by Ivy Jordan
Bailey’s arms flailed in the air as she ran towards Elijah. She jumped into his arms as he set the cooler and umbrella down in the sand and immediately started telling him about a turtle she’d watched cross the sand with its babies.
I took the blanket from Elijah’s shoulders and spread it on the ground while he was enthralled in the little girl’s story. She hadn’t noticed me yet, so I stood there awkwardly, not knowing if I should sit, or wait to be introduced.
“Bailey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Elijah finally said, turning towards me with Bailey in his arms.
I could feel Kellie’s stare, but I didn’t dare look towards it for fear of turning to stone in her sight. “This is Taylor, my very special friend,” he added with a smile meant to calm me, but only unnerved me more.
“Like a girlfriend?” Bailey giggled as her eyes widened on mine.
“Yes,” Elijah beamed.
I extended my hand to the three-year-old as if she were a business client. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said sweetly, grateful my voice hadn’t cracked while speaking.
Surprisingly, Bailey took two of my fingers in her hand, shaking it like it was second-nature to her. “Hi,” she smiled.
My heart swelled in my chest, nearly pushing through my body and falling at my feet. She was adorable, gracious, and now that I was up close to her, so much like Elijah it was eerie.
“Are you thirsty?” Elijah changed the topic quickly by leaning down to dig in the cooler he’d brought. Bailey stood beside him, carefully inspecting each item he pulled from the ice. “Apple juice,” she squealed, jumping up and down as he handed her the small box and a straw.
“Can you help me build a sand castle now?” she asked, pulling on Elijah’s hand.
He smiled at me apologetically but agreed to the little girl’s request. I stood there, alone with Kellie, feeling a knot growing in my stomach from all the swallowed lumps.
“Have a seat,” she said graciously. “They’ll be over there forever,” she added with a sigh.
I took a seat on the blanket I’d spread out next to hers, and kicked off my shoes. She was wearing a yellow bikini, one so bright it competed with the sun for attention on the small beach. She was a beautiful woman, just as she was in school, and her looks, her wealth, the fact she’d given Elijah a child all overwhelmed me.
“She’s a beautiful little girl,” I said, breaking the silence I’d held onto.
Kellie nodded. “Yes, and she’s so happy to have her daddy in her life,” she added.
I stared out at Elijah and Bailey, gathering sand in the buckets she’d brought with her to the beach. “He’s happy to have her in his life as well,” I smiled.
Kellie pushed her sunglasses to her nose, giving me my first glimpse of her eyes. They weren’t glaring or snobbish at all, instead they were filled with amusement. “That’s such a shocker, don’t ya think?” she asked.
I laughed nervously as I nodded. “He’s changed a lot,” I sighed, leaning back on my hands.
“Take that cover up off; you’ll miss your chance at the best sun,” Kellie urged.
I wasn’t used to her being friendly to me, but it felt nice. I slid the white cover up from my body, revealing my purple bikini. I was built just as good as Kellie, maybe even better with my firm, full breasts compared to her smaller ones that looked to already be sagging. “So, you’ve known Elijah since school. He was good friends with your brother, right?” Kellie asked.
“Yes, best friends,” I corrected.
“So, am I making the right decision by allowing him to be in her life? You don’t think he’ll just disappear one night?” she questioned.
It felt good to see her vulnerability. It made her more human. “I don’t think you could get rid of him now, even if you tried,” I smirked, knowing she’d tried to get rid of me.
She smiled, her expression filled with relief. “I’m sorry about the whole thing with you. I just thought, well, you know what I thought,” she laughed.
“That I was just a flavor of the month?” I questioned with a chuckle.
“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “But ya know, after talking to Elijah about you, listening to him defend you the way he did, and fight for you to be in his life, it’s clear that you are much more to him than I thought,” she admitted.
I looked out at the man who had my heart as he played in the sand with his daughter. I turned back and smiled to Kellie, unable to hide the happiness her words had brought onto me. It was clear that I meant more to Elijah than I once thought I did as well.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Elijah
My hands trembled around my steering wheel as I pulled in front of my house. Taylor smiled at me warmly and then turned to the back seat to ask Bailey if she was ready to see her new home. I swallowed hard as I opened the car door. Bailey had been excited, chanting that she had two homes, all the way from her mother’s house to my street, but she was quiet now.
I opened her door and leaned down to unfasten her buckle, but her little hands pushed mine out of the way. “I can do it. I’m a big girl,” she said, her crooked smile spreading across her face as she worked open the belt. I chuckled as she lifted from her seat, her little arms reaching for my neck. I lifted her from the seat, held her securely in my arms, and took a deep breath. This was it; no turning back now. Everything I had completed inside, everything I did to turn that house into a home was now ready to be critiqued by the most important woman in my life, one of the most important women in my life.
“Are you excited?” Taylor asked, her own voice filled with enthusiasm. Bailey nodded, but then shoved her face into my shoulder as I walked towards the house. I knew she had to be scared, probably confused as well. In her world, life on the small island, mommies and daddies lived together, and kids had one house, not two. Even so, Bailey had been a trooper, through it all. She just needed some time to get used to the place. I’d do everything in my power to make her comfortable here. I’d promised Kellie I’d bring her home if she was too afraid to stay the night, but I really didn’t want to do that. I wanted her to sleep in her new bed, to see how much effort I’d put into making her room perfect.
Taylor opened the front door while I carried Bailey inside. She still had her face buried into my shoulder, and her little hands clung to me as I tried to peel her from my side. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly. “Don’t you want to open your eyes and see what it looks like in here?” I questioned.
Her little face pulled from my shoulder, and her eyes widened as she looked around the living room. I had a large screen TV on the wall, and a special small recliner next to the large couch, just for Bailey. A shelf on the wall held books, mostly all kid’s stories that I thought she might enjoy. I’d done my best to make every room kid friendly, with a lot of help from Taylor. “Are those my books?” she asked, staring at the shelf. I nodded.
She squirmed from my arms and walked to the coffee table, where Taylor had made a Lego building platform and started a pink house and red car. Bailey smiled as she touched the tiny blocks, and then looked up at me with eyes so bright they lit up the entire room. “Do I have a room here?” she asked.
“Yes, you do,” I said eagerly, extending my hand to hers. Her tiny grip tightened around my fingers as I guided her down the hallway to her room. She let go of my fingers as we stood in the doorway, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree as she scanned the brightly colored room and all its contents.
“I love it,” she squealed, running to her bed. She pulled herself onto the mattress and ran her little hand over the stitched blue whale on her quilt. “Mr. Whale,” she gasped. My heart raced from her excitement. I’d never known the whale to have a name, but was pleased she found him familiar. The little old lady I found online created it for me in less than a week with the picture I’d sent her on Bailey’s purple beach bag.
“You’ve got lots of toys, but if there’s anything you need, just let me know, and we’ll get it,” I smiled.
Taylor slipped in beside me, her hand entangled around mine as she let out a soft sigh. “I knew she’d love it,” she whispered.
I stepped into the room, showing her everything in her toy box, pulling stuff out one by one. I pulled open her closet door, showing her all the adorable outfits Taylor helped me pick out hanging in a perfect row of bright colors and soft fabrics. “And if you get scared, there’s a soft cushion in here with a flashlight next to it where you can hide,” I informed her, pointing to the pad I’d made on the floor inside the closet.
When I was little, and my dad was on one of his tangents, that was where I hid. I knew that Bailey’s life was going to be much different than mine, but I still wanted to ensure she had somewhere she could feel safe if ever scared. “I’m not afraid of anything,” she chuckled, narrowing her eyes at me with that familiar crooked smile of mine plastered on her face.
Taylor giggled, causing Bailey to laugh even harder, and eventually, we were all three standing in the pink room laughing, for what, I wasn’t sure, but it felt amazing.
“Okay, we need to pick you out something to wear,” I instructed, thumbing through the clothes.
“Why?” she asked, still breathless from her laughter.
“We’re going to dinner at the neighbors’ house,” I explained.
“Who’s the neighbors?” she asked.
“Clinton, he’s a super nice man, and his wife, Leah,” I smiled, pulling out a pretty blue dress from the hanger. “How about this?” I asked, holding the dress towards Bailey.
She wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. I watched her work to get down from the bed, and then rush to my side. “Lift me,” she insisted, pointing to the clothes on the rack.
I obliged, lifting her to my hip and allowing her the freedom to push through the clothes. “This,” she declared, pulling a pink princess dress from its hanger. It was meant to be more of a dress-up outfit than one you wear in public, but I wasn’t going to argue. Who am I to argue with this strong-willed three-year-old?
“Okay,” I agreed. “Then you’ll need princess shoes,” I chuckled, pulling the play shoes made of plastic, but resembling glass slippers from the top shelf of the closet. Her eyes lit up again as she grabbed them from my hand. She held them close to her chest, rocking them back and forth like a newborn baby as I set her down.
“Do you need help?” I asked, not sure what level of independence my daughter had at three.
“Nope,” she insisted with a wide grin on her face.
“Okay, well, Taylor and I are going to get dressed for dinner. If you need anything, just yell for one of us,” I told her and turned to leave her to get ready.
Taylor fell onto my mattress as we entered my room. Her smile was wide and her eyes bright as she stared at me walking towards the closet. “You are an amazing father,” she blurted.
I chuckled. “I’d hardly say that. I don’t even know what to do,” I admitted.
“You’re doing just fine,” she insisted, raising up to prop her body with her elbows behind her.
I felt like I was doing a good job, but it always made me feel better to hear Taylor assure me.
I knocked on Clinton’s door with Bailey adorned in her pink princess dress and glass slippers at my left side, and Taylor in a beautiful blue sundress at my right. Clinton opened the door, his expression immediately filling with excitement as he invited us inside. “I didn’t know we were having royalty for dinner,” he gasped, leaning down to speak directly to Bailey. She giggled and then held her dress prettily between her pinched finger and thumb as she bowed before him.
Leah reacted the same way Clinton had when she noticed Bailey’s flowing pink gown. Once they both had properly greeted the princess, they turned their attention to Taylor. “So glad to meet you,” Clinton said warmly, shaking Taylor’s hand with a firm grip. Leah pulled her in for a tight hug, just as she’d done me when we first met.
Dinner conversation bounced from work on the house to Taylor’s work to Bailey’s world, filled with princesses, Mr. Whale, and a new daddy to get to know. They were warm people, Clinton and his wife, and I was glad we’d come to dinner. I enjoyed having them be a part of my world, one so new it still scared me to be in it at times.
After dinner, Clinton ushered me to his office to enjoy a Cuban cigar, sent to him by his father-in-law who still lived in the country. I sat in the high-back chair, the same one I’d been so uncomfortable in before, and felt strangely at ease.
“I want to thank you,” I smiled at the older man across from me, the one who’d taken the time to share my father’s last words with me. His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead, and he cocked his head to the left as if he didn’t have a clue what I was thanking him for.
“If it wasn’t for you dragging me in here, making me listen to that tape, and telling me your own story, I don’t know if I would’ve stayed,” I admitted.
Clinton shook his head and laughed. “Elijah, your past doesn’t have anything to do with your future. You wouldn’t’ve walked away from that little girl because that’s not who you are; it has nothing to do with who you were,” he smiled.
His words were always slightly confusing, but comforting and strangely helpful. “Thank you, for everything, Clinton,” I reiterated.
“And besides, even if it wasn’t for that little princess in there, I highly doubt you would’ve left Taylor,” he smirked. “She’s a keeper.”
I leaned back in my chair, puffed on the expensive cigar, and smiled at Clinton. He was right. I don’t think I could’ve left Taylor, even if Bailey wasn’t thrown into the mix.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Taylor
It had been just shy of a month since Bailey stayed her first night in Elijah’s house. I’d barely been at my own house since that night, and always dreaded going back there to water my plants, take out the garbage, or just to pick up more clothes. I’d practically moved in, without the formality of the event. But, I did have a key, and a car seat strapped in the backseat of my car for when I’d pick Bailey up after work to save Elijah the trip.
I lay in Elijah’s bed, sinking into the soft mattress as I stared at him sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him, but I knew as soon as I tried to slip out to make breakfas, he’d stir awake. The house was quiet, quieter than it had been for a month. We had a day of hiking planned, where Elijah would teach her some survival skills, some I was anxious to learn myself.
“Don’t even think about it,” he grumbled into the pillow as I started to slide my leg from the mattress to the floor. I froze in my spot, startled that he was awakened so easily.
“Don’t even think about what?” I asked, pushing back the giggles that threatened escape from my lips.
“About leaving this bed,” he growled playfully, rolling to his side and gripping my waist forcefully. The strength of his grip made me squeal with delight as he pulled me back onto the bed and into his bare chest.
“Don’t you have to work today?” I asked, snuggling into his chest, hoping the answer was no.
“Later,” he smirked.
His house in Miami was on the market, and he was working with Isaac from the island. With the six hour time difference, Elijah could start his day at one o’clock instead of seven in the morning, but he was sometimes working until the wee hours of the night. I knew it was hard on him, giving up his daily routine, so he was working hard to make it as normal as possible while living so far away from all the action. Isaac kept him busy, researching clients, doing backgrounds checks, and organizing files, and with his day trading back on track, his weeks were busier than mine.
“Did you book the trip?” I asked, looking up into his hungry eyes.
“Yes ma’am, three first class tickets to Miami,” she smiled proudly.
Bailey was excited to make the trip, and to meet some of the other SEALs, which she still didn’t understand were soldiers, not sea creatures. “The house is sold, so I just have to be at closing, and then we can spend the
three wonderful days there enjoying the scenery,” he added with a long sigh.
The scenery? I tried not to giggle, but one escaped anyway. I’d saw too many movies based in Miami, with old men, all retired and wearing golf pants. I couldn’t imagine much scenery.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, rolling over onto me and pinning me to the mattress. I squealed with delight as his lips lowered to my neck, and then rolled to my mouth.
His hand pushed my nightgown up around my hips, and his eyes lit up at the realization I wasn’t wearing panties.
His fingers searched through my swollen flesh, playfully gliding through my slick arousal as he teased my cunt. The soft moans rolling from his throat vibrated my body, sending tiny shivers of excitement through each nerve ending. His cock rested against my leg, sliding back and forth against my bare skin as he rocked onto me, sending his fingers deep into my pussy with quick, exhilarating thrusts.
My lips parted, allowing my own moans to escape between them as he leaned down, gently biting my bottom lip. Every move he made, every look he delivered was so sensual, so perfectly delivered, that my body reacted effortlessly to his touch.
He lifted from me quickly, his weight missed as soon as it was gone. My chest felt light, empty, lonely, and I wanted him back against me, pressing me into the mattress. “Let’s get you out of this,” he grinned, tugging at my silky nightgown.
I lifted my body, allowing him to slide the material up and over my hips, and then slowly over my breasts, my head, and then onto the floor. His eyes rested on my full breasts, his tongue slid across his bottom lip, and then he lowered for his first taste. I gasped as his mouth clamped onto my nipple, sucking on the hardened flesh until I let out a moan of pleasure. “You taste so fuckin’ good in the morning,” he chuckled, lowering himself between my legs.
