Daisy Does It All (Clover Park, Book 2) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series)

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Daisy Does It All (Clover Park, Book 2) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) Page 17

by Kylie Gilmore


  Trav groaned.

  “Our turn.” Daisy leaned down to Trav’s ear. “What do you think?”

  “I think we should bail on Scrabble and sneak back to my place,” he whispered.

  Her face flushed. They couldn’t just bail, could they? Everyone would know what they were up to. And what would they do with Bryce?

  “You’re as naughty as your grandmother,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “She’s worse. King on the K.”

  She’d hoped to form a word as retribution for Jessica’s “fool,” but “witch” and “bitch” weren’t in her letters. Don’t let her get to you. She’s not pure evil; she loves her cat. Probably a spoiled, prissy cat like his owner, but still. She nodded, and Trav added KING.

  Shane and Rico added two letters to spell COT. “We’ve got horrible letters,” Shane explained sheepishly.

  “No, it’s good,” Daisy said. “You’ve got a double word score, and you spelled ‘go’ too.”

  Shane brightened.

  “We did that on purpose,” Rico said.

  Jessica added two letters without consulting Max. OUT. She hid a smile.

  Jessica was messing with her, and Daisy didn’t like it one bit.

  “Shoot,” Maggie said. “You messed up my F. I had the perfect word.” She leered at Jorge.

  “Hmmm….” Jorge whispered something to her and, at her agreement, added DANCE.

  Trav added letters to the D in DANCE: DAD. He smiled proudly at Daisy, and her heart squeezed.

  Several rounds later, Jessica had managed to add LIAR, BOGUS, and SIN. Maggie and Jorge continued their game of seduction that appealed only to them (LIPS, BLOW, HARD) while Daisy and Trav played to win, using both a Q and an X in QUIT and EXIT. Shane stopped playing once Rico nodded off. Bryce slept nearby on his blanket, the noise of the room once again soothing him to sleep faster than the quiet of his bedroom back home.

  Daisy and Trav won.

  “Yes!” Trav stood and raised Daisy’s hand in victory. She smiled.

  Jessica sniffed. “It’s just a stupid game.” She stood and arched her back. “Good night all. It’s been…an evening.” She strode upstairs.

  “We’re a good team,” Trav said.

  “I guess so,” Daisy said, not wanting to admit much more. She was starting to feel more for him, now that they’d been in close quarters these past two days. He was a loving dad. He looked out for his family. Maybe one day he’d let his guard down and she’d see more than the smooth surface.

  “I’ll get Bryce.” Trav carefully lifted the baby from the floor.

  Shane stood. “Night.” He headed upstairs.

  Maggie eyed Max. “How about you pay Jessica a visit? That girl is wound tighter than a polka dot.” She nodded. “The French knot kind,” she added.

  Max’s eyebrows shot up in confusion. “Well, I won’t be seeing her. My heart’s been taken for a long time.”

  “You have a long-lost sweetheart tucked away somewhere?” Maggie asked. “Go to her. Don’t waste time. Life’s too short.”

  Max looked longingly at Daisy. “Good advice, Mrs. O’Hare, thank you.”

  “That’s only good advice if the person isn’t married,” Trav said.

  “Depends if it’s a happy marriage,” Max said.

  “It doesn’t depend on anything,” Trav snapped. “Married means off limits. And what do you mean by happy marriage? You think it’s not a happy marriage? Because I’ll have you know it’s a very happy marriage.”

  Bryce stirred in his arms.

  “Trav,” Daisy whispered, inclining her head toward Bryce.

  Maggie took in the three of them. “Well now, we’d best be getting on home. Thank you for an enjoyable evening.”

  Jorge helped Maggie into her coat, and she smiled fondly at him. The newlyweds left, and then it was just Daisy with the three demanding guys in her life—husband number one, future husband number three, and the little screamer.

  “After I get Bryce upstairs, I’ll check the generator one more time before bed,” Trav said.

  “Okay, I’ll clean up,” Daisy said. She began gathering the bowls and leftover snacks and eyed Max just standing there. “Grab some glasses.”

  She headed for the kitchen and turned on the one light that worked in there. Max deposited the glasses in the sink. She busied herself putting leftover cookies back in the bag.

  “Daze, I really am sorry about the way things ended between us,” Max said in the silence.

  Daisy turned from him and dropped the Dorito crumbs into the garbage. She was tired of his apologies. “You’ve already apologized.”

  “I have a confession.”

  She turned.

  “I did tell someone about us being married. My parents.”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. Her legs felt shaky, and she quickly moved to a chair. “We said we would wait to tell people until I was further along.”

  “I know.” He sat next to her. “I just couldn’t keep something that big from them. They threatened to stop paying tuition if I didn’t get a divorce. I’d have had to quit school and work at some crap job. I was so torn. I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch, but when you weren’t pregnant—”

  “Omigod.” She dropped her head in her hands. “It makes so much sense now.” Her mind reeled from shock to near relief. Max had loved her, just…not enough. They could’ve worked something out even without his parents’ help. It would have been tough, but they could’ve made it work. If only he’d talked to her. But now it was too late.

  “I should never have listened to them,” Max said. “Mrs. O’Hare was right. Life’s too short to waste time. I’ve always loved you, and if you’re not happily married…”

  She raised her head to find Max on one knee. He held up the plastic sparkle ring to her, just like he had all those years ago.

  She gasped.

  “Daisy, will you marry me again?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “No!” Daisy paused, because despite herself, she felt herself weakening toward him, remembering the past, the promises they’d made to each other once upon a time, that they were soul mates meant for life. He’d said he would find her in ten years. He was a little late, but he had found her again. It was his parents that had torn them apart, outside forces, not them. They might have made it. “Give me one good reason why I should divorce my husband and marry you, Max Parker.”

  “I love you. I always have. I always will.” His voice was gruff with emotion. “Please make me the happiest man on earth. Again.” His eyes held hers, and she felt the heartfelt emotion down to her soul.

  And then she remembered real life. Her life. She was a mom now. And, as far as he knew, a wife.

  “Oh, Max. Get up. This would never work. I’ve got Bryce. I’m different.”

  He stayed on bended knee. “I’m not. And I’ll help you raise him. If you’re a little different, that’s okay. I love the new Daisy too.”

  She was so confused. How could she be melting toward two men at the same time? Were her hormones wacky?

  “I’m not getting up until I have an answer,” Max said.

  She sighed. “Goodnight, Max.”

  She turned off the light, leaving him on bended knee in the dark.

  “Still not moving,” Max called. “You’ll find me right here in this spot in the morning.”

  “Trav’ll be through here soon to check the generator out back.”

  She heard him groan.

  “Just think about it,” he said. “I can make you happy.”

  She said nothing. She headed upstairs to get ready for bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep. No more manly demands. They always had strings attached.

  ~ ~ ~

  Daisy realized once she got up to Maggie’s room that Trav hadn’t had any time to move the crib back. Oh, well. Shane seemed to sleep through Bryce’s cries, so it was probably okay. She settled into bed in another of Maggie’s nightgowns, tired of the clothes she’d worn for tw
o days now. Last night she’d worn Maggie’s gown to be unappealing to Trav; tonight she just wanted something warm and comfortable. This had been a never-ending night, and she couldn’t wait to go back to her quiet, peaceful life—not counting Bryce’s regular screaming sessions—in her tiny apartment. Or more likely she’d have to move into Trav’s house. She’d promised to marry him. But was a promise made just to cover up a lie really valid? It just seemed like throwing oil onto a fire.

  Trav walked in, already peeling off his shirt. She’d left the light on the nightstand on and caught a glimpse of golden skin stretched taut over broad shoulders and lean muscle. He even had six-pack abs. Her body reacted instantly, nipples at attention while down-under primed for action. She sat up, already pulling the nightgown up from where it was stuck under her legs.

  His jeans dropped. His briefs tented over an erection, and her throat went dry. Lord, she could use the stress relief. At least that was one thing she could count on from Trav. Keeping things light. No messy emotions. Just their bodies entwined, skin on skin.

  But then he had to ruin it by talking.

  “I don’t like the way Max is looking at you,” Trav said as he approached the bed. “Tell him to back off before his face meets my fist.”

  She dropped the nightgown back in place. “Trav, you won’t lay a finger on him.”

  He slipped under the covers. She felt the welcome warmth of his body and fought the urge to cuddle up against him. She couldn’t let him think it was okay to beat up Max just for looking at her. What if he knew Max had just proposed to her? She lay down and folded her hands on her stomach so she’d keep them to herself.

  Still, it was tough. Her body ached for him. Geez, one hook-up and she was desperate for more. Her libido was ba-aa-ck. And it was fixated on the nearest warm body. She should be glad she shared a room with Trav. What if it was Max in here? Would she sleep with him too?

  “You’re my wife,” he said.

  Her libido whimpered. No party tonight. If that wife comment wasn’t a splash of reality-soaked cold water, she didn’t know what was. Second only to Bryce waking up and wailing.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Daze, it’s happening. You promised.”

  “I know I promised, but do you really want to marry someone who’s forced into it by a promise given under desperate circumstances?”

  He adjusted the pillow under his head. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Nothing’s changed. We should still be together.”

  “Should be. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. You don’t get married because you should, you marry because you want to.”

  He regarded her with the patience of a saint. “Look, I did my part of the deal. It’s your turn.”

  “I’m supposed to commit to you for the rest of my life because it’s my turn?”

  “Yes. Is that so bad?” he asked in a tone of extreme aggravation.

  She was about to reply when she suddenly stopped. “You’re actually getting mad here.”

  “Damn right I am. Stop fucking with my head and marry me.”

  A spark of hope lit up inside her. She turned off the light on the nightstand and scooted closer to him, turning to face him on her side. He slid an arm around her.

  “You’re so romantic,” she teased.

  “I don’t do romantic,” he said flatly. Back to his calm, unshakeable self.

  She peeled his arm off her and lay flat on her back. “Maybe if you tried a little courtship, an actual date, instead of demanding a marriage, things would go better between the two of us.”

  He blew out a noisy breath. “I’m offering you everything. Every cent I have, a house, a stable future for our son. What more do you want from me?”

  A beat passed in silence.

  “People should only get married if they love each other,” she said softly.

  He snorted. “I told you how I feel about love. It’s fiction designed by corporations to make us spend more money. You buy beauty stuff or whatever. Men buy diamonds, flowers, cards, chocolates, dinner; it never ends.”

  “It’s not fiction, it’s real.”

  He exhaled sharply. “You’re waiting for someone to waltz in like a white knight with flowery talk.”

  “It’s called chivalry,” she said stiffly.

  “I know Max is offering you slick promises of a career with his talk shows and commercials.” He propped up on one elbow, and she could see the tightness in his jaw in the moonlight. “Is that what you want? Max? Just tell me.”

  “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t want Max.” She was pretty sure, though he really seemed to love her. Were soul mates forever? Was Max her destiny? Why was everything so complicated?

  “You should sleep on the floor tonight,” she told him.

  “Why?”

  “Because last night isn’t going to be repeated.”

  “We’ll just sleep.”

  She didn’t buy that for a minute. “I need space.”

  She rolled on her side, scooting to the edge of the bed.

  “Too bad. I’ve given you plenty of space, and guess what it got me? Zilch.”

  She peeked over her shoulder at him where he lay on his side, facing her. He looked disgruntled. Some part of her liked that he was showing his true self, not just joking around. Still, he was too demanding. She couldn’t let him walk all over her. No one bossed Daisy Garner around.

  She shoved her pillow between them and rested her head on her arm. He tossed the pillow to the floor.

  “That was my pillow!”

  “Go to sleep.”

  She climbed out of bed and fetched her pillow, then settled on the far edge of the mattress. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close, spooning her from behind.

  He was very happy to see her, apparently.

  She turned and opened her arms to him. “You are a stubborn man.”

  “Yup. And you will be my wife.”

  She threw an arm and leg over him. He wrapped an arm around her.

  “No,” she said.

  He tucked her under his chin. “Yes.”

  “I don’t love you,” she said sleepily. The warmth of his body relaxed her, and she closed her eyes, breathing in his clean scent.

  He patted her back. “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t believe in love,” she murmured. “It’s all run by corporations.”

  He chuckled. “That’s right, wife.”

  They lay in the dark, holding each other. His arm became heavy across her side. She pushed his arm off her and wiggled the nightgown up. She’d managed to get it over her hips when she stopped suddenly as she heard a soft snore.

  He’d fallen asleep.

  She sighed, pushed the nightgown back, and curled up next to him. She couldn’t blame him after their late night last night and all the work he’d done plowing and shoveling, refueling generators, helping at the shelter.

  Still, she was surprisingly disappointed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Trav returned from refueling the generator at his place and Gran’s in the early morning and climbed the stairs to slip back into bed with Daisy. He’d fallen asleep last night out of pure exhaustion, but he wouldn’t mind a little morning action before everyone else woke up.

  He stopped abruptly in the hallway at the sight before him. Max stood in front of Daisy, who wore only a towel, her pale skin rosy from a warm shower. Fury rushed through Trav, and he counted to ten. This asshole couldn’t take a hint. Daisy would never be with Max.

  “Did you think about what I said?” Max asked. His back was to Trav, and Trav stayed silent to hear what the man had to say.

  Daisy’s eyes widened as she saw Trav standing there. She took a step back, away from Max. “Please, Max, this is not the time.”

  Max grabbed her arm. “This is the only time. We’re leaving this morning. I checked in with Ryan. The roads are clear.”

  Daisy wiggled free and took off for the bedroom.

&nb
sp; Max started to follow. Trav clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Looks like it’s time for you to crawl back to that fancy job of yours in the city.”

  Max whirled to face Trav, eyes wide, jaw dropped. “I—”

  “Shut up before I kick your ass for daring to put a hand on my wife,” Trav growled.

  Max jabbed Trav in the chest. “She was once my wife. We’re soul mates. I asked her to marry me again.”

  “Marry you! Soul mates!” Trav sputtered. “That’s shit. You’re full of it! Where’d you get that, a self-help book on what women crave? If you really loved her, you never would’ve left her in the first place.” He shoved him hard. “You had your chance, and you blew it.”

  Max narrowed his eyes. “You wanna take this outside?”

  “I’d wipe the sidewalk with you if it wasn’t for Daisy. For some reason she doesn’t want me to touch your pretty-boy face. She’s too good for you.”

  Max got in his face. “She doesn’t love you, asshole.”

  Trav grabbed Max’s shirt and pushed him away. “You mean she doesn’t love you.”

  “Stop it!” Daisy cried.

  Max and Trav turned to her as one. She stood in the hallway, wearing one of Gran’s flannel nightgowns.

  “What’s with the nightgown?” Trav asked.

  She waved that away. “I had to get dressed quickly.”

  “You loved me once,” Max said. “Do you still, even a little bit?”

  “Tell me you don’t still love this jackass,” Trav said in a low, even voice.

  Daisy turned to Max. “I’ll always have a place in my heart for you. You were my first love. But I’m not in-love with you. Do you understand? You’ll always be special to me.”

  Max’s shoulders sagged. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” He turned to Trav. “You win, man.”

  Damn right.

  “No, he doesn’t win,” Daisy said. “I’m not some prize to fight over. Trav, I love you for loving Bryce. That will never change. But I’m not in love with you either. How could I be? I don’t really know you.”

  It felt like a stab to the heart.

  “You do know me,” Trav protested.

  “I know your jokes, your humor, but I don’t know you.”

 

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