by Tia Louise
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not cheating on anyone.”
“Your father was determined to bring your sister and you into his den of iniquity. You’re doing the same with Coco.”
“It’s not a den of iniquity,” I hiss. “Jackson is making her breakfast.”
“Did you spend the night here?” Her eyes are cold, but I’m not lying or hiding. I never have.
“Yes.” My chin lifts.
“Where did Coco sleep?”
“Jackson fixed up the smaller room with a twin bed and a canopy and mermaids and goldfish and seahorses. She loves it.”
The door behind me cracks open and Coco steps out. “Granny!” She runs forward and hugs my mother’s legs.
Instinctively, I want to snatch my daughter back. My fists clench, and I resist the impulse, allowing her to hug her grandmother. I don’t want to teach her to hate this woman. I want her to make her own decision when she’s old enough.
“Coco, you’re coming home with me,” my mother says.
That, however, is not going to happen. “She is not—” I start.
My daughter cuts me off, “No, Granny! I have to stay in Atlantia!”
“What’s…?” My mother’s eyes flash, but I’m done with this conversation.
“No, Momma. She is not staying with you anymore.”
The door opens a bit wider, and I feel warmth at my back. From the change in my mother’s expression, I know Jackson is behind me.
“Good morning, Marjorie. Everything okay out here?” He puts his hand in mine, and I feel stronger.
Her lips press into a line, and her eyes flash from him to me to Coco. My daughter tugs on Jackson’s arm, and he quickly lifts her onto his hip. I don’t take my eyes off my mother.
“I won’t stand for this, Emberly. I will protect my granddaughter.”
“Are you threatening me, Momma?”
Jackson’s hand covers my shoulder. “She wouldn’t do that. Would you, Marjorie?”
Fury blazes in her eyes, but mine are equally hot. “It’s advice.”
“Take Coco in the house,” I say quietly.
He hesitates, and it’s the first time my eyes leave my mother’s. They meet his, and his brows quirk. Still, he does as I ask. The door closes, and for a moment we observe each other in silence.
My mother speaks first. “When you needed me, I was there for you. I raised that child the right way, and I’m not letting you take her from the path.”
“You lied to me. Now that I know the truth, I’m not letting you do any more damage.”
Her hand goes to her hip. “The Lord brought her into my life, it’s my responsibility to protect her.”
It’s an old argument I know I’ll never win, so I don’t even try. “You said you gave me a bit of advice earlier? Well, I have some advice for you: butt out. I’m not Pastor Green. Your dictations aren’t welcome here.”
Her back stiffens and she turns to go. “This matter isn’t over.”
I don’t respond. She’s said those words to me before, and they’ve meant nothing. This time, I’m a bit more concerned about her level of commitment.
I stand firm, not backing down until I know she’s gone.
Nineteen
Jack
I’m on the other side of the door, holding the handle in case I need to go out there again. Once we’re inside, Coco wiggles out of my arms and runs to the table where her breakfast waits.
Naming her Princess of Atlantia won me major brownie points with the sassy preschooler. That, or it won me the title of Royal Packhorse, or bodyguard.
Two positions I’m more than happy to fill.
Outside, neither Ember nor her mother’s voice is raised, but I can hear the tension through the door. I saw it in their eyes, and it radiates off Ember’s body. I know their history is rocky, and I know Ember wants me to let her handle it.
Still, Marjorie Warren has already gone to great lengths to keep us apart, and I won’t let her get away with it again. I won’t let her get away with threatening my girl. I am still a lawyer, and I can stop her.
Finally, I see her mother leaving. Ember waits a few seconds longer before slowly reentering the cottage. She looks wounded, and I hate she’s dealing with this—especially in view of what I have to do.
Going to her, I put my hands on her waist. “You okay?”
She shrugs. “I don’t like fighting with her. But it’s the only thing she understands.”
“Control is the only thing she understands,” I say. “Anything out of her control is a threat.” Dark eyes blink up to mine, and I place my palm against her cheek. “You’re safe with me.”
She smiles, and I lean forward to kiss the tip of her nose. Her hands are around my waist, and she’s looking at me with that expression she used to have. Like I was the most important guy in the world. It gives me so much confidence.
“What shall we do today?”
I glance over to the clock then down to the table where our breakfast sits. “Let’s finish up here then head to the beach. We can spend the afternoon at our place.”
* * *
“Your truck is loud!” Coco shouts, sitting between us in her seatbelt on a mermaid booster chair, also courtesy of Thelma.
Her hands are clasped over her ears. The windows are down, and my arm is propped on the door as I drive. Emberly looks out the open passenger’s window, catching her long dark spirals as they wind around her neck and face.
“It’s an old truck, but it’s good for hauling,” I explain.
“What’s hauling?” Coco frowns up at me.
“Carrying stuff.”
Soon I’m slowing us down, pulling off to park in the copse just beside the road. Coco bounces in her seat, quickly unfastening her seatbelt and hopping out after her mother. Ember grabs the enormous tote bag she packed with more shit than I’ve ever taken to the beach.
“Taking Coco requires more supplies,” she explains.
I’m still not convinced.
I grab the umbrella and towels, and I’m following behind the two of them. Coco runs full-speed, clearly familiar with this private beach spot. I watch Ember’s cute little ass sway in her cutoffs. Her dark hair hangs in spiral curls to her waist, and my thoughts go to the last time we were here.
I wonder if Coco naps at the beach…
The trees open, and pale brown sand extends to dark blue waters. The little girl drops everything she’s carrying on the spot and runs straight into it squealing with glee. Ember looks over her shoulder and smiles at me. I wink back. I can relate to that expression of unbridled joy pretty well.
Coco runs up and down the surf as we set up camp. “She’s been coming here since before she could walk,” Ember says, sitting on a towel and watching her daughter. “I’m so happy she loves it as much as me.”
“I’ve missed it,” I say, dropping beside her. “It’s the only thing I missed as much as you.”
She smiles and scoots closer, resting her back against my chest. The warmth of her skin on mine is the best thing in the world.
“Tell me about what you did when you left,” she says softly. “I only had the one letter.”
My brows pull together. “I’d forgotten about that. What did it say?”
“Not enough to live on for ten years.” She lets out a sad little laugh. “You were getting settled in. You missed me. You wouldn’t be home until fall break in October. You never came home.”
An old ache twists in my chest, and I kiss the side of her head. “I’m home now. We’re all home.”
“Home…” She turns to the side and wraps an arm around my waist, pressing her lips to my skin before placing her cheek against my chest. “Let’s don’t be sad. Tell me what it was like.”
“It was the normal college experience, I guess. Books, studying, exams, more exams. It was pretty boring compared to all the interesting things you were doing back here.”
That makes her laugh for real. “Flailing around, tryi
ng to grab onto anything that would anchor me? Yeah, that was awesome.”
Coco charges up then. “Mommy!”
Ember sits up and holds out her hands to catch her daughter’s sandy ones. “What?”
“Is today a holiday?”
Ember smiles and holds her. “No, sweets. What makes you think it’s a holiday?”
“We didn’t go to church!” Her little brow clenches. “Are we in trouble?”
That makes her mother laugh. “Why would we be in trouble?”
“Pastor Green yells so loud!” Her voice goes loud and she holds both hands up beside her face. “He’s going to shout at us for not being in church.”
“It’s okay, honey.” She leans forward and hugs her daughter. “Not everybody goes to church every single Sunday.”
“Bad people,” she says, nodding. “People who sit in the naughty chair. When we get home will we sit in the naughty chair?”
“Nope!” Ember says, with a big smile. “We’re going to play, and when we get home, you’ll take a bath, and you can have a red monster number five cupcake.”
That does it. Coco throws both hands over her head and does a little dance in a circle. She stops quickly and reaches around.
“Ouch,” she says, and Ember pulls her close.
“What’s the matter Coco bean?”
A quick examination shows the tag is chafing her tender skin, and Ember takes it off. “Run like the mermaid babies!” she cries, and Coco does another dance, running into the surf in only her bikini bottoms.
Watching the interaction start to finish, I’m so solidly in love. “She’s adorable. I want to paint you with her. Mermaid mother and child.”
“I’d love that.” Ember tosses the offending top aside and leans against my chest again. “She’d love it, too. She really likes you, and that makes me happy.”
My hands slide up and down her arms. She never finished telling me about Coco’s father, and I decide in this moment I don’t need to know about him.
Still, I can’t understand one thing. “I don’t know how he could give her up. I don’t know how he could give you up.”
She squints one eye at me, and does a little smile. “Are you sorry he did?”
“Hell, no. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Catching her face, I kiss her solidly, pushing her lips apart with mine and sliding my tongue against hers. I do it again, once more just to be sure she’s feeling it.
I let her go, and when our eyes meet, the heat is palpable. “Hmm…” she says, a sly smile on her lips.
“What’s that about?” I ask, sliding my thumb over the faint cleft in her chin.
“I’ve always loved being here with my daughter…” As her voice trails off, she starts to giggle, eyes twinkling.
The little girl squeals, and we both look over to see her in her pink inflatable ring, riding in and out on the surf.
“She’s having a great time,” I say quietly.
“She’ll sleep well tonight.”
I hear the suggestion in her tone, and I know it’s time. I have to tell her the truth. “I have to leave Oceanside.” Her expression changes to confusion, and my hands tighten on her sides. “I left some unfinished business. I’ve got to go back and finish it.”
Ember is so strong, but in that moment, I see a flicker of fear in her eyes. “How long will you be gone?”
“I’m not sure,” I answer truthfully. “I hope only a few days, but it might take me a week.”
She sits up, moving away from me, and the cool breeze underlines the fact she’s no longer in my arms. Her chin drops, and long hair ripples across her face.
“Are you crying?” I place my hand on her calf.
A little sniff, and she touches the back of her hand to her eye. “I just had the most painful feeling… like I could lose you again, that you won’t come back. That you’ll disappear.”
My arms surround her so fast, she exhales a little noise. “Look at me.” She’s on my lap, and her dark eyes flicker up to mine as she obeys me. “I will come back.” My voice is stern. “I am coming back, and after that, I won’t leave here again. Unless I take you with me.”
She drops her head to my chest, and I tuck it under my chin. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, and I understand her panic when I say I’m leaving. It’s a whisper in the back of my mind. Too many echoes of the past are bound up in those words.
“We won’t say goodbye,” I speak against her silky hair, kissing her head, inhaling lavender and sugar. “We’ll never say goodbye again.”
Her head moves in a nod, and her hand is flat against my chest. Pushing gently, she leans back, and while her eyes are glistening, I see resolve in them. Things are not the same as last time.
“We’re not children anymore.”
“We also have modern tech.” I give her a wink, and she does a little half-smile. “I’ll text you constantly, and when my thumbs fall off, I’ll call you.”
“I have to wait for your thumbs to fall off?” A dark eyebrow arches.
“I’ll call you every minute of every day. Every time I think of you, your phone will ring.”
“Okay,” she laughs. “Now you’re being ridiculous. I have to work.”
That makes me smile. “Only if you promise not to worry otherwise.”
Dark eyes soften, and she kisses my lips. “I promise.”
* * *
Ember and Coco are safe and secure in the cottage when I leave. Coco demands a detailed explanation of where I’m going and when I’ll be back. I can’t tell her everything, but she’s satisfied with my promise to call and hear her decrees for Atlantia every night. She’s as adorably bossy as her mother, who stands back quietly smiling, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Pain twists in my gut, and I pull her to my chest, holding her small body molded perfectly into mine.
“I’ll be back in a few days,” I say against her head.
Her slim arms are around my waist, and she nods against my chest.
“Nonstop calling, texts until my thumbs fall off,” I continue.
She only nods again.
“We’re in control of what’s happening now.” My hands travel up her arms to her shoulders, and I move her back to see my eyes. Hers are still gleaming, so I kiss one, then the other. “Tabby has instructions to keep an eye on you. Chad is still searching for Bucky, who I owe an ass-kicking…”
Her nose wrinkles, and she shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure he’s running scared.”
“Still.” I touch her chin with my thumb. “While I’m away, I’ve made sure you’re protected.”
“Who’s protecting you?”
My palm cups her cheek, and I kiss her deeply, pushing her lips apart, tongues colliding. She moves in closer, and heat rises below my belt.
I could kiss her forever, but I take a breath, lifting my chin with a groan. “Fucking unfinished business.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she says, and I kiss her hand before getting in my truck.
* * *
Driving The Beast into the city, I rehearse the plan in my mind. I’ll schedule a meeting with Brice first thing this morning, tell him what he has to do, and give him two days to come clean.
When I’d gone to his estate, I was shocked and reeling and trying to figure out how and if I was implicated in his deception. I hadn’t made an ultimatum.
Leaving, going to Oceanside, finding Emberly and Coco and knowing what I want for my life has put everything into perspective. I won’t be the guy who knows about something like this and lets it go without a word. Even if it’s career suicide, I’m not covering it up. The stakes are too high.
Standing in the lobby of the twenty-story high-rise, I smooth my hand down the front of my custom tailored suit. It’s dark grey with only the faintest pinstripes. It fits my body like a glove, no bagging or extra fabric. I remember being angry before if such things weren’t right. My image was all I had.
It’s been weeks since I’ve worn a suit, and w
hile I still like the feel of it, the attraction of being in this place has faded. Using my card, I’m able to enter the building before business hours. I’ve come early to beat the crowd, to avoid the surprised questions of where I’ve been and why I’m back. I have one purpose in being here—to confront Brice and resign.
Polished steel doors open, and I step inside the glossy wood-lined box. I hit the button labeled 21 and the doors close. Riding up in silence, I reflect on the decade I buried myself in paper and books and cases hoping to forget her.
I’m not even angry about it. Knowledge is never wasted. I’m glad for the experience. I just have a different life waiting for me back home. My priorities have changed.
With a ding, the doors slide open, and I step out onto pale marble tiles. The gleaming glass doors etched with the words Wagner & Bancroft greet me. A new receptionist is behind the desk, and I’m glad I don’t have to see Tiffany again. This one is short with dyed red hair cut in a classic bob, bangs and all.
“I’m sorry.” She stands quickly, hitching her navy skirt up at the waist of her pinstripe oxford shirt. She briefly reminds me of Tabby with her winged eyeliner and red lips. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Hello…” Leaning forward, I read her name off the plate. “Erica. I’m Jack Lockwood, one of the partners here.”
“Oh!” A perfectly outlined brow arches, and green eyes quickly scan the cut of my suit. “Mr. Lockwood. I thought you were… on leave.”
Figures they’d make up some bullshit story about why I disappeared so abruptly. “I’ve been out of town,” I say. “I have a meeting this morning with Mr. Wagner.”
A few mouse clicks and green eyes move to mine. “Mr. Wagner doesn’t have you on his schedule for today.”
I’m frustrated by the possible delay in my plans. “Will he be in this morning? Is his schedule open?”
Erica’s eyes slide over my suit, down my arm, and straight to my left hand, third finger. “He will. His schedule is clear, but I’ll enter your name for…”
“Nine.”
“Oh, I have a bit of your mail here.” She bends forward slowly, extending her derriere in my direction. When she straightens, she’s holding the latest issue of the bar association journal. “They have a very interesting article just inside…” Her finger holds the flap, and I take it.
