“You didn’t think I wouldn’t, did you?”
“I hate to assume.”
“Babe, nothing can keep me away. Not tonight. Not ever.” His voice deepens. “I have plans for you, and none I’d consider sweet.”
Heat curls down my spine at his suggestiveness. “Don’t make empty promises, Mr. Carrigan.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll deliver.”
“Mommy!” My head turns to Trenna’s voice.
“Uh, I have to go.” I push to my feet and head to the hallway. “I’ll see ya tonight.”
After his goodbye, I place the phone on my dresser and beeline to the kitchen. My feet come to an abrupt halt at the sight of my family sitting around the table, smiling and talking. A weight settles on my heart at the remembrance of happier times. I straighten my shoulders and shake off the uneasiness Carl’s presence brings. “Wow, this looks great.”
“Sit, Mommy.”
“I can’t say no to that.”
Dinner passes without a hitch, but an awkwardness hangs in the air. I stay focused on the kids, but that deferment only lasts for so long. Once they finish, the twins skip off to play, leaving the three of us behind. I lean back in the chair and pick at the store-bought pumpkin pie. It’s decent, but the ones I make have a creamier texture.
“Not quite the same meal as the ones you cook.” He averts his gaze to the half-eaten slice of pie. At least he has the decency to look chagrined.
“Thanks, Carl. This was really thoughtful, but you need to give me notice so I don’t have to cancel plans at the last minute.” I stare at the man I had loved for eight years. His sandy-blond hair. Hazel eyes. He’s still attractive, but his actions have stained him. He may not have had a hundred percent of my heart, but I did love him. Once upon a time, he was my constant. My support. Gestures, like making sure I was taken care of, were what made me fall in love with him in the first place. I really thought I could depend on him.
“I knew you didn’t want to miss the holiday with the kids.” He lowered his head, and his next words are spoken so softly I have to strain to hear them. “I know I screwed things up, and for that, I’m truly sorry. I’m not sure if I ever told you that.”
Struck with sudden despair, I stare at my fork, picking away at the pumpkin filling. I’m tired of the fights, the arguments. “I don’t want to be angry anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
I raise my gaze to his. Those golden flecks that always captivated me beg for forgiveness. It would be so easy to go back to how things were. To roll over and forget the hurt from this past year. Bitterness fills my mouth as the image of the woman he cheated with flashes in my mind. Yeah, maybe not so easy to forget. But I’m tired of all this rage bubbling inside me. It sits and festers, consuming my everyday life. I release a long, steady stream of air.
“Truce?” I offer as a bargaining chip. “No more bickering back and forth.”
“I’d like that.” He draws a long breath. “I also want to discuss Christmas.”
Great. Here it is, the reason behind his kindness.
“Would you be opposed to me staying here Christmas Eve, again?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It worked out so well last year.”
“Yeah, but that was before…” I stop myself from saying Jax’s name. Jax acts like he wants to be serious, but I have no idea for how long. I half-expect our fling to end when he goes off to spring training. “Before the divorce was finalized.”
“I think the kids would benefit more from us being together. Less confusing for them.”
“You don’t think you being here would confuse them more?” I agreed with him last Christmas only because he was sharing an apartment with a friend. I didn’t want to burden his friend with the kids. For the most part, the day went well, but keeping my anger inside so the kids didn’t pick up on it was one of the hardest things I had to endure. This year, we’re officially divorced, and he has a permanent residence. It doesn’t make sense.
“Not at all. I know I deserve everything that comes to me, but I don’t want to miss our kids on Christmas morning.”
“I—” I flinch as the doorbell echoes into the kitchen. With a quick glance at the time, I’m a little confused. It’s too early to be Jax. I figured he’d come later after Carl would be gone. Of course, I never mentioned Carl staying.
“Expecting someone?” Carl’s eyes narrow as he asks the question.
“Mmm-hmm.” I stand but don’t mention names. Although I don’t know why. It hardly matters what Carl thinks. Jax is the one I’m more concerned about. Why didn’t I warn him about Carl staying to eat? The two despise each other. Then again, if Jax is up for dating me, he’ll have to accept the whole package—kids and an ex-husband.
“Hey.” Jax’s relaxed smile puts me at ease. His gaze slides to the driveway as I step aside to let him enter. “I take it I’m a little early.”
“Just a tad. I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”
“I can handle Carl.” His tone drips with arrogance. This should be interesting.
“How’s Nana?” I ask as I head back to the kitchen.
“She’s good. Wishes you well.” He stays a step behind and halts when he reaches the table.
“Jax.” Carl spits his name out as if he’s the black speck on top of bird crap.
Jax’s nostrils flare. “Carl.”
My stomach churns. Interesting indeed.
Chapter Seventeen
JAX
Current Day
I knew that asshole would be here trying to worm his way back in. Not happening, pal. You blew what you had with her, and the only person around here getting a second chance is me. I force my fingers to uncurl from the tight fist they’ve formed. On the drive here, I told myself not to let him get to me. But damn, Carl sitting at the head of the table, sporting that same smug look he had in college, makes me want to pummel him. Needing a distraction, I divert my attention toward Melanie.
“Mmm, is that pie good?” I ask.
“Yeah. Good.” Pumpkin filling coats her mouth as she gives me a toothy grin. She holds her spoon toward me. “Eat?”
Damn, kids are messy but so fucking cute. “That’s okay, sweetheart. You keep it.”
“Here, I’ll get you a slice.” Jocelyn pauses as she grabs a plate. “Unless you already had some with Nana?”
My chest may puff a little when Carl’s eyes narrow. He either doesn’t want her getting me pie, or he doesn’t like Nana’s name sliding off her tongue with familiarity. My bets on the latter. That’s right, asshole, we’ve gotten closer.
“No, I passed on dessert.” Probably because I ducked out of there before I got through the meal. It’s not as if I ditched Nana to come here. She practically threw me out. I’m not sure how she knew, but she told me to get my ass over here.
“Jax.” Tristan’s feet traipse across the floor toward me. When he reaches me, he raises his hand for a fist bump. “We surprised Mommy so she wouldn’t be alone.” He cocks his head. “Are you here to surprise her too?”
“You bet.” I bump his fist back, and his grin widens.
“Daddy, did you know Jax plays baseball like Zoe’s daddy?”
“Yeah.” His hand grips the fork so tightly his knuckles turn white. Hell, I don’t have to do anything to goad him. Tristan does enough damage for me. I shouldn’t love that as much as I do.
The pink tinge covering Jocelyn’s face as she sets the pie in front me snaps me back to the current situation. I won’t be a dick with her kids around. Trenna joins us, but she goes to stand beside her daddy. There aren’t any hi-ya, how ya doing, or any sort of acknowledgment, but at least she quit shooting daggers at me. I consider that a small victory. Score one for the markers.
“Hey, Trenna.”
Carl’s arm drapes around Trenna’s side, and he pulls her closer. Fair enough.
“Congratulations on winning the World Series. You had some great plays.” Carl’s words may be
nice, but his tone is anything but sincere. More condescending than anything. “Shame you didn’t win MVP, but Gregory Marquill was more than deserving.”
My fork stills halfway through the slice of pie. There it is, dig number one.
“That he is.” I proceed to take a bite, seemingly unfazed. Truth is, his words are unsettling.
“It was the closest voting since they started.” Jocelyn works at cleaning Melanie’s mouth. “Gregory edged past by only two votes. You should demand a recount.”
I laugh. Jocelyn sticking up for me is the cutest thing ever. But I don’t need her to fight my battles.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I lie. It’s kind of a big deal. I could almost taste that achievement.
“Still, it must’ve made you mad knowing you weren’t quite good enough.”
“Carl!”
“I sleep just fine.” I flick my hand in a dismissive wave. I don’t know what this asshole is going after, but he isn’t scoring points with anyone.
Jocelyn picks Melanie up and brings her into the front room so she can play.
“I don’t know what you’re hoping to gain by messing around with my wife, but I’ll always be around. This is my family.” His voice is barely audible, so I have to quit chewing to hear his measly threat.
The tapping of Jocelyn’s heels against the hardwood floors alerts me she’s close, so I don’t respond. Unlike him, I do have respect for Jocelyn.
“Your lifestyle must be hard with all the traveling. It’s not too family friendly. Not to mention all the women who throw themselves at you.”
I refuse to get into a pissing match with this douche. He may have monopolized Jocelyn’s time today, but I’ll be the one driving into her tonight while he jacks off to her memory. No disrespect to Jocelyn, but damn, this guy is such an ass.
“A lot of baseball players have families. They cope. As far as the girls go, sure, they’re around. It’s no secret I had my share, but”—I turn to meet Jocelyn’s gaze—“sometimes the right girl takes a while to find.”
Jocelyn bites back a grin as she goes over to the sink and wets a dishcloth. “Zach and Lacey don’t have any problems with him playing baseball. You know this.”
“I’m just say—”
“You’re being ridiculous. Where are you going with this anyway. It’s none of your concern. You don’t even like baseball, remember?”
Carl clamps his jaw shut, and a tic of his muscle appears. Being chastised by Jocelyn isn’t fun. I almost feel sorry for him.
“There’s some real sports on today. You a football fan?” Carl stands, stretches, and steps toward the living room.
Real sport. Pfft. Did I say I feel sorry for him? Hell, no. I’d like to place his pansy ass out in left field and let the summer heat smelt his ass like a piece of ore. See how real it gets for him.
I refrain from saying that, though. Instead, I flick my eyes to the kitchen sink. A small stack of dishes lines the counter. Jocelyn’s busy wiping down the high chair, and there lies his dirty dish on the table. He can’t even take his own plate to the sink. Seriously, how did she ever stay married to this selfish prick?
“Think I’ll stay behind and help with the dishes.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and heads straight to the recliner, which I assume used to be his. As he makes himself at home, I raise an eyebrow at Jocelyn. It isn’t my place to tell her what to do, and I certainly won’t tell her when to make her kids leave, but it appears this dickhead thinks he still has rights to this house.
“Carl, I think the kids are getting tired.” Her mouth presses together as she waits for him to answer.
The muscle in the side of his face tics again. This happens quite often, I notice.
He lets out a long grunt and pushes to his feet.
“Come on, kids, let’s get going. Mom needs to clean up.”
As an awkwardness descends, I go make myself useful and start on the dishes. Personally, I’m surprised he agreed to leave without much of an argument. The kids’ voices squeal, drowning out Jocelyn and Carl’s final goodbyes. Trenna must say something surprising because I hear Jocelyn’s sudden gasp, followed by her saying something about not realizing he told the kids already. I have no idea what that’s about, but by the way she raises her voice, I can tell the words jarred her.
I’m scrubbing the last plate when Jocelyn grabs a towel and starts drying.
“Sorry you had to endure that.” Her annoyance drips with each word. I rinse the plate under the tap and pass it to her.
“I think he wants you back. I’m surprised he didn’t whip out his dick and piss on me.”
“Good Lord.” Her chortled laugh fights against the worry snaking through me. No doubt I want to stake a claim on her for myself, and I’m serious about me being the one to get a second chance, but not at the expense of her kids’ happiness. Shit. This is why Zach wanted me to make sure what I wanted. Kids do bring dating to a whole other level.
I drain the soapy water and rinse my hands. With a deep intake of air, I brace my arms on the counter and grip the edge of the sink.
“If there’s the slightest chance of you getting back with your ex—”
“Don’t.” She places her hand on my left biceps. Her soft touch, her warmth, awakens my body as every inch of me craves her. My gaze travels up the see-through chiffon covering her arm, across to her brown curls cascading down her shoulders, along to her neck’s soft, delicate skin tantalizing my taste buds, until I meet her stare. My breathing accelerates as heat floods the reddish-brown depths of her eyes.
“I don’t love him anymore.” Her reassurance fuels the desire igniting inside me. I push off the sink and turn to face her. Her fingertips slide to my forearm leaving a path of tingles along their wake.
“I don’t want to be the reason your kids miss out on happiness. If there’s a chance that you’ll get back together—”
“No, there’s no chance.” A soft, steady stream of air escapes her mouth. “It’d be easy to fall back into our family dynamic, but at what cost? My happiness?” Her eyes glisten as they bore into mine. “I don’t want my kids growing up witnessing a loveless marriage. That’s the worst thing I could teach them.”
“Love between two people doesn’t die. Not completely.” I should stop while I’m winning and take her right now. Spin her around and drive into her until the only thoughts clouding her mind is me. But that would be wrong, and as much as it kills me, I need to be a hundred percent sure I’m who she wants. Her heart isn’t the only one that’s fragile. Her stare bores into mine as her next words bring me to my knees.
“I know that. More than you know.”
Chapter Eighteen
JOCELYN
Current Day
Fear paralyzes me in place. I barely breathe. I don’t even blink from the realization of baring my soul. For a beat, I think I lucked out and the meaning of my words never registered. But when the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his stare turns heated, I know he’s right there with me. He erases the distance and presses his lips to mine. His deep, guttural moan vibrates against my mouth, my chest, my core and awakens every desirable need I have.
The light touch from his fingers cupping my face magnifies the intensity between us as he pours every ounce of emotion behind his effort. I snake my hands around to his back and close my eyes, surrendering to the moment. Surrendering to him.
I’ve seen Jax flirty. I’ve seen him angry. But I’ve never seen his emotions so exposed. So raw. I’m not sure he realizes what he did, but his willingness to sacrifice his own needs and desires for my kids’ happiness doesn’t go unnoticed. The man thinks I’m unselfish, but he can’t be more wrong. He’s the selfless one. He just doesn’t see it.
Breaking away too early for my liking, he nuzzles against my neck. “I have to have you.” He nips and sucks along my skin.
“Yes.” I wrap a leg around his and rub my foot against the back of his calf. His hardness presses against my middle, and it ta
kes all my restraint not to attack him. He drops his hand to my hip and cups my ass cheek.
“Tell me.” His fingers slowly work the skirt material up my thigh as his mouth peppers small kisses along my neck. “Do you still masturbate?”
He swallows my gasp with a kiss. This one is a little harder with more intent. His palm skates across my bottom to the back of my thigh, holding it in place while his free hand lands on my other leg. He breaks the kiss and stares down at me. “Do you?”
With the slightest inclination, I nod, my chest rising and falling.
“Mmm.” His fingers sweep to my inner thigh leaving a wake of goose bumps. “Do you still think of me when you rub yourself?”
My “Yes” comes out in the form of a whimper.
“Good girl.” He skims his fingertips along the edge of my underwear, and it takes all my willpower not to scream take me now. I’m lost in an overwhelming sensation of need and a bit of desperation. True it’s been awhile, and I’m beyond ready, but this man brings out my most inner desires. I need him inside me.
“Tell me, Dixie. Do you scream my name when you come?” His fingers dip underneath the barrier and don’t stop until they’re coated with wetness. My wetness. I’m so fucking turned on, a moan escapes before I can rein it in. Shit, this is going to be way too fast.
“I knew you’d be deliciously wet.” His finger swirls and barely brushes against my core. My insides quiver with anticipation.
“Then take care of the problem.” I thrust my hips toward him.
His chuckle tickles my ear, heightening my nerves. “Bossy, huh? I like it, but I’m in charge tonight.”
Not giving me time to respond, he slips his finger inside my opening so fast he about sends me over the edge. I cry out in surprise, and I close my eyes while riding his hand. I’ll gladly hand over the reins tonight because I don’t want to worry about what to do. I don’t even want to think. I just want to feel.
His finger pumps back and forth a few times before he slips in another one. The extra fullness causes his name to fall from my lips in a half plea as I fist the back of his shirt. Heat builds in my lower half, until the pressure works its way upward, right on the brink of spilling over.
Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2) Page 14
