I nodded as if I knew this shit. “Go, take a load off. We’ll be fine.”
She turned and walked away while shoving her hair back into a tight knot.
“You know,” I told Darla, “when I knew your mommy a long time ago, she wore her hair messy. Pieces of it would fly out of her bun and she didn’t care.”
“Really?” Darla looked up at me with big blue eyes.
“Yep.”
We stood in the foyer, staring at each other for a few beats. Both of us seemed unsure of why the other was here and what to do next.
“Come on. Want to rent a movie?” I held out a shaky hand.
“Sure.” Darla stuck her small hand in mine.
“You can lie here.” I pointed to the couch, not giving a rat’s ass over how ridiculous it was to have a sick kid lying on a white sofa. “Let me get you a blanket and a pillow.”
She plopped down and curled into a ball. “Drew?”
“Yeah, Darla?”
“Do you have some lemonade?”
“I don’t. Wait . . . I have a few cans of Arnie Palmers.”
“Arnees? What’s that?”
“It’s iced tea and lemonade mixed. You’ll like it, and it’ll be good for your throat if it’s sore.”
“It is.”
I came back with a lightweight blanket and a pillow, and said, “One sec.” Then I got the drink and poured it into a plastic Hafton U tumbler.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I like this pillow. It’s huge.”
My heart ached in a way it never had before. I wanted to rub my daughter’s back and kiss away the pain. It was an instinct I didn’t think had been born into me. Especially with my family—cold, removed, step-this and step-that, ridiculous expectations I’d never wanted any part of.
“What type of movies do you like? Cartoons? Princesses?” I sat down by her feet, snatched the remote, and flitted through the on-demand offerings.
“Drew, Ms. Green said you look like my dad. Did you know him?”
All of a sudden, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Like a sad excuse for a movie, an eighties romantic dramedy . . . I was that guy.
“She did?”
“Did you know him? You have the same eyes as me.”
I remembered Sully saying something about kids and their mouths; anything and everything comes out of them. Back when he said it, I disregarded it, never believing I would experience it for myself.
Well, my daughter might as well have dropped the mic. I had a kid and she had a mouth.
Even when she was sick.
“I did know him,” I said, going with it. Jules was going to kill me, but I was pretty sure there was no movie to distract Darla from this conversation.
She took another sip of her drink, and then a bigger one.
“You like that?”
She nodded. “Tastes good.”
“The perfect amount of sweet and not,” I said with a wink.
She winked back and took another big gulp.
“Here, give it to me and I’ll set it right next to you on the table.” I leaned over her to set the drink down.
“How did you know him?”
Settled back in my seat, I blew out a long breath. Kids and their mouths.
“We were in school together. Your mom, dad, and I.” That sounded believable.
Her eyes started to close. “He’s busy with work, but he thinks about me.”
“He does think about you. I know it.”
She gave half a nod and fell asleep.
I sat there for a long while until I knew she was out, and then I went up to my office and grabbed my laptop.
Seated back at her feet, I worked until she woke up, hot and thirsty. It was time for some meds, so I got Darla another drink and a popsicle. And this time, we did watch a movie. Not a princess movie or a cartoon, but a funny one about a bunch of kids, a dog, and their clubhouse.
Darla giggled and laid her feet on my lap. It was the best two hours of my life.
When the movie was over, Darla said she had to pee. Drew from a few months ago would have been shocked to think of himself taking a little girl to use the bathroom, but Darla was his daughter.
And nothing feels more right.
I helped Darla up and showed her the way, waiting right outside the door for her.
“You hungry?” I asked when she came out.
“No.”
“No prob. Let’s go rest some more.”
“Thanks. Mom keeps making me eat toast.”
“Well, she’s a mom. She’s supposed to.”
This made Darla smile.
Jules
When I knocked quietly on Drew’s door, I barely heard his footsteps approach. He opened it, barefoot and with his finger covering his lips, silently telling me to be quiet.
I’d texted three times, and each time, he reported Darla was drinking fluids and resting.
“She’s asleep on the couch,” he now whispered, his breath tickling my cheek when he leaned close.
We stood face-to-face in the hallway, and I wriggled my nose to take in bigger whiffs of his scent. Faint hints of Scotch and sugar wafted in front of me.
“Thank you so much. Honestly, I really don’t know what I would’ve done. I should get her home to her bed now,” I said quietly.
“I know you’re going to argue.” Drew stepped a little closer and put his arm around my waist. “But stay.”
I tilted my head to the side and raised an eyebrow. Did he think I was born yesterday?
“Not what you think. Though, don’t think I don’t want you. I meant that I can carry Darla up to the guest room, and you can even stay with her. It . . . it has a queen-sized bed.” His voice was soft and raw, his emotions playing out in his stammer.
I didn’t answer.
“No monkey business, I swear. I just hate to see you shove her in a car and back out again. Plus, you look dead tired, Jules. Let me take care of you.”
“Darla will wake up so confused.”
Drew brushed his lips over the top of my head and pulled me as close as I could go. Mint now mingled with the Scotch and sugar. His hardness molded to my softness, my face ghosted over his chest, and I swallowed an enormous ball of lust.
“She’ll be fine. You’ll be there and explain where she’s sleeping. You’ll explain you didn’t want to move her.”
His lips kept brushing against my forehead. I was practically orgasming from the faint touch, and falling asleep in his arms at the same time.
“Okay,” I finally murmured, unable to handle the war between my heart and my head any longer.
“Come on. I’ll show you the room, and then I’ll bring Darla in.”
I don’t even remember collapsing beneath the down comforter, or Drew bringing Darla.
“Mommy.”
I heard a whisper and felt a finger poking my shoulder.
“Mommy.”
I turned in the direction of the voice and pried open my eyes. My mouth was as dry as stale beef jerky. At least, I imagined that’s what it tasted like—ass.
“Hi, honey, how do you feel?” I smoothed Darla’s hair back and stared at my precious little girl.
“Where are we?”
I cleared my throat; it felt like I swallowed an entire dead animal. “Drew’s. You were sleepy, and he didn’t want me to have to wake you.” I brought the back of my hand to her forehead. “You feel cool as a cucumber. Thank God.”
I couldn’t help myself. I pressed my lips to her forehead, kissing the heck out of my baby girl. I took in the pale green walls and the soft breeze of the ceiling fan. The bed had a forest-green canvas headboard, and the linens must have been thousand count. My cheek felt like it was resting atop satin.
“Drew gave me Arnees to drink. It tasted good,” Darla said, pulling me out of my reverie.
“What did he give you?” I sat halfway up and stared down at my rumpled work clothes. I stank like steak and grease, and I wanted to step out of the bedroom as much as
I wanted a root canal.
“Arnees to drink. It had lemonade and—”
“Iced tea,” I said with a smile. “Arnie’s? Like Arnie Palmer?”
“Yeah,” she said dreamily, lying on her pillow.
Of course, she was smitten with Drew. Forget that he was her father; he was a gorgeous hunk of man doting on her every wish—in practically a palace compared to our apartment.
“This pillow is nice. I like it,” she said.
Duh. “I know, baby girl. It is.”
“I like it here. We watched movies, and Drew has two toilets in his bathroom.”
A bidet, I presumed, but I wasn’t explaining that now. “That’s good, honey. I’m glad he could take good care of you.”
I swung my legs over to stand up from the bed.
“He knows my daddy.”
And like that, I fell backward into the bed and squeezed my fists. I knew it was only a matter of time.
Drew always got what he wanted. Years ago, he came into my life, snatched me up as his star player, and made me his lover. Okay, he didn’t make me. I went willingly. But then he exited my life at his convenience.
“Mom, are you okay?” Darla’s scratchy voice pulled me out of my rage, her hand gently patting my shoulder.
As I suspected, Drew was steamrolling right back into my life. Like he’d never left.
He was my ex. Darla’s father. My soon-to-be lover. He wanted it all, and wouldn’t stop until he got it. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought.
“I’m okay, sweetie. He did know your dad. What did he tell you?” God only knows.
“He said my dad thinks about me a lot. He knows it. For sure.” She twisted her rat’s nest of hair around her fingers.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shoved back the tears when a knock came on the door.
“Come in,” I called, and Darla popped up to meet the opening door.
There he was, in workout shorts and a T-shirt, his scorpion tattoo peeking above the neckline, carrying a tray with coffee and a can of Arnie Palmer. I remembered a time I’d been fascinated with the idea of his tattoos, and then how I’d felt when I finally ran my fingers over them.
They were meant to protect his heart. But what about mine? And Darla’s?
I looked at my watch for the first time since waking up. It was nine. “Wow, I just realized how late it is.”
He walked in and set the tray down on the night table. “I figured you were beat, so I hit the gym and came back.”
Of course he did.
“How are you, superstar?”
“Better.” Darla hopped around the room on one foot until she was next to the tray. “Can I have that drink?”
“You betcha.” He winked and ruffled the top of her messy bedhead.
Then, like it was an everyday occurrence, he cracked open the can and emptied it into a plastic cup for her, and poured a cup of coffee for me, mixing in the milk.
“And for your mom, coffee.”
My thanks came out more like a croak, and then I focused on my daughter. “Looks like you’re off one more day, Dar. Today, you’ll rest up, and then back to school tomorrow.” I stood, sipping my coffee and smoothing my rumpled oxford with my free hand.
“Mom, can we get bagel sandwiches for lunch? Since I’m home?”
“Sure, sweetie. But first, let’s help Drew make the bed.”
“Leave it,” he insisted, and I gave him a dirty look. “My housekeeper will get it.”
“What’s that? A housekeeper?” Evidence of the huge discrepancy between the way we lived and the way he lived came rolling out of Darla’s mouth, leaving Drew without a response.
“No answer?” I said, taunting him.
Drew shoved a hand through his hair, obviously at a loss for words. “Um, Darla . . .”
“Honey, a housekeeper helps someone take care of their house when they’re super busy at work. Like Drew.”
“You’re busy at work, Mom. Super busy.” Darla took another long sip of her drink, eyeing me the whole time.
“Well, it’s their job. Being a housekeeper is a job, so they get paid to do it. I don’t make enough money to pay someone a good salary to do that.”
“Oh.” Darla’s shoulders sagged while Drew’s gaze flicked between the two of us. “I have to pee,” she said, quickly changing subjects like only a six-year-old can.
“There’s a bathroom right back there.” Drew pointed toward the left of the mirror, and Darla hopped toward it and shut the door behind her.
“Still want to be a dad?” My tone was angry and ruthless, and I immediately regretted it.
“I have a lot of learning to do, I guess, but yes, I want every single second. Even the ones where I sound like an ass.”
He moved closer and took my coffee, setting it aside. He smelled like sweat and strawberries . . . he must have had a smoothie. I wanted to lick him everywhere. Forget the coffee and my daughter in the adjoining bathroom.
“Let me take you for bagels and then keep Darla tonight,” he mumbled along my cheek, sending goose bumps running down my arm and up my spine.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s too much, too soon.”
“Just bagels?” He kissed my earlobe, his breath tickling my neck.
“My breath.” I turned my face away from his, covering my mouth.
“Just bagels, or I’m going to kiss you.”
“No, no way. No kissing.” I shoved him back.
“So, bagels it is.”
Darla took that moment to pop out of the bathroom and catch us still sitting a bit too close, occupying each other’s personal space.
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
“Yep, I’m good, but I need to go home and change. Then we can go for bagels.”
“And I’m going too,” Drew added.
I hoped he planned on changing too. There was no way I could keep my heart in check with him looking like that, dying to catch more glimpses of the scorpion.
Drew
Jules stood there awkward as shit in my guest room. I knew she wanted to flee, and it was my job to make sure she didn’t leave. Even with my stupid blunder over what the hell a housekeeper was, I wanted to hold on tight as hell to both of them.
I didn’t try to stop her from going home and changing. But I did insist on picking them up and taking them for bagels.
The windows were down on my SUV as I pulled up outside their building, and I heard a knocking above me. Sure enough, I saw Darla pounding on the window above and waving. She came running down ahead of her mother, her hair flying around her face.
“Hey, Drew, do you know the bagel place with the huge bagel on top? It has a bite taken out of it?” She’d thrown open the door and was climbing in the backseat, Jules coming up behind her.
I thought for a second. “Yeah, I do. It’s called Albert’s. Is that where you want to go?”
“Darla, we discussed this—”
“It’s expensive, so Mommy said I shouldn’t ask. But it looks so cute with the bagel on top, and I want to go so bad.”
Jules frowned at me. “I’m so sorry, Drew. She’s been begging to go.”
I decided it was time to toss another advantage my way. “You know, Darla, I wanted to try it too, but when your mom says not to ask something, you shouldn’t.”
Jules had climbed up front at this point, and she lowered her head and glared at me over her shades.
“It could have been something you could hurt someone by asking, and so this is good practice to listen.” And now I was a parenting expert. At least, I felt that way.
Jules apparently didn’t agree. “We should go. Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I called in and said I’d be in around noon. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a lazy morning. It’s sort of agreeing with me. Plus, I have a date with a superstar.” I winked at Darla and then turned toward Jules. “Is it okay if we try Albert’s?” Smooth, I know.
“Sure.”
I pulled out and h
eaded back toward the water . . . the pricey side of town.
“Want to listen to music?” I hollered back to Darla.
When I saw her nod in the rearview, I flipped on some pop station. “She seems good.”
“Kids rally. They bounce back so easily, unlike us. I can’t afford to go down for the count.”
“You work too hard.”
Jules turned her gaze out the window and didn’t respond.
A tremor ran through my hand as I set it on her knee. I knew she wouldn’t want the contact in front of Darla, but I didn’t care.
As I expected, she gave me the evil eye, but I didn’t move my hand.
“I know you had to, but you don’t have to work so hard now. I know you don’t want my help, but it is my obligation.”
“You need to stay in your lane,” she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Move off my knee, and you’re pushing too much. The babysitting and sleepover were enough for now.”
“It’s not really babysitting when it’s your own kid.”
If I’d thought her earlier glare was evil, this one could kill.
“Shhh . . . stop. Please.”
I nodded and checked on Darla, who was bopping to the song in the back. “Who is this, superstar?”
“Taylor. I love her!”
I turned it up and pretended to dance and drive.
“Drew, you’re silly.” Darla giggled in the back.
I popped and locked with my right arm, leaving my left hand on the wheel, and she laughed out loud. My daughter.
My fucking daughter.
Jules still glared out the window, but I could see her trying to stifle a smile.
I sat in my office after bagels and another argument with Jules. She insisted on Molly staying with Darla. I thought she could come to my office for a while and then home with me.
I was pushing, but I didn’t care. Fuck it . . . this was my family.
The phone interrupted my thoughts.
“King here.”
“King, where the hell you been?”
“How ya doing, Sull?”
“I’m fan-fucking-tastic, been trying to track you down for two days. That fund is going through the roof.”
“Told you.”
“The wife is thrilled, said I can take her away now. Europe, so I don’t think I’m going to say thanks after all.”
Break Point Page 12
