Ivory's Addiction

by Teirney Medeiros

  Ivory let go of Jenny, who propped herself up against the door. She took the kicking baby from Jax, held her close, and smelled her bottom. “Poo. Grab a diaper from her diaper bag we brought with us.”

  Jax unloaded the pack he carried on his shoulder, the offensive pink thing a hell of a lot different and about fifty pounds lighter than the pack he carried on missions. “Here you go,” he said, passing the white tissue-paper-like thing over to her.

  She laid Ashley back on the changing table set up in the room and unclipped the clothing she wore. Jax took shallow breaths through his nose as the smell invaded the room. “That’s awful. What do you feed her?”

  “Baby food, a bottle.”

  Jax took notes as Ivory methodically removed the dirty diaper, used the wipes to clean Ashley up, and then refastened the clean diaper to Ashley’s wriggling body. She was dressed and happy again in less than five minutes.

  “Are women born instinctively knowing how to do that?” Jax asked.

  Ivory picked up Ashley, held her close, and inhaled against her head. “Mmm. Baby shampoo. I love it,” she said, dropping the soiled diaper into the trash can. “And no, women have to learn just as men do, but I’ve been doing social work long enough to take care of a diaper or two.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, the muscles there tense. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready to do that. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever be ready to have Ashley living in his home. For even a month. Panic rose in his gut, a foreign sensation that rendered him speechless, immobile. He would have to take care of Ashley. A baby. Someone completely dependent on him.

  His heart raced, and his throat constricted. Oh, shit. I went and got myself in a doozey, he thought. His head seemed too light and he reached a hand out to steady himself. Ashley giggled, as did Ivory. Jenny said, “I think he just got hit with a severe case of the butterflies.”

  “Come on, Jax. Let’s get Ashley home so Jenny can go rest,” Ivory said, toting the baby on her hip. Jenny followed her out, their voices echoing.

  “Did you get a car seat?” Jenny asked.

  “Yes, Mama Bear.”

  “All right, Cha-Cha. I’m going to die then.”

  Jax, on unsteady legs, followed Ivory to the foyer where she dressed Ashley in the warm coat they’d bought her and the little socks and shoes. He watched her, the baby smiling under her gentle hands. Oh, God. He entered a No Trespassing zone, a place he’d forbade himself to go. A place where a woman and a child could worm their way past his area of operation, his defenses. His heart.

  Fuck.

  * * * *

  Ivory buckled Ashley into the car seat they’d bought her, with a dangling mini-mouse for the baby to play with while they rode back to Jax’s house. She fell asleep the moment the car started moving. Jenny gave her instructions to feed Ashley every four hours, due to her weight. Then, every six once she started gaining.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off Ashley, her little eyelashes lying against her cherry cheeks. Ivory snuck a glance at Jax’s odometer. The speed limit was fifty, and he was doing thirty-five. “Jax. You can go a little faster.”

  “No.”

  “On Monday, I’ll bring by the paperwork for you to sign, saying you accept custody of Ashley. She’ll take your last name?”

  Jax shrugged. “Sure.”

  Ivory thought he’d gone pale beneath his tan but couldn’t really tell, considering he wouldn’t look at her. He’d started acting strange ever since they’d left Heron House. Ashley started crying, and Ivory knelt on the seat and hoped she could get Ashley to settle down. The cries obviously made Jax even more nervous because his speed dropped even lower. Ashley frightened the big soldier man.

  “She’s fine,” she assured Jax, and he sped up to forty.

  Ashley drifted back to sleep, her little mouth working like she sucked on a bottle. Ivory smacked herself in the fore head. They didn’t have a binky. “Binky.”

  Jax swung his head around. “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a pacifier.”

  “I bought one of those, didn’t I?”

  She laid a hand on his forearm. The steel bands beneath his skin flexed as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “Yes. I just forgot to put it in the diaper bag.”

  He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “And I thought pulling the trigger was hard.”

  Ivory let the comment slide, but when they got to his house, unloaded the car seat, and settled Ashley into her crib, Ivory placed a baby monitor next to the crib and ushered Jax downstairs.

  “Talk.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  “You’re terrified.”

  Jax rolled his shoulders. “Yes, I’m terrified. I’ve never had a baby in my house, let alone took care of one.”

  “Single mothers figure it out every day, all over the world. You’ll do fine. Besides, if you have any trouble, you have my card.”

  Jax sank onto his couch. “You’re not leaving me here alone with her.”

  “You’ve got to do it sometime, Jax,” she said. “I’ll leave you a note with detailed instructions, but I’m not staying the night here.”

  “Isn’t it supposed to be some part of your work to observe me with Ashley before you declare me a safe prospect?”

  Ivory’s eyes widened. The man knew about her work, about a lot of things. “Yes, but I’ve observed you with her and I think you’ll do fine, and under my expert tutelage, you’ll be a great dad.”

  “Uncle.”

  “Dad.”

  “Uncle,” he growled. “Ashley will call me uncle.”

  “Okay, Uncle Jax,” she said. The baby monitor crackled, and soft cries filtered over the speaker. “Here’s your chance to show me what you’re made of.”

  Ivory followed Jax up the stairs, admiring the way his muscles bunched and contracted beneath the worn cotton of his jeans. The closer they got to the top of the stairs, the louder Ashley’s cries became.

  “What do I do?” he asked, his tone militaristic, all business.

  Ivory would have giggled at his serious expression if the situation didn’t call for her maturity and experience. “Pick her up, see if she needs changed.”

  “We just did that.” He gave her flat stare.

  “Babies go pee, too. How does the diaper feel? Heavy?”

  Awkwardly, Jax felt the baby’s bottom to see if the diaper needed changed. Ashley screamed in his ear. “Nothing.”

  “Okay, now, look at the clock. It might be time for her to eat.”

  Jax looked at his watch. “I guess it might be.”

  Ivory handed him a can of formula, and he switched arms, Ashley’s thin legs dangling over his forearm. Ivory couldn’t have pictured a more perfect moment if she tried, him standing there, concern on his face, reading the can for the instructions, Ashley crying, her little tears sliding down her face. She took a deep breath and stepped back to separate herself from the duo. She didn’t belong there. She was just the social worker.

  She followed him down the back staircase into the kitchen. She took Ashley while he mixed the contents of the baby milk in a bottle and popped it into the microwave. Ashley continued to cry, her forehead turning beet red, the veins standing out.

  “Hurry, she’s getting mad,” Ivory said, bouncing Ashley on her knee. “It’s okay, Ashley, we’re going to get you a bottle in a minute.”

  The microwave dinged. “I have to check the warmth, right?”

  Ivory smiled at him, his green eyes questioning as she bounced Ashley on her knee, which pacified the child for the moment. “Yes. On your wrist.”

  He squirted it. “It feels cold.”

  “Its fine,” she said, handing Ashley back over to him. “She should be holding the bottle on her own by now.”

  As if on cue, Ashley took hold of the pink bottle with her little fingers, gripping the plastic as she ate. She stared up at Jax, and he leaned back against the counter as he cradled her in his arms. Ivory blinked back tea
rs. “You can, uh, hire a part-time nanny to help you out until you get the hang of it.”

  Jax looked up, as if stunned to see her standing there. “Yeah. I could.”

  Feeling like her presence was no longer needed, Ivory backed up. “I’m going to go now,” she said quietly, not disturb the baby. “Call me if you need anything.”

  Jax stopped her. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  She turned back to face him, his brows slashes of concern across his face. “What about our date?”

  Ivory grinned. “Let me know when you find a sitter.”

  Chapter Seven

  Twilight descended on Boston by the time she reached home. Nana had turned on the porch light for her, but when Ivory pulled into the driveway, a very familiar Mustang sat in her way. She pulled back out onto the street and parked her Jeep along the curb. Nathan had come to visit. The man hadn’t called her, not so much as e-mail or text her in nearly a year, and now he called and showed up unexpectedly. Her stomach did a little flip.

  She opened the door and found her grandmother wrapped up in an afghan, not yet in her nightclothes or rollers yet. She had a suspicious looking tumbler set on a coaster on the glass end table next to her, and Ivory raised her eyebrow at her nana.

  “I’m home,” she said.

  Nathan swiveled around in the chaise lounge he reclined on. “Hey.”

  He wore a simple pair of jeans and wool sweater, but Ivory still thought he looked incredibly handsome. The blue of his shirt brought out the darker blue of his eyes. She looked to Nana for an explanation.

  “Would you like a drink, honey? Nathan brought over a delicious bottle of old scotch.”

  Ivory sat down on the rocker next to Nana, hard. Usually the living room was her favorite place. The couches were comfy and overly plump, the muted lavender of the room distinguished against the white furniture, the whicker rocker and glass tables. She glanced at Nathan’s easy smile. Maybe he had a glass of old scotch, too.

  “Sure. I think I need one.”

  She went to kitchen, the tumblers already set out and the scotch open on the counter. Her seventy-year-old grandmother was drinking! Nathan would pay for that. Ivory poured herself a generous helping and then returned to her seat in the living room. Rocky and Bullwinkle played on the television, and Ivory nearly laughed out loud at the audacity of the situation.

  “Nathan, what are you doing here?”

  Nathan stood. “Can we go up to your bedroom? To talk?”

  Ivory glanced at Nana who kept her eyes glued to the flickering screen of the television. “Sure,” she conceded. She got up, her feet like lead as she took the stairs one at a time. She felt like she was heading to her doom, as if her morning, again, with Jax were written all over her face. No doubt he wanted to talk about Jax.

  When he followed her into her bedroom, she shut the door. He stared at the room, wandering from the canopy, four-poster bed to the dresser and the red curtains. “Nothing’s changed.”

  Ivory shrugged and sat on her vanity chair before her shaking legs gave out. She pushed a hand back through her hair. She could still smell Jax on her clothes, his scent clinging to the lapels of her shirt. “I don’t like change.”

  Nathan sat down on the bed, smoothing his hand over her burgundy comforter. “Were you with Jax all this time?”

  “How long have you been here?”

  Nathan stood, paced the length of the room, then pivoted on his foot to turn back toward her. “About an hour, but Nana told me you’d left this morning.”

  Ivory’s stomach clenched at the sight of him standing her in bedroom, the thunderous look on his face akin to jealousy. His blue eyes darkened to nearly black and his jaw ticked. Perfectly shaven, his hair just messy enough to be stylish.

  “Jax decided to take in Ashley. We went shopping for her, and then we brought her to his home.” Why did she explain herself? They were no longer involved.

  Nathan studied her, as if looking for the signs that she’d been with Jax. She wondered if he could see the mark on her left breast Jax left there that morning. She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze.

  “I don’t want you to get involved with him, Ivory.”

  Ivory bolted to all of her five-foot-two height and stood on her tiptoes to push her finger into Nathan’s rock hard chest. “You don’t get to tell me who I can date.”

  “So, now you’re dating him?” je asked, his tone full of disbelief. “Are you crazy, Ivory? He’s leaving.”

  Ivory circled her stomach with her arms, suddenly sick at the reminder of Jax’s imminent return to war. “I know.”

  “He’s going to hurt you.”

  Ivory glared at him, her bottom lip quivering in bitter anger. “Oh, I think I can handle it. I survived you, didn’t I?”

  Nathan sighed, his tense shoulders going slack. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  Ivory relented on her attack and tore her gaze away from Nathan to wander over to her window overlooking their small backyard. Nana’s flowers were beginning to die, just like the pansies along Jax’s walk. Their only tree, the leaves yellowing, glowed golden in the soft light from the kitchen window.

  “You deserve a lot more than I’m giving you,” she told Nathan’s reflection in the window, his eyes seeming tired and sad. “I’m sorry. I’m just mixed up right now. Ashley’s getting a home, another of my kids went home with a good family. I’m happy for them, and yet I’m sad they’re gone.”

  Nathan came up behind her and settled his palms on her shoulders. She closed her eyes briefly at the contact, the warmth settling in her chest, comforting the invisible wound he’d opened. “They’ll be happy, you know that.”

  She nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Sometimes this job gets so hard I think I’ll give up and leave it all behind. Find a better way to help children.”

  Nathan turned her around and tilted her chin up. “What better way could you help children than by finding them a good home?”

  Ivory shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe teach or something along those lines,” she said. “I just don’t know.”

  Nathan dropped his hands from her shoulders and tucked them into the back pockets of his jeans. “I got a little information on Mary.”

  Ivory swiped the moisture away from her eyes. “Really?”

  Nathan resumed his seat on her bed. “She ran with a bad crowd. Jake Darwin is, was, her supplier. I suspect he also pimped her out to his cronies, and friends.”

  Ivory sank down onto her seat again, cradling her head in her hand. “So, Ashley’s father could literally be anyone. Great.”

  Ivory let the news wash away the last bit of happiness she felt at Ashley’s placement. She wondered how Jax was doing so far. She could still feel the imprint of his lips against hers, the way he loved her body.

  Nathan watched her closely. “Jax is a good man, don’t get me wrong. I’d do anything for him, because that’s just who he is but he’s troubled, Ivory. You can’t save him like you do your kids.”

  Ivory looked over at Nathan, knowing deep down her ex-fiancé spoke a kernel of truth. She saw firsthand the shadows in Jax’s eyes, the way he’d asked her to share her warmth with him. What did he know about life she didn’t? Sure, he seemed far more experienced in a lot of ways, but she’d dealt with the scum of the earth herself on a daily basis.

  “I don’t need to save him, Nathan.”

  “Sure, you do,” he said, a half smile touching his lips. “It’s your niche. Lost souls, giving them a place to find a home. Jax has a home. With his team.”

  Ivory shook her head, her hair swinging slightly with the motion. “Everyone deserves a safe place to sleep.”

  Nathan stood and bent over to kiss her cheek on the way out the door, his lips leaving a tingling that lingered. “Take care of yourself, Ivory. I care about you, and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

  “You’re the last person who has any right to say that to me,” she whispered when he closed her d
oor. She listened to his footsteps descending the stairs, the brief pause when he must have said good-bye to her nana and then the front door slam.

  Minutes later, a creaking let her know Nana was heading up the stairs. Ivory met her at the top to give her grandmother a hand. “Come on, Cha-Cha. Let’s sit for a spell. Help me put my rollers in. My hands are acting up.”

  Ivory helped her grandmother into her own bedroom, the room decorated much like Ivory’s save for the green comforter and drapes. Ivory went into Nana’s bathroom, reaching under the sink for her basket of rollers. She saw a little orange bottle of pills. Heart pills.