The Suit (The Bro Series Book 3)

by Xavier Neal

  “I love Loca Mocha Casabloca. It’s where I get my coffee.”

  “Coffee’s gross,” Hattie gags.

  He lightly laughs and waits until the sound of her tablet game fills the vehicle once again. Afterwards, his attention falls back to me. “What if I want to pick her up from school one day to spend time with her? To take her for a milkshake or hot chocolate? Or what if there’s an emergency and Jennie or your mom, who I am assuming is the emergency contact, can’t get to her?”

  “There is no situation where I wouldn’t drop everything for a Hattie related emergency.”

  Pax’s frustration flares his eyes. It takes a moment for him to recollect his composure, and I find myself slightly smirking that I’m not the only one having a difficult time with the conversation. “Let’s stick to my first scenario. What if I want to spend quality time with her?”

  The urge to swoon strengthens.

  “I need to know what it is I’m being cautious of. I’d never wanna endanger her life.”

  His statement has my lips moving on their own volition. “She has ketotic hypoglycemia.”

  “Low blood sugar.”

  “Yes. But it’s more complicated than that. While it’s not as bad as when she was younger, her body still has trouble functioning after an extended amount of time without eating. She needs to eat about every two hours otherwise she gets very lethargic, and if she goes too long without enough food, she could have a seizure or possibly pass out. The latter, thankfully, has only happened once, but...” My attention floats off into the distance recalling the day I thought I might not ever see her open her eyes again. Fear, rage, and sadness momentarily swirl around my mind until I shake them away. “Look, it’s more difficult than you think making sure she eats enough every day. Between not finishing her lunch at school,” I turn around to give her a scolding look that she ignores, “and getting so busy in Lego Land that she forgets-”

  “Minecraft, mom. It’s called Minecraft.”

  “Favorite game?”

  Hattie’s entire complexion suddenly glows. “I love it! I love it! I love it! Mom hates it.”

  “With a passion.” I casually interject. “Just play with your real life Legos.”

  Paxton lets out a hearty laugh, and I helplessly drown in it.

  How can any person possess the power to look sexy no matter the action? How is it not illegal to be this attractive? God, if it’s sexy to hear him scold and laugh, I wonder if he’d somehow manage to look sexy when he’s sad too.

  Yikes. Gotta get my shit together. That is definitely not a rational line of thinking.

  “I play it all the time at Dad’s,” my daughter brags.

  Pax prepares to pull up to another stoplight. “He likes to play with you?”

  “No.” Hattie quickly shakes her head, attention dropping back down to her tablet, her distinctive defensive reaction heart breaking.

  I don’t like putting words in my daughter’s mouth, but I think she hates him. And hates me for making her spend time with him. Despite how many times I’ve tried to explain to her, I don’t want her to go over there any more than she wants to, she still doesn’t forgive me for making her spend a few hours with him once a week. I wish she could grasp the concept that I hate it even more than she does. Not just because she never comes back without mysterious new bumps or bruises, that Dan believes no judge will believe are signs of abuse, but because Jesse is not her father. He’s simply the monster in the dark that took something that didn’t belong to him and shouldn’t be entitled to terrorizing the two of us.

  My phone vibrates in my lap at the same time Hattie quietly mutters, “He’s usually on the phone talking to a special friend or in his room with a special friend we picked up. He says it keeps me quiet. That I should always be quiet.”

  Anger begins to boil to the surface at the new information.

  Why am I not fucking surprised? And special friend? Is he fucking random women when he should be spending time with his daughter?!

  Pax’s grip on the steering wheel noticeably tightens yet his voice remains call. “Wanna teach me to play, Hattie?”

  Her head instantly pops back so their eyes can meet in the rearview mirror. “That’d be soooo cool!”

  “Then we’ll do that on our next day together.”

  Hattie kicks her tiny feet in excitement, which is when I hit him with a displeased expression.

  As soon as the sound of Fruit Ninja returns, I quietly reprimand, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Paxton.”

  Despite the fact our light turns green, he pins me in place with a hard stare. “I don’t plan on it.”

  Overwhelmed by his commitment, dedication and the natural way he seems to just be slipping into my life, I quickly look away, unsure of what to say.

  How is it he already seems so invested in us? How do I protect my little girl when he randomly changes his mind? When he decides playing house isn’t fun or puts a cramp in his social life?

  I check the two text messages waiting for me.

  Jesse: CS $ late this month.

  What the fuck else is new?

  Eden: There is nothing wrong with having sex on the first date! Beat the statistics!

  Her unusual, unnecessary comment cracks a needed smile back onto my complexion.

  About five minutes later, Paxton parks outside of a one-story brick home and announces, “We’re here.”

  “Friend’s house? You’re having your friend make us dinner?”

  “Nope. This is Swinging Sushi. A couple repurposed this place to be a small family friendly sushi restaurant. They turned the entire backyard area into a haven filled for kids. There’s playgrounds. Sandboxes. A swing set-”

  “Can we go swing first?!” Hattie excitedly interrupts. “Please! Please! Please!”

  Pax unbuckles his seatbelt, smiles wide, and turns around to face her. “You have to leave the tablet in the car.”

  “Okay!” She tosses the device on top of the blanket beside her.

  Whoa. I don’t remember the last time I didn’t have to wrestle the device out of her hands once she had it or the last time she was this enthusiastic to play with someone who wasn’t Eden. As far as the tablet goes, I’ve learned if we don’t start the day or the car ride with it, she’s fine, but if she’s had time on it, she becomes unbearable when it gets taken away. It’s one reason I’m hesitant about letting her play on it, but with all the uncertainty surrounding this date it seemed like a good idea.

  The three of us get out of the Range Rover and stroll to the front door together. Hattie wedges herself between us and instead of complaining, Pax showers her with all the attention it is obvious she’s craving.

  Once the hostess has our name, she leads us to a table on the back patio. At one look of the lush backyard that seems to stretch for miles, my jaw hits the ground, continuing to be impressed.

  “Let’s swing!” Hattie insists, clutching Pax’s hand.

  Without objection he allows for her to drag him to the empty area.

  I settle my purse in the chair and apologize to the waitress, “I’m sorry they just abandoned the table like that. I-”

  “It’s fine ma’am,” the young, blonde female exclaims. “Happens all the time. Feel free to join them, and I’ll be back whenever you all are ready. My name is Ally.”

  “Thank you, Ally.”

  She offers me a nod and moves onto the nearest table, which is a few feet away.

  Quickly, I rush across the grassy area, thankful I decided on flats, and meet up with my giggling daughter and grinning date.

  “Higher!” She demands like some sort of heathen.

  “Not too high,” I instantly fret.

  “Wanna reach the moon?” Pax’s jovial attitude receives more giggles.

  “Mars!”

  “How about Jupiter?”

  “Yeah! Higher! Higher!”

  “Manners, Hattie.”

  “Push me higher, please,” she swiftly corrects.

&nb
sp; Pax does as instructed, the smile on his face never fading.

  “Come swing,” he commands, wiggling the seat beside her. “I’ll push.”

  I toss him a look of refusal.

  He throws me one of requirement.

  Our silent struggle last for only seconds, yet it feels like we’re engaged in a screaming match for hours.

  Deciding to be compliant rather than make a huge scene in front of Hattie, I march over to the swings, flop down in the seat, and huff, “I can push myself.”

  “But Pax can push you higher, Mom! He’s like the Incredible Hulk!”

  He happily chuckles. “Hey! I’m not green!”

  His hand lands on my ass to begin pushing, and I chomp down on my bottom lip to prevent a moan.

  More like the Incredible Hunk…

  Ugh.

  Damn it.

  Pax effortlessly oscillates his movements between pushing both of us. The swing set squeaks its disapproval of the force he’s using and worry actively sets in. I start to express my concern when I catch a glimpse of Hattie’s carefree face.

  God, when was the last time she warmed up to anyone like this?

  When was the last time we got out of the house together and just…played?

  Hattie’s superhero teases continue, and Pax merely laughs at the appropriate times.

  His hand constantly caressing my backside for split seconds causes my entire body to break out in a thick sweat not even the summer heat could cause.

  Eventually, Pax pulls our swings to a careful stop, which spurs Hattie to question, “Can we race down the slide now?”

  “Don’t you think we should order dinner before we keep playing?” Pax cleverly tries to coax.

  Her brown eyes peer up at him in all their glory. “Please?”

  His large frame completely melts at the word.

  Huh. Looks like she has him wound around her finger already.

  “How about you race me?” I suggest to my daughter. “And Pax can stand at the end of the slide to catch the winner?”

  “I’m gonna win!” Hattie brags, hopping up and rushing towards the playground area a couple feet over.

  Hastily, I rush after her, the sound of our date laughing, trailing close behind me.

  Hattie manages to reach the pebbled area before me but slows down when the rocks slide into her Hello Kitty flip flops. She struggles to wiggle them out. The action inevitably allows me time to catch up. Side by side we race up the large brown steps. Her giggles soar through the air, and the sight of seeing her so happy swells my chest. We arrive at the pinnacle in sync, yet I hold back at the last moment to guarantee she’ll win.

  The moment she lands at the bottom, Pax swoops her up, tosses her in the air, and effortlessly catches her. More giggles spring from parted lips before she taunts, “Told ya!”

  I pull myself off the edge of the slide that is clearly not designed for adults with hips. “What does Mom always say about that kind of attitude, princess?”

  She gives me an apologetic smile. “Win with grace.”

  “That’s right.”

  Her head casually lands on Pax’s shoulder and the sight nearly gives me a heart attack.

  My daughter’s never this level of friendly to people she doesn’t know. Polite. Kind. Courteous. Well, as courteous as a six year old can be, but overly affectionate? Nope. It took her five visits with my new step dad before she would even sit on the same couch with him. What’s happening here?

  How is he casting a magical spell on both of us?

  We trek back to the table in comfortable silence. Once we’re settled, Hattie in the seat beside me, the waitress returns to take our drink orders and deliver my daughter an activity book.

  “Red or white?” Pax questions to me in obvious reference to wine.

  Unsure, since I have just opened my menu, I casually say, “Whatever you think is best.”

  A small smirk appears unexpectedly on his lips. Before I have time to question it, he removes my menu from my hands, stacks it on his, and hands them back to the waitress. “We’ll have the white tuna plate to share with glasses of your most expensive prosecco.” His attention falls to the six year old attempting to play tic-tac-toe by herself. “What about you, Hattie Pattie? Apple juice or fruit punch?”

  “Milk.”

  “White or chocolate?”

  “Chocolate’s better.”

  Pax shoots me a wink.

  Cheekiness is cute, but so not needed right now.

  “Fish sticks?”

  She offers him a nod.

  “Fries or corn?”

  “Fries.”

  His eyes land on the waitress once again. “That’ll be all, Ally.”

  She gives us a polite nod of understanding and scurries away.

  A stern expression slithers onto my face. “My statement was meant for just the wine.”

  He adjusts his suit jacket. “You should’ve been more specific.”

  “You shouldn’t just assume I’ll let you take the lead.”

  To my surprise, he counters, “I don’t wanna take the lead. I wanna earn it.”

  The phrasing receives a contemplative hum.

  “You’re gonna have to learn to trust me or someone else,” his eyes grab a glimpse of Hattie, “never completely will.”

  “Trust is built, Paxton. It’s like Rome. It doesn’t happen in a day.”

  “Fair point.” He folds his large palms together. “However, have I not earned the right to the amount I’m asking for?”

  “I-”

  “To treat you to the best meal they have to offer?”

  “I-”

  “To do everything within my power to prevent your first meal with me from being a disappointment?”

  “Well-”

  “To allow you to spend more time enjoying the evening than stressing over something insignificant such as the menu?”

  His point of view closes my mouth.

  Paxton clears his throat and does his best to calm back down. “Perhaps, I was out of line. I’ll have Ally bring back the menu. I-”

  “No,” I promptly cut him off. “It’s fine.” Setting one arm on the back of Hattie’s chair, I let out a soft sigh. “You had what you believed to be my best interest at heart. I can respect that. Besides, I’m…up for trying something new.”

  In more than one way…

  The corner of his lip tugs upward.

  “I don’t get to go to places like this often.”

  Hattie taps on my hand to color the tiger with her.

  “Why not?”

  “Honestly? They’re a waste of my money. I mean, I used to like trying new foods and restaurants, but it’s hard to justify it when I’m not sure Hattie’s gonna like anything, and we just have to stop for fast food, anyway. I don’t exactly have the resources or time to throw around like that, so we eat typically at places I know she’s a fan of or at home.”

  Pax reaches across the table for the green crayon to join in the coloring. “I understand where you’re coming from.”

  Hattie mumbles something to me about not coloring the tail red while my date continues to talk.

  “But you’re not wasting anything with me. Whether Hattie loves it or hates it. Whether she wants seconds or to stop at Wendy’s on the way home, I’m happily spending my money. So indulge.”

  I give him a shy glance.

  “Drink whatever. Top shelf. Bottom shelf. The eighty-dollar lobster. Just enjoy yourself, Buttercup. That’s the only priority I have for our time together.”

  “Pax, you can’t color the sun green!” Hattie scolds.

  He gives me a warm smile and then sends it her way. “The sun’s not green?”

  “No!”

  “You sure?”

  “So sure!”

  “But I’m the Incredible Hulk, remember? Everything I see is green.”

  “No-huh.”

  “Pretty sure…”

  “No-huh. He just turns green. He doesn’t see green.”
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  “You know, you’re pretty smart to only be sixteen.”