After You (Because of You Book 2)

by Sam Mariano

  Sighing in momentary defeat, I reach my arms out and draw him close. “You didn’t have to move,” I mutter. “There’s no reason to inflict pain upon yourself.”

  “I can handle a little pain,” he assures me. “Only thing I can’t handle is losing you. That’s not a mistake I’m going to make again, no matter how much you fight me, so you might as well wave the white flag now.”

  It’s a tempting thing to believe. It’s not like I want to be right about this, I just can’t afford to be wrong.

  I’m not interested in arguing anymore tonight though, and I like all the things he’s said. Well, some of it made me want to glare at him, but most of it was stuff I liked. Either way, for now at least, I would rather curl up in his arms and enjoy being here with him while I still can.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Friday melts away in a pleasant blur of good food, backyard baseball with Cassidy, and family movie night, as is their pre-Nikki tradition. Derek really does know all the song in Moana, and watching him and Cassidy sing them is easily the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  I manage to get a little work done, but since I’ve already delegated so much this weekend, I’m not constantly stressed and worried about it. I still haven’t caught up on my Dreamcatcher edits, but I haven’t set a release date yet anyway. If I have to release it a week or two later than I planned, so be it.

  Saturday morning Cassidy wants to help me make breakfast. She makes a mess all over the counter whisking the eggs, but she’s so proud of herself for making the eggs, it’s worth the clean-up. Derek is getting around better today, so unfortunately, this is probably my last day here. Once he’s functional, I need to go home and slave away, try to make up for this little impromptu vacation to normalcy.

  I sent Henry a text this morning, apologizing for the phone call yesterday. It wasn’t nice, and it was a moment of weakness. I don’t want to mess with Henry’s head just because Derek makes mine go haywire. That’s my problem, not Henry’s.

  After breakfast, I work for four hours. Cassidy starts to make noise about how hungry she is again, so I decide while I’m being all healthy and shit, I should go for a run. I shut down my laptop and go to Derek’s bedroom. Last night after the movie when I was rooting around in my bag for pajamas, Derek showed me a dresser drawer he emptied out for me. I lifted an eyebrow at him, closed the drawer, and left all my things in my bag.

  Still, it makes me feel good that he cleared out a drawer for me—even if I’m not going to use it.

  Once I have my hair pulled up in a bouncy pony tail, my workout capris on, and my brand new Wonder Woman sports bra on, I head out to the living room to check on Derek before I head out.

  His blue eyes twinkle at the sight of my Wonder Woman bra. “That’s not lingerie. I mean, I’ll still take it, but… I’m going to have to show you what lingerie looks like.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “I know what lingerie looks like. I can’t wear lingering to go for a run.”

  “I mean, you could.”

  I bend down to give him a kiss. “Need anything before I go?”

  Cassidy is lying on the floor behind me. She chimes in with her own needs. “Let’s have some lunch and then play Jenga instead.”

  “We can play a game later,” I tell her, straightening. “Think about what you want for lunch while I’m gone, and after I get back, I’ll take a shower and feed you.”

  “Okay,” she agrees.

  ---

  The later it gets, the more aware I am of my inevitable departure. Last week when I went home, I didn’t feel ready. More time here has not helped. The more time I spend at Derek and Cassidy’s home, the emptier my own house feels. There are no movie nights or family breakfasts. No Jenga, no bedtime stories, and definitely no cuddling in bed and pillow talk.

  There’s no Derek in my life. When I come here, I get to a part of theirs, then when I go back to mine, it feels barren.

  He hasn’t even been back in my life that long, and already he’s carving out a spot for himself and his daughter. The scariest part is how right it all feels. I’m doing my best to put up rules and safety regulations, and instead of treating me like the flight-risk I clearly am, Derek ignores my behavior as much as possible and pretends we’re a normal couple. It’s like the next level of the trick he played on me the first day I woke up here. I wear a gown made of thorns, and Derek holds me close and pretends every healthy dance should result in a little blood.

  The man is trying to lull me into a life with him, and even though I’m onto his tricks, I can’t keep my heart from falling for it. My head knows better, but my heart went barreling after him, bowling him over in its eagerness to get back in his hands.

  Stupid, dumb heart.

  But it feels kind of nice, so I’m trying to ignore the high-risk warnings going off in my brain. I know I should not dread going home. I know that is a bad sign. A neon, flashing sign with alarm bells. He has already dismantled the life I built for myself in his absence, and the sneaky bastard removes another panel every time he thinks I’m not looking.

  Cassidy never got to play Jenga after lunch, so after dinner, Derek points me in the direction of the Jenga game. I dig it out of the closet so he doesn’t have to reach, but when I turn back around, he and Cassidy are both sitting down on the floor.

  “Got down there all by yourself, huh?” I ask, sitting across from them.

  “The pain was almost unbearable,” he assures me.

  I crack a smile. “It was not.”

  “I’m still broken. I’m going to need you to stay another week,” he tells me.

  “I didn’t even bring enough clothes for another week.”

  “I have this innovative machine that cleans clothing. Another one that dries them. There are also stores in driving distance where you could easily buy more.”

  I shake my head at him as I open the Jenga box. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but it does mean I’ll have to be going home.”

  “No,” Cassidy says. “You make yummier dinner than Daddy.”

  “Hey,” Derek objects. “I make good dinner.”

  Laughing a little, I stack the Jenga blocks and set up the tower.

  “But Nikki makes it better,” she tells him earnestly. “She even makes vegetables taste good.”

  Derek nods in consideration. “This is true. I guess it’s settled, Nikki. You have to stay here and make us dinner forever.”

  “Stop before your feminism overwhelms me. I don’t know how much more of this enlightenment my tiny female brain can possibly endure.”

  “All I’m saying is, go make me a sandwich,” he jokes.

  I shake my head at him. “I’m going to destroy you at Jenga, just for that comment.”

  Cassidy starts to say something, but Derek covers her mouth with his hands. “Hold on, squirt, the grown-ups are talking.” Cocking an eyebrow at me, he asks, “If you’re so confident in your Jenga-playing abilities, let’s make it interesting.”

  “What did you have in mind?” I ask.

  “A wager. If you win Jenga, you leave whenever you want.”

  “So, if I win Jenga, I have all the regular freedoms of an average human. Got it.”

  Derek smirks. “But if I win, you have to stay until Wednesday. Then you’ll have been here for a full week.”

  Cassidy breaks free of Derek’s hand to break her silence. “And if I win, you have to move here and play games with us all the time.”

  Derek nods approvingly. “Look at that, my mini-me has good ideas, too. These are our terms.”

  “Jenga sounds like an incredibly high-stakes game,” I inform them. “I was not prepared for this. Also, I get literally nothing if I win. This seems rigged.”

  “How about this?” he asks. “If you win, I’ll stop bitching about your job for two whole weeks.”

  “Yes. I want that if I win.”

  “We’ll go best two out of three,” Derek offers.

  “I appreciate where your terms are coming
from, but they need to be tweaked. If I stay until Wednesday, I’ll be too busy catching up on work to come here at all next weekend. How about we just play Jenga, and I’ll leave tomorrow, and that’s that.”

  “All right, one more day,” Derek counters. “If I win, you stay one more day. That’s only Monday. That’s not so crazy.”

  I do a quick rundown of my work to-do list, but ultimately since I’m dreading going home tomorrow so much myself, I go ahead and nod. “All right, deal.”

  “What’s Monday?” Cassidy asks. “Does Daddy work Monday?”

  “I do,” Derek tells her. “You and Nikki would have half the day all to yourselves. Do you think you could keep Nikki entertained that long?”

  Nodding her head, Cassidy says, “Definitely.”

  “You haven’t won yet, Noble,” I inform Derek.

  “I would like lasagna for dinner Monday night,” he says, with exaggerated arrogance.

  “Daddy is so good at this game,” Cassidy tells me. “He always wins.”

  I don’t bother telling her it’s not hard to beat a five-year-old at Jenga. Derek actually grabs a notebook and keeps score of every block successfully removed so we can determine who wins. Cassidy loses two rounds and Derek and I are neck-and-neck on blocks, but then I go to pull a block, the tower tilts, and I hold my breath.

  It doesn’t fall.

  I smirk at Derek and hold up my block. “One more point for me, Noble. Your turn.”

  The tower is a disaster at this point, and he’s already seen proof of its instability when I nearly knocked it over.

  “How many points do I have?” Cassidy inquires, peering over at the notepad.

  “Not enough,” Derek answers as he eyes up his next move. If he can manage this one, Cassidy’s turn is next. She will definitely knock the tower over and end the game, so he only has to survive this final turn.

  “What’s it gonna be, hot shot?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  “I’m debating,” he tells me, his hand hovering near the tower full of holes. Finally, he picks a brick and starts to nudge it loose.

  The tower topples, small wooden bricks flying everywhere.

  “Dammit!”

  My hands shoot up in the air. “I am victorious!”

  “I think you cheated,” Derek informs me. “I want to challenge this result.”

  “It is impossible that I cheated, you’re just a sore loser who doesn’t get to complain about my job for the next two weeks.”

  “Can I at least complain about it a lot right now to hold me over?”

  I shake my head firmly. “Nope. My reign of victory begins now. Not another word out of you, mister.”

  “I will not be silenced,” he objects.

  “Yes, you will. Those were the terms. Honor them, or else.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he uses his arm to shove the bricks aside so he can prowl over to me on his hands and knees. “Or else, what?”

  I grin, crawling backward on my hands. I don’t make it far before he pounces on me, crushing me to the ground and climbing on top of me. “Or else you’re a rule-breaker,” I tell him, raising an eyebrow severely.

  Sitting on my hips, Derek clutches his heart. “Not a rule-breaker. How would I ever live with myself?”

  “Tickle her, Daddy,” Cassidy calls out.

  “Hey,” I object, looking over at her. “I’m the winner. Winners don’t get tickled.”

  “Cheaters do,” he tells me, before attacking me with his hands.

  “I’m not a cheater,” I object, squealing and trying to wiggle away from his hands. “No tickling! Tickling is the worst! Derek, stop,” I call between bursts of helpless laughter.

  He finally relents and I whack him in the stomach, attempting to lift my hips and unseat him. It doesn’t work, and he smirks at me. “Nice try, hon.”

  “I’m going easy on you because you’re injured,” I tell him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Oh, right,” he says, playing along.

  “Otherwise I’d throw you right off,” I insist.

  “I believe you,” he says, winking theatrically.

  “Remember when we used to play fight in your room?” I ask him.

  “I do. When there were no kids around,” he says pointedly.

  I grin. “I always won.”

  “You definitely always lost,” he disagrees.

  “Didn’t feel like I lost,” I say, smugly.

  Derek smiles and looks over at Cassidy. “Is it your bedtime yet?”

  Her big blue eyes widen. “What? Not even close.” Since Derek has me immobile over here and she is mini-Derek, Cassidy crawls across the floor and lays her head sideways on my stomach.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, curiously.

  “Trying to hear my baby sister.”

  “There’s no baby sister in there,” I assure her.

  “Yeah huh,” she says. “Women have babies in their tummies.”

  “Not all the time. It’s not a birth on-demand situation. There’s a whole process. Trust me, no baby Nobles reside in this womb.”

  Behind her, Derek mouths, “Yet.”

  I shake my head at him. “Between the two of you, it’s like I stumbled into some kind of backwoods raunch novel. Trying to breed me and force me to cook for you.”

  “We’re a sophisticated people,” Derek states.

  “Clearly,” I murmur dryly.

  Cassidy knocks on my stomach. “Aria, can you hear me?”

  I cover my face with my hands. “I can’t handle you two.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Since Derek is feeling better, I figure he will take over Cassidy’s bedtime routine tonight. When it finally is her bedtime, Derek gives her a choice.

  “You want me to put you to bed tonight, or you want Nikki to do it like she has been?”

  “Nikki,” Cassidy decides, pointing at me.

  Derek nods his head. “I see how it is. I’m chopped liver now that there’s a lady option. All right, come give me hugs.”

  “You’re silly, Daddy,” she tells him, jumping on him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “You can put me to bed tomorrow when Nikki goes home.”

  Her words remind me I’m leaving tomorrow, and my mood droops accordingly. It would have been a hassle trying to pull off a Monday while also watching Cassidy by myself, but I almost wish Derek had beat me at Jenga so I’d have a little more playtime.

  Oh well, I’m glad his back is feeling better.

  I take Cassidy to the bathroom to start her bedtime routine to the tunes of Taylor Swift. Cassidy treats me like her personal ladies maid, making me brush and braid her hair, then deciding she doesn’t like that braid and we should try a different one.

  By the time we get to her bedroom to pick out a story, her hair is down like it was when we first entered the bathroom and she’s wearing a sleeping mask on her head like sunglasses.

  I grab the picture book she picked out, glancing through it before starting it. “You know what we could try?” I ask her.

  “What?” she asks, tucking the corner of her blanket around her unicorn so she doesn’t get cold.

  “Would you like me to read you a book without a lot of pictures? Like a short chapter book where I would read you the story, and you could imagine what things look like in your head?”

  “What do you mean?” she asks, cocking her head.

  Setting aside the picture book, I pull out my phone and we look up some short chapter books and leveled reader books. We end up filling my digital cart with quite a few selections. I know Derek and I discussed taking her to a brick and mortar bookstore, but there’s no guarantee these will be in stock, and I have them just right here, a click away…

  I go ahead and buy them. We can always buy different books at the other bookstore. Glancing at Cassidy, I ask, “Do you know your address? I’ll just have them shipped here.”

  “Nope,” she announces cheerfully.

  “Cool. We should probably teach you that
before you start school.”

  “We should get more books about unicorns,” she tells me.

  “Yeah, probably. I’ll have to look into this a little more and see if I can find you some good ones. I know a lot about books, but as it happens, not a lot about middle grade books. I’ll have to expand my horizons a bit.”

  “How come you know so much about books? Because you read a lot?”

  “Well, that, but also because publishing books is what I do for a living.”

  “What does that mean?” she asks, petting her blanket.

  “It means I help take the book from the author’s imagination to the person buying the book. I have a team of authors who write the books, then they send them to me and my team edits the book and makes a pretty cover for it, then we help spread the word that the book will be coming out, and finally, we put it up for sale so people can buy the book and read it.”

  “Wow, that sounds cool.”

  I smile and nod my head. “I think it’s pretty cool.”

  “Why don’t you sell any unicorn books?” she asks me.

  “That is a very good question. My books are for adults, not kids, and usually adults don’t read books about unicorns.”

  Frowning at the disappointing reading habits of adults, she tells me, “Well, when I’m an adult, I’m always gonna read books about unicorns.”

  “If you still want one when you’re an adult, I’ll write you one. How’s that?”