Stolen Nights (The Stolen Series Book 1)

by Renee Harless

  “Hey,” he calls out as he gets closer and I have to force myself to speak in return.

  Of course, I can’t form an actual civilized sentence. Something like, “Hey, I’m surprised to see you,” or something like that. No. Instead I spout out, “What are you doing mowing my yard at four in the morning?” Because apparently, I’m that kid in kindergarten that was mean to the other kid that they liked.

  Jackson halts and then looks at me confused before running one of his magnificent fingers through his hair.

  “Sorry, I’m covering some for my cousin. He’s sick. I have a lot of lawns to take care of today. Didn’t think you’d mind,” he adds smugly.

  On instinct my hands go straight to my hips, balling themselves into fists.

  “Well, I do mind. I have work to do and I can’t concentrate.” I leave out the fact that my concentration has little to do with the noise but more to do with the man himself.

  “Look, Elle. I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a choice. My next opening isn’t for two days and I’d really just like to get this done. And I promise this will be the last time. I have two new hires starting next week.”

  “New hires? I thought you owned the gym,” I ask puzzled.

  “Yeah, I happen to own two businesses. Sorry if that surprises you. I co-own this one with my cousin.” I open my mouth to apologize for sounding like a stuck-up brat but Jackson quickly tacks on, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to work. You can probably fit in a nap later, princess.”

  My mouth hangs open for a different reason this time, and as I work up my retaliation at the nickname, Jackson stuffs his earplugs back into his ears and walks back toward the weed eater sitting in the ditch.

  I would give anything to march right up to him and give him a piece of my mind, but instead, I take another minute to ogle him before turning around and heading inside. Might as well start my day.

  *

  It’s awful. All of it. I can’t even make a pound cake that doesn’t taste like something the kids would have concocted.

  “Mommy, why are you throwing out another cake? I want to eat the yummies,” Kennedy says from her perch at the table as she nibbles on some cereal.

  “I’m sure you would but it didn’t taste very good, sweetie. If I make one that tastes yummy I’ll share it with you.”

  “Everything you make tastes yummy, Mommy,” Noah chimes in and damn if that doesn’t just melt my heart. I could probably feed my kids scrapings from a pot and they would eat it. They do snack on chalk, glue sticks, and slime. . .because kids. Which probably doesn’t say much about my baking skills.

  “You’re sweet my little munchkin. Mommy is going to take a quick shower and then try this again. Now, what did we talk about?”

  “No going outside.”

  “Correct,” I say as I tap the tip of their noses with my index fingers covered in flour. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay, Mommy,” the kids reply as they both focus in on their electronic tablets.

  After wiping my hands on a dish towel, I make my way toward my bathroom, my need for a shower almost overwhelming me. Since my run-in with Jackson this morning, my skin has felt heated and overly sensitive. The silk of my camisole and shorts scrape against my skin and I have to stifle a gasp at the sensation. The coolness of the material against my warmth is almost shocking, but as I step under the pulsating spray of my shower, I realize my grave mistake. The water feels like tiny prickles all over my body; nips and pinches that run borderline between pain and pleasure.

  I lean my head back allowing the water to trickle down my neck, across my stomach, and between my legs. One of the streams of spray hits the bundle of nerves between my legs and my hand juts out to grasp the tiled wall. Bliss pours from my body with every vibration of the water on my clit. Closing my eyes, I try to picture Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans. Hell, right now I’d take any of the Avengers, but my mind instantly goes to my sexy as sin neighbor. The way his body moved in the early morning light. How even at the premature hour the sweat poured down his body. Sweat I wanted to lap with my tongue to see if he tasted sweet or salty.

  What would he look like having sex? Would he exert as much energy to please a woman? Would his body move the same way?

  I begin to imagine his fingers trailing the same path on my body as the water. His hands would sliver down my neck, the tips of his fingers tracing the delicate skin of my collarbone. They would then caress my breast testing their weight and rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, the feeling sending waves of pleasure to my core. Jackson’s mouth would join in on the exploration, his tongue needing a taste of the tight peaks as his hands trail down my stomach and hips to their destination between my legs. Almost as if he is there with me, I slide a finger across my center, reveling in the warmth exuding from my sex. Using my thumb, I gently run circles around my exposed clit as the water pulses against it.

  My orgasm comes quickly, almost shocking me back into reality. The bathroom is heavy with mist from the heat of my shower, and I cringe as I consider how long I must have been in here.

  On wobbly legs, I leave the shower and wrap myself in a towel. Peeking out from the door I’m relieved to find my kids still sitting like little angels at the table, both entranced with their devices. Thank goodness for small miracles.

  In my bedroom, I toss on my business attire consisting of a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. After my personal tryst in the shower, I feel a bit more relaxed, not so wound up. Maybe giving in to my desire for Jackson is what I needed. I usually try to ignore that I want him. That I want to feel him inside of me. But this morning I didn’t stop it. I let the thoughts and sensations run wild.

  With my newfound energy, I step into my kitchen and ask the kids to go outside and play before the day gets hot, reminding them that they need to stay in our yard and not to venture over to Jackson’s. Luckily I learned that Bailey is his brother’s dog and he was only dog-sitting, so I won’t have to worry about the kids bothering him.

  I look over three orders I need to finish, all simple recipes I’ve done over a hundred times. A batch of twenty miniature pound cakes, strawberry cupcakes, and a pineapple upside down cake. Easy peasy. Should be at least, but all were a disaster this morning, and I hate when I have to waste good ingredients. I also need to test out my recipe for Kennedy’s birthday cake for next weekend.

  My little princess will be turning four. Of course, it’s also the weekend before Noah starts kindergarten. Everything is changing around me and I’m just. . . here. Stuck in this little safe world I’ve crafted for myself. A place where I can’t get hurt.

  Three hours later I’m staring at my creations with a zealous smile on my face. They’re all complete and they’re all delicious. Finally. Maybe giving into my thoughts on Jackson was exactly what I needed.

  Stepping outside, I watch Noah push Kennedy on the swing and my heart soars. This is all I need. If all I’m given are dirty thoughts about Jackson to make my baking the best it can be then I’ll take it, because everything in my life should revolve around my kids.

  A few minutes later I join the kids in their clubhouse and we have a makeshift tea party, which Noah protects with his soldier action figures. I hear my name being called from the house and I realize that Sara is paying us an unexpected visit. We haven’t seen her since dinner about two weeks ago.

  “Hey, we’re out here!” I shout as she steps onto the back deck.

  Sara walks over to us as I am making my way down the ladder.

  “Guys, y’all play nice. I’m going to chat with Miss Sara, okay?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” they reply, and I smile up at them from their lair.

  “Hey, what an unexpected surprise,” I say to Sara as we exchange a hug.

  “Hey. So, can we talk?” she asks with a solemn expression, and I instantly know that whatever she has to say is not good.

  “Yeah.”

  I guide her into the house and we take a seat at the kitch
en table, me facing the yard so I can still watch the kids.

  “Elle, this is important,” Sara says, which immediately gets my attention, and by her expression I know that whatever she has to say is going to change everything.

  “What’s up?”

  “So, you know how part of the divorce agreement is that Dan needed to continue to carry both children on his insurance?”

  Dread begins to fill me as I nod in understanding.

  “Well, the court received communication from the insurance company that he has taken the liberty to remove coverage for Noah and Kennedy. Apparently, he didn’t realize that the court would be made privy to his decision. Idiot.”

  “Why didn’t the hospital say anything when they ran the card? They had me pay the coinsurance.”

  “I don’t know. Most of that information is printed on the card and some hospitals don’t run insurance for billing until after.”

  “Sara, what am I going to do? I can only afford insurance for myself and I won’t be able to add the kids with the way my business is going right now.”

  “Well, first and foremost, the judge is going to make sure that Dan reinstates the insurance or he is going to have to pay you whatever your coverage for them would be. But that means we’re going to have to go back to court.”

  “Court?” God, I’m so tired of court. All I want is for all of this to be over. All I want is Dan out of my life.

  “I’m so sorry, Elle. I don’t know why he is doing this.”

  I snake my hands through my hair in exasperation. “He’s doing this because he wants to torment me. This means he has to stay in my life. It was bad enough I had to invite him to Kennedy’s party next weekend. I can promise you that he and his family want nothing to do with me and the kids.”

  “I wish I had better news.”

  “It’s not your fault. I guess I know what I’ll be doing this afternoon.”

  Sara leaves a little after lunch, having ordered sandwiches for all of us. As we ate, Kennedy told her all about the unicorn party she’s having next week. I had wanted to set her up with a unicorn photo session I had seen one day scrolling through social media, but after seeing the price tag, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to afford it. Hell, I can’t even afford to do a regular photo shoot. Keeping the utilities covered is taking about everything in my bank account. My trust was pretty much drained in the divorce, just a little backup savings for an emergency sits there now.

  Leaving the kids in their rooms for quiet time, Noah reading a book and Kennedy watching a learning video, I go to check the mail, hoping for a glimpse of Jackson to brighten my day but I’m not so lucky. As I pull the envelopes from the mailbox, I realize that I must be one of the unluckiest people on earth.

  A bill from the hospital sits heavy in my hand. I should have expected it; I’m not sure why I haven’t. I go inside and tear through the envelope. When I see the amount I drop the bill on the table as if it will scald me. A bill for over thirty-five thousand dollars glares back at me as if expecting a response.

  “Hey, Mommy,” a soft voice calls out from the hallway. “Can you read me a book?” Kennedy asks rubbing her eyes. My brave little girl who had some sort of infection and is finally finished with her medication from her visit to the Emergency Department.

  “Sure.” I smile warmly at her. How I’m going to pay the bill, I’m not sure, but I am sure that I can shower my kids with all the love that I have. All that Dan hasn’t destroyed.

  *

  Sitting at the kitchen table under a single pendant light, I feel like the stereotypical single parent wondering how they’re going to make ends meet. The kids had begged and pleaded for another book at bedtime and I caved. I couldn’t deny them anything tonight. Now they’re both safely tucked into their beds and the sun ducks itself behind the night sky as evening falls around my house.

  I don’t hear the cicadas buzzing outside or the birds whistling their goodnights. All I hear is the pounding in my ears as I stare at the hospital invoice. I had texted Sara earlier and asked her what I needed to do, but she wasn’t sure. I have the option of waiting until a judge has Dan reinstate the insurance, but that doesn’t mean the insurance will accept the service date. I can contact the hospital and ask for a payment plan, but because of my available income, they may deny it. So I can either pay now or hold out hope that the judge and the insurance company will rectify the situation.

  Scattering the papers from the divorce, the bill, and my current bank statements across the table, I finally give in to my emotions. With my elbows on the table, I rest my face in the palms of my hands and let the devastating sobs control me. I can feel each break, each wave of sorrow rush through me. My body shakes and lurches with each gasp of air.

  “Elle?” I hear from behind me, and I quickly turn in surprise to find Jackson standing inside my sliding glass door with an alarmed look on his face. I try to wipe away the tears that have soaked my face, but I know that it’s no use trying to disguise my emotions. Dan always said I was an ugly crier and my skin turned the color of a tomato when I was upset.

  “Sorry, the door was unlocked. I have the invoice for the lawn,” he explains as he holds out a printed invoice. “I figured it was easier this way than mailing it. Being neighbors and all,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood but I stare at the paper like it’s going to give me a disease. “Are you okay?”

  That question gets my attention.

  Looking at Jackson, I ask cynically, “Am I okay? Let me ask you something, Jackson. Have you ever been divorced?”

  He steps into the kitchen fully,and as he tugs one of the chairs closer to me to sit down, he says, “No. Can’t say that I have.”

  “Well, it sucks. Especially when he wants everything of mine but his own kids. It doesn’t matter that the judge requires visitation and for him to cover them on his insurance. Now I’m stuck with this god awful bill and no way to pay it,” I cry out hysterically as I shove the bill toward him and explain everything Sara mentioned earlier. “They’re gonna come take my kids away from me because I’m a terrible mother and I can’t take care of them.”

  I hide behind my hands once more as I allow my tears to fall. Hot, heavy tears of despair. I don’t notice that his eyes widen at the size of the bill from the hospital or that he grabs a box of tissues from the countertop by the sink.

  “Hey,” he says kindly, and I look over at him as he holds the box in my direction. Snagging a tissue, I wipe at my face, wondering how awful I must look to him or whether he thinks I’m a crazy person. With my luck, he’ll probably put his house on the market tomorrow.

  “I can help you with this bill, Elle.”

  “What?” I whisper because I have clearly misheard him.

  “It’s not your fault that you assumed your kids were insured. I can pay the bill for you while you wait for the court to figure out this shit with your ex. And when the insurance figures it all out, you can pay me back. It’s no big deal.”

  “Are you serious right now? It is a big deal. That’s a lot of freaking money, Jackson. And you hate me, remember?”

  “It’s really not. I have two businesses. I make pretty decent money and I barely spend any of it. And I don’t hate you,” he says warmly as he brushes back a few loose strands of my hair and tucks them behind my ear.

  “I can sell you a car,” I blurt out unexpectedly, surprising both Jackson and myself.

  “I don’t need your car. And clearly, you do,” he replies as he gazes at me with a strange look.

  “No, I have a classic, fully restored Mustang. It was a gift from my grandfather. It’s all I have left of him. I can sell it to you. I’m sure it’s worth at least half of what I would owe you. You can do whatever you want with it.”

  “I’m not taking the car, Elle.”

  “Let me give you something. Anything. Please,” I plead.

  “Kiss me.”

  Well, that is not what I was expecting to hear. Surprised, I look over at him and search hi
s eyes, shocked to find sincerity and something akin to desire swirling in his irises.

  “You want a kiss. . .from me. . .in exchange for paying my hospital bill? At least until I can pay you back. Seems kind of one-sided,” I mumble.

  He leans in closer, and my nose fills with his overwhelming scent, and at that moment I almost wish that he had asked for more than just a kiss.

  “Kiss me, Elle,” he demands as his nose brushes against mine and I’m lost. So lost in the thought of pressing my lips against his and running my fingers through his hair that I don’t realize he’s pulled me even closer, our breath mingling in the small space between us.

  Closing my eyes, I lean that inch closer pressing my mouth against his. We stay like that for a moment, an innocent peck between two acquaintances, but then the air shifts. Jackson tilts his head slightly and his lips brush across mine at the same time his hand twines itself in my hair causing a gasp to escape between my lips.

  As my mouth opens, Jackson’s tongue sneaks past the opening and grazes against my own. The touch is minuscule but it erupts something inside of me.

  Without hesitation I reach out and place my hands on Jackson’s shoulders, running them down his biceps and around to his back. He shifts his body, bringing himself impossibly closer as he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me onto his lap effortlessly.

  God, how long has it been since I’ve been held this way? Desired this way? Months? Years? All I know is that at this moment I have never felt as coveted as I do right now.

  Our kiss goes on for minutes, remarkable moments in time that electrify my body. I want more, need more, but a small cry from down the hall has us pulling apart in surprise, both of us needing a second to remember where we are. Who we are.

  “Mommy?” the soft voice beckons from her room drawing my attention as Jackson quietly deposits me back onto my chair.