Playing with Fire

by Lexi Ryan

  “She stayed awake the whole flight,” Meredith says from the doorway. “She couldn’t stop talking about all the things she and Daddy were going to do together when she got home.”

  Claire wiggles in my arms. “Let me down, Daddy. I wanna visit my dollies. I missed them!”

  I reluctantly lower her to the floor and let her go. She bolts down the hallway to her room, leaving her mother behind.

  “I have to give you props,” Meredith says. “It’s not easy single-parenting that ball of fire.”

  I shrug. “I don’t really do it alone. Mom’s a big help, and I get breaks when you’re around.”

  She bites her lip and folds her arms. “We had a good time. She’s amazing—not that I can take much credit for that.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  Tears fill her eyes and a couple spill over. “Am I? I’ve spent the last two years putting my career before my own daughter every step of the way.”

  “Mer, stop beating yourself up. You didn’t abandon her.” I shake my head and pull her into my arms. “Every day, there are countless men who entrust their children’s care with the mother while they pursue their career. They make time to call and visit and are called good fathers. A mom does it, and it’s abandonment?”

  She sniffs against my chest. “Jesus, you’re a nice guy.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they tell me.”

  “Seriously, you always know the right thing to say.” She pulls out of my arms and wipes away her tears. “Screwing up with you is truly my biggest regret, and any woman who doesn’t see you for the amazing man you are is as stupid as I was.”

  “Being a good guy doesn’t mean you’re any good at relationships.” And saving the girl doesn’t mean you get to keep her for yourself.

  “I read about what happened online. That’s intense stuff. Is your doctor okay?”

  “She will be.”

  Meredith takes a deep breath. “I have a confession. I’m making the move permanent next time I return to Paris. I love it there and I want to put down roots. I was thinking of asking you to let me move her with me, but after these last few weeks I just can’t. She adores you, Max.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” I say, but there’s a fist clenching my chest at the idea of losing my daughter.

  “Once I made my decision to give you full custody, I just knew it was right.” She exhales slowly and forces a smile. “Isn’t that crazy? How sometimes you just know? And frankly, I kind of like being the non-custodial parent. It’s all the fun stuff without the daily grind, ya know?”

  “I would have fought you for her.”

  “Yeah. I know. Kind of relieved I don’t have to go up against Papa Bear.”

  “Yoo-hoo!” Claire calls, poking her dark mop of hair out into the hall. “Mommy, come see my new room!”

  Meredith grins. “I’m coming, sweetie. Just a minute.” When Claire disappears back into her room, Meredith says, “So what’s going to happen with you and Phoenix? Is she moving in with you?”

  “Isn’t there some step between breaking up and moving in together?”

  Her face goes soft. “She broke up with you? I’m sorry, Max.”

  “Don’t be. I rushed things and scared her off, but I’ll find a way to fix it if I can.”

  “Mom-my!” Claire calls again.

  “Coming!”

  Meredith is halfway to Claire’s room when Claire bursts into the hallway shouting, “Tree house! Tree house! Tree house! Mommy! Daddy built me a tree house!” And then she’s darting to the back of the house and out into the backyard.

  Meredith props her hands on her hips. “You couldn’t just settle for being her hero, could you?” she asks, smiling. “You had to build her a flipping tree house and elevate your status to super hero.”

  I shrug. “Come on out and see how awesome I am.”

  We follow Claire to the back, and she’s already halfway up the ladder.

  “Jesus,” Meredith mutters when she sees it. “What’d you do, take that straight out of your own childhood fantasies?”

  I grin as Claire hits the top of the ladder and climbs inside. “Pretty much.”

  “Oh my goodness, Daddy!” Claire calls. “I love it so much!”

  “I’m going up.” Meredith heads for the ladder, and I follow.

  Claire is inside spinning circles, and I have to blink when I see what has her so captivated. The inside of the tree house has been decorated. Swathes of shimmery pink fabric are draped from corner to corner, and tiny battery-operated white lights illuminate the edges of the floor.

  “Holy cow,” Meredith says. “This is amazing.”

  “No kidding,” I mutter. Then something catches in my throat as I see the wooden signs hanging on either side of the tree house window. One says, “50% Princess – 50% Tomboy – 100% AWESOME” and the other says, “Future Doctor in Training.”

  “Oh my God, Max, where did you find those signs? They are so Claire.”

  “They are,” I whisper, but my chest is too tight to say more. Nix did this. Nix came up here and decorated this tree house for my little girl. If she didn’t already have my heart, that would do it.

  “Look, Mommy!” Claire opens a rhinestone-encrusted pink chest. “Doctor tools! Just like Doc McStuffins! Thank you, Daddy!”

  “They’re not from me,” I say, my voice gruff. “I built the tree house, but I’m not the one who put this stuff in here.”

  Claire doesn’t care—she’s too busy giving herself a pretend injection—but Meredith turns to me and frowns. “Then who did?”

  There’s not a doubt in my mind. “Nix.”

  That gets Claire’s attention. “Dr. Nix? I love Dr. Nix!”

  “Me too, sweetie,” I whisper so softly Claire can’t hear, but Meredith does, and she reaches over and squeezes my forearm.

  “She obviously has feelings for you too, Max. A woman doesn’t do this kind of thing for the daughter of a man she isn’t interested in.”

  * * *

  Nix

  “Everything is good,” Amy tells our mother.

  “God took care of us,” Mom says, nodding. “He brought my Phoenix home to save me, even when I doubted my own daughter.”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” I say, but my voice catches and the words come out as a whisper. I draw in a deep breath and look out the pretty picture window that looks out onto the hospital courtyard. My mom had a meltdown the night of the fire and had to be admitted, but luckily I was able to find this residential facility in Indianapolis where they take a progressive approach to conditions like my mom’s. She’ll never be “cured” of her schizophrenia, but with the proper care, medication, and treatment, she should be able to live her life without being trapped in the prison of her own mind. Maybe someday she can live “outside” without being crippled by fear.

  “Where are you staying, Amy?” Mom asks.

  Amy squeezes Mom’s hand and looks at me. “I moved in with Phoenix for now. The town where Phee Phee lives is beautiful. There’s a river and this cute little downtown area with an art gallery and a bakery with the most amazing chocolate croissants. I found a new church already. Phee Phee is going to help me get a job and my own place eventually.”

  “You’re a good sister,” Mom says, and her simple nod of approval leaves a lump in my throat.

  It’s been five days, but I still don’t think all the adrenaline has left my system. Jeremiah is in police custody, and has a laundry list of charges against him—including Kent’s murder and arson—and Cade tells me he won’t see life outside of a jail cell for a very, very long time.

  Patrick passed away in the hospital the night after the fire. Part of me believes that once his father was caught, he knew he could rest. And although I’ll never understand why he handled things the way he did, I know he loved me and was trying to do right by me, in his own misguided way.

  “How’s that man?” Mom asks. “The one who saved us?”

  “Max is fine.” The lump in
my throat grows. I haven’t seen much of Max since the night at the church. Between getting my mother settled at the mental health facility, moving Amy into my guest bedroom, and the many hours I’ve spent answering questions at the police station, we haven’t had the time to have the heart-to-heart we really need.

  “Phoenix is in love with him,” Amy tells Mom. “I told her she needs to marry him before some other girl steals him away, but she doesn’t listen.”

  Mom smiles. “She never did.”

  “His daughter has been away for weeks,” I say. “She just got home a few days ago.” I shake my head. I don’t know why I’m trying to explain myself to these two. “He has more important things to think about right now, but I have plans to see him tonight.” Not just Max. A bunch of us are going out for drinks after work, per the request of the new bride, who returned from her honeymoon this morning, heard about what she missed while she was gone, and declared a need for “friend time.”

  “Nix arranged for a surprise for Max’s little girl,” Amy says. “So excited about that!”

  Mom folds her hands on her lap and studies us as tears well in her eyes. “It’s so good to see my girls together again.”

  “I’ve missed you both,” I say. “I should have come for you years ago.”

  “Don’t put that on yourself,” Mom says. A tear rolls down her cheek. “We were stubborn. We didn’t see Jeremiah for the man he really is. The devil is tricky like that.”

  “All that matters,” Amy says, “is that we’re together now.”

  * * *

  Nix

  “I guess I still don’t know what that text message was supposed to mean,” Cade says.

  Most of our group has left our table to play pool, and it’s only Cade, Max, and I left with our beers and the strange bond of people who survived a crisis together.

  “The text Nix sent?” Max looks at me and grins.

  “What did it say?” I ask. “I don’t even remember what I wrote anymore.”

  Max props his elbows on the table and leans forward. “I believe it said, Turn right off Highway 59, just past the old Robinson Park barn. You’ll see the church. Bring help. Expect fire. Stallions optional.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember now.” I cut my gaze to Max then turn to Cade. “Max likes to rescue damsels in distress. When I was preparing to walk into that church, I thought I might qualify.”

  Cade cocks a brow, clearly still not getting our little inside joke, but whatever. I don’t bother explaining.

  Max swallows. “I’m just glad you asked for our help.”

  “Yeah, I tried it without last time and it didn’t go so well. Patrick told me I needed to destroy Camelot to escape it. He thought with fire, but I figured out a better way.”

  “Here’s to a better way,” Cade says, lifting his beer.

  “A better way,” Max echoes.

  We clink our glasses and I drain the rest of my beer, then settle my glass on the table and stand. “I better get out of here. Early rounds.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Max says.

  We head out of the bar side by side but not touching, and neither of us speaks until we reach my car, then we both talk at the same time.

  “Listen, I—” I start as he says, “Nix, would—”

  We laugh—not the easy kind, but the kind with all the sexually charged, angsty awkwardness.

  “Thank you for what you did for Claire,” he says.

  I smile. “Did she like it? Amy helped. I’m not so great at the girly stuff, though I am the one who picked out the signs.”

  “She loves it. And I love it. It’s perfect for her.”

  “You must feel complete again now that she’s home.”

  His eyes go sad and search my face. “Not exactly.”

  I lift my hand, hesitant but desperate to touch him. I brush my fingers down the stubble along his jaw. “I miss you.”

  Grabbing my wrist, he turns his face into my hand and kisses the inside of my palm. “Then go out with me. I’ll buy you dinner. What? Why are you frowning?”

  I tug my lip between my teeth and shrug.

  “Doc?”

  “I heard you tell Cade that Claire was at your mom’s tonight. I was kind of hoping you’d ask me to go home with you, but I’d take a date in public too. I guess maybe I need to earn my way back into your bed after lying to your face.”

  He swallows hard. “Which part was the lie?”

  “Don’t you know?” I whisper.

  “I want you to say it.”

  “I am so pathetically, desperately, irrevocably in love with you.”

  “Hmm.” He steps closer and dips his head so his lips hover just above mine. “I don’t know. What about amazingly and awesomely?”

  I giggle. “Those are terrible word choices. How about completely? You take away my ragged edges too, Max. And I’m so sorry I thought I had to make you believe otherwise.”

  Then he kisses me, and damn can this boy kiss. His hands go into my hair and his mouth slants over mine, and I think I might melt right here in his arms.

  “Complete,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Suddenly that word feels right. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Tears slide down my cheeks, and they feel foreign and beautiful. “Awesomely and amazingly.”

  “That’s more like it.” Then, as he kisses me again, his arms snake around my body and his hands grab my ass.

  I hear someone shout at us to get a room, and I’m pretty sure it’s Krystal, but I don’t care enough to check.

  Epilogue

  Cade

  Two months later…

  I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween. Too much bad shit goes down when people have an excuse to pretend to be someone else for a night. But here I am. Playing the wallflower at a fucking costume party because two of my best friends begged me to come.

  I watch Nix and Max from across the room and tell myself the twisting in my gut isn’t from envy. But hell. Who am I kidding? They’re so high on love I practically get a contact buzz just standing in the same room. They’re dressed as Wonder Woman and Superman and can’t keep their hands off each other—not so different from the times they’re dressed in normal clothes.

  They’re perfect. No. That’s not it. They’re not perfect. In fact, they’re both kind of screwed up. Which is probably why I find their relationship so compelling. Nix and Max make my baggage look like nothing, and they don’t just make it work, they make it look easy. And Max’s daughter Claire thinks Nix walks on water.

  Max sees me watching them, whispers something to Nix, then crosses through a throng of masked guests to stand by my side.

  “Batman?” he asks, and I have to resist the urge to groan. Fucking costume.

  “Only comic book character I know,” I lie. I’m usually up for a party, but they had to twist my arm to get me to come to this one because the host’s only requirement was that everyone come dressed as a comic book character. I relented and figured I couldn’t go wrong with Batman, but I’m one of at least three dudes here dressed as Batman. Not exactly the most original idea.

  Max folds his arms and studies me. “We were hoping tonight might help get your mind off what’s been bothering you.”

  “Nothing’s bothering me,” I lie. “But thanks for inviting me.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he could read my mind. I haven’t told anyone here about Cara. I don’t plan to. That shit’s behind me for good.

  “You and Nix seem pretty serious,” I say.

  His eyes immediately find her through the crowd. “Every day that I wake up next to her, I think I’m dreaming. She’s . . .” He shakes his head, as if he can’t find the words. “Did you know she and Claire have campouts in the tree house?”

  “I didn’t know that, but I’m not surprised. She loves that little girl like she’s her own.”

  Nodding, Max exhales slowly. “I’m taking it slow even though it’s killing me. But I’m telling you now I’m going to marry her.”

&n
bsp; I cock a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lucky fucking bastard,” I mutter.

  Max grins. “Don’t think I don’t know it.” He smacks me on the back. “Have fun tonight. I’m off to convince my girl to dance with me again.”

  No sooner has he left my side than someone’s grabbing my wrist and tugging me toward the dance floor. “What the—” I’m confronted with an image from my teenage fantasies. Catwoman.

  I swallow hard and pull my gaze up her slowly, from her stiletto boots to her patent leather suit that hugs every curve to her mask.

  I’ve never been much of a comic book guy, but Catwoman? Well, you don’t have to be a closet nerd to get behind that.

  Before I can figure out who’s hiding behind the mask, she loops her whip behind my neck and presses her body against mine.

  “Hey there,” I murmur.

  “Just shut up and make this look believable,” she says, then her mouth is on mine.

  I only hesitate for a beat—I mean, who the fuck does this—but her lips are soft and her breath is sweet, and I can’t help myself. I slide my hand under her jaw and slant my mouth over hers.

  She gasps then curls a hand around my bicep and slips her tongue against mine.

  For a moment, I’m lost. I’m not in the middle of a party. I’m not some idiot who let a woman steal his heart and make a fool out of him. I’m nothing but a man touching a woman, our bodies pressed together, our mouths searching for something more than anyone should expect from a kiss.

  She jerks away. Her breathing is uneven, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are clouded with confusion. She lifts my mask off my face. Her eyes go wide.

  “Who are you?” I whisper.

  Shaking her head, she backs away—slowly at first, and then she’s running, racing to the door as quickly as she came.

  As quickly as she arrived, she’s gone, and I’m left with the taste of her on my lips, my mind swimming with the vulnerability that filled her eyes when she saw my face.