands off each other, every night stripping each other down as fast as our hands can manage.

  “You’re too good to me.” She stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

  “No, you never should have had it so bad. This is just normal, and I hate that you think normal is good.” My lips tug down as the snippets of her life she’s shared with m
e haunt my thoughts. The idea that she’s been through as much as she has in her twenty-one years is heart-wrenching.

  When Ella finally told me more of the details of her life with Sylvia and Raymond, I had half a mind to go back to their house and burn it down. The way they ordered her around, barely feeding her, making her work all hours of the night and day, it’s deplorable. It infuriates me and I know there’s so much she hasn’t told me yet. When she was explaining to me how she lived in constant fear that they could make everything even worse, she clammed up, clamping her jaw shut no matter how much I tried to pry the meaning of her words from her.

  I know it will take time before I learn everything. Ella has every reason in the world to be hesitant to trust. After her father’s betrayal killed her family and then the beacon of hope that she was supposed to go to in the United States turned her into some kind of modern day Cinderella, it’s amazing that she has any trust left in her heart for anyone.

  “How about we hit up a couple more stores?” I nod to the women’s department store up the hall. “We’ll get you some pants and shirts and stuff like that, all right? Then we’ll head back home.” I drop my arm from around her and start to walk toward the shop.

  Ella stays at my side and tries to grasp onto some of the bags weighing down my hand. “I can carry some of those too,” she offers.

  “Naw, I like how beefed up and manly it makes me look to be slinging them all.” I puff out my chest and throw back my shoulders dramatically as she giggles. “I, uh, don’t know if I’ve mentioned this or not, but I was a Navy SEAL, so I’m pretty tough,” I mock myself and add a little exaggerated swagger to my step as her laughter gets louder. I love making her laugh. It’s impossible for me not to smile when I hear it.

  We round the corner into the store and start riffling through the clothes. Ella picks out some jeans and a few shirts, but her eyes keep wandering over to the dresses. She doesn’t actually move to them. It’s like she’s stopping herself from checking them out for some reason.

 

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