Complicated

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Complicated Page 46

by Kristen Ashley


  “So we haven’t gotten around to talking about that yet, and because of that, I have a feeling something about it is weighing on your mind. But do you get that if I haven’t talked about it with your dad I shouldn’t with you?”

  Something lit in her eyes as she said, “Yes.”

  “So how about we not talk about any more heavy stuff now and get you settled in then go down and join the boys and eat more food that’s really bad for us?”

  That bought me a smile as she agreed, “Let’s do that.”

  I smiled back, folded a scary amount of leotards and helped her clear the rest of her stuff. We had just begun breaking down boxes, an endeavor Hix must have heard because he joined us and ordered us out so he could do it (apparently, girls couldn’t break down boxes either).

  Since that wasn’t my favorite task and there were only eight, we left him to it and went down to join the boys, the game and eat really bad food.

  “I’m not sure this is the right thing to do.”

  “I am.”

  I sat on the side of Hix’s bed and watched him walk into the bathroom.

  He closed the door.

  I stared at it.

  It was late.

  Andy was back at the home. Shaw was in the basement. Mamie was in bed across the hall.

  And I was spending the night, according to Hix, but I wasn’t sure that was the way to go.

  He came out of the bathroom and I caught his eyes immediately.

  “Hix, we need to slow this down.”

  He walked right up to me, stopped and stared down at me.

  “What, baby, from our conversation this morning gives you the impression we should slow this down?” he asked gently.

  “The drama with your daughter that happened right after it,” I answered.

  He bent to me and rested both hands on the sides of my neck. “Is this happening?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Is it very much happening?”

  “Yes, Hix, but—”

  “Is there gonna be a day when you’re makin’ breakfast for more than just me in my kitchen?”

  I nodded and whispered, “I hope so.”

  He nodded too. “So everyone has to get the message that’s gonna happen, Greta. And I’m not usin’ you to make a point to my ex-wife or my kids. In that everyone, I also mean you. If you have genuine reason that any delay in relating that message will be useful, I’ll listen. But it is what it is and it’s gonna be that for a long damned time. So why delay it?”

  Another Drake with a good point.

  “Mamie asked me if we got married, if we’d have kids,” I divulged.

  The pads of his fingers bit into my flesh momentarily before he let me go and straightened.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “I said I hadn’t even talked to you about it so I didn’t feel it was right discussing it with her.”

  “Good answer,” he muttered.

  “Hix—”

  I said no more because he tagged my hand, pulled me up but he did it only to sit and tug me back down, right in his lap.

  He wrapped his arms around me and only spoke when I looked into his eyes.

  “You said you didn’t want kids,” he remarked carefully.

  “I don’t,” I replied just as carefully.

  “I got kids.”

  I smiled a small smile. “I know.”

  “Babe, you feel like changin’ your mind, you wanna make a baby with me, we’ll talk. But right now, that part of my life is behind me and I’m girding for losin’ my babies to the lives they’re gonna lead. I’m not feeling a hankering to go through that again.” He lifted a hand and ran his fingers along my jaw, murmuring, “We’d make a beautiful baby so if you want that door open, we’ll talk. But if you don’t, I’m down with that too.”

  I stared at him and I did it not thinking about Mamie or Hope or our crazy day.

  I did it thinking about all the times I’d had this very conversation with Keith, the crushing guilt that I so very much didn’t want to give him something he so very much wanted, that guilt compounded by the fact that he already gave so much I felt I was being doubly selfish not giving it to him.

  But it wasn’t like he wanted an expensive new car that you could find a way to pay for or eventually sell and move on.

  He wanted to make a child with me.

  And I loved kids but the one I’d had had been work even before my mother hurt him in ways that would never heal. So in the end I’d just wanted Keith and Andy and calm and peace, because I’d never had the chance to live my life just how I might want it. I never would have that chance because I’d always have Andy, and I didn’t want more.

  But with Hix, it was if you want it, we’ll talk and I’m leaving that door open, if you don’t, we’re good.

  And I couldn’t cope with it being that easy.

  “Baby, have you changed your mind?”

  Hix’s question jolted me out of my reverie.

  “Women are supposed to want to have kids,” I shared.

  “There are a lot of women out there so that all-encompassing statement might not be true, sweetheart.”

  “We . . . would . . .” I cleared my throat, the thoughts in my head tumbling. “We actually would make a beautiful baby.”

  Hix stroked my neck and watched me closely. “Yeah.”

  “If this . . . runs its course, we’ll always have Andy, Hix.”

  He grinned at me. “If this runs its course,” he said teasingly, “we’ll also always have Shaw, Corinne and Mamie. It’ll be in different ways, but they’ll always be my kids and you’ll get to share in that.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” I whispered.

  “All right. But so I know where you’re at, you want that door open?”

  God.

  He wasn’t to be believed.

  “Not right now but no door should ever be closed.”

  He grinned again, moved in to touch his mouth to mine and moved back. “Right. That’s settled. Now are you gonna get ready for bed?”

  “We can’t have sex. Mamie’s across the hall.”

  His gaze drifted to the door and he muttered, “Yeah.”

  “Quickie after the kids are off to school and before we go to work.”

  He looked back at me. “Deal.”

  That was when I grinned, pushed off his lap and went to my bag to get my nightie.

  The lights were out and I was cuddled up to Hix who was on his back, stroking my arm, when he noted, “Andy’s a capable guy.”

  I adjusted to put my chin to my hand that was flat on his chest in order to look at his shadowed face.

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  “Can’t he be in a work program or something? A home where he has more independence?”

  I shook my head but said, “The home. Yes. Though he can decide to roam which isn’t good, so there has to be supervision. He also can’t do things like cook on his own, because he forgets he’s cooking and things can go south when he does. But regardless, they don’t have a home like that around here.”

  “Right,” Hix muttered.

  I carried on, “But he helps with the staff and other residents who aren’t as functional as he is. The work thing, we tried that in Denver. He got a job bagging groceries and he had another one where he cleaned up and had tasks in the stock room and putting stuff on shelves at a hardware store. But if he gets frustrated or flustered, the results can be a little frightening. And he had a really bad seizure at the hardware store. It freaked out the customers, and even though the owner knew it could happen, it didn’t sit easy with him either. He’d been taught what to do but he felt pretty powerless, and for whatever reason, it wasn’t long before he said he had to let Andy go.”

  “Think folks in a small town might have more patience and understanding, babe,” Hix remarked, and I nodded my chin on his chest.

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it, talking to his therapists about it. They get work requests and he
’s been given a good deal of time to settle in and get used to the change. Maybe, if something comes in that fits, we can get him set up.”

  “I’ll ask around,” he murmured.

  I settled back into him. “That’d be sweet. He likes making his own money and he’s social. Stability is good but it’s also good when he has more than the people he sees all the time to talk to.”

  “We’ll find something for him. And Shaw wants to go out and get him and take him somewhere to watch Thursday night football. I know that’s your day with him, sweetheart, but Shaw likes him and I think he gets what’s going on and he definitely gets he’s gonna be enlisting in the marines soon so he’s not gonna be around and he’s packing a lot in . . .”

  He went on but I wasn’t listening.

  I’d closed my eyes to beat back the wet.

  “Baby?” Hix called.

  “Shaw can have Thursday night,” I whispered.

  His hand curled around my arm and held me there. “He’ll be okay with Andy. If he’s gotta keep his eye out for something, you just give him a brief but they’ll be good to—”

  “I’m sure Andy will be fine with Shaw.”

  Hix was silent a second before he asked, “Then what am I feeling coming from you, sweetheart?”

  “I just . . . I just . . .” I moved my hand so when I turned my head to kiss his chest, I’d be able to go in direct. I settled back in on my cheek and gave his middle a squeeze. “I think you’re just feeling me being happy.”

  He pulled me closer and his voice was gruff when he replied, “I’ll take that.”

  He didn’t take it.

  He gave it.

  But I didn’t share that.

  I whispered wondrously, “This is gonna work, isn’t it?”

  Hix answered instantly.

  “Yup.”

  I shoved my face in his ribcage. “God, I’m gonna cry.”

  “Baby—”

  “No really, this time I’m gonna cry.”

  Hix rolled into me so I was on my back. He was mostly pressed down my side and my face was held in one of his hands.

  “You cry, I’m gonna have to take the time to comfort you and this will delay sleep so I’m not gonna have the energy to break in my headboard tomorrow morning during our quickie after the kids go to school.”

  I blinked up at him and took in a shuddering breath before I declared, “I’m good.”

  “Thought that would do it,” he muttered.

  I slapped his arm.

  He came in and took my mouth but I could tell his was smiling.

  When he was done kissing me gentle, wet and for a long time, he rolled us back to our previous position and held me close.

  I said no more because, if Hix was given the opportunity to change my world again, I’d totally lose it and end up bawling and not get headboard sex in the morning.

  So instead, cuddling closer, with Hix’s fingers trailing soothingly on my arm, I just fell asleep against my man.

  It was after morning pandemonium with Hix’s kids getting ready for school (which, to be fair to Shaw, who was definitely a morning person, after he woke up of course, was entirely Mamie).

  It was also after our headboard sex quickie.

  So I was letting myself in my side door with bed hair and sex hair after I drove home from Hix’s to get a shower and get ready for work, when I saw something come at me from the side.

  Panic assailed me and I jumped back, my phone in my hand (I didn’t get out of my car without my phone in my hand anymore), a scream clogged in my throat, as I saw Hope storming up my drive toward me.

  However, her step faltered when she witnessed how she’d surprised me and the determined look on her face melted to something that could actually be read as chagrin.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said when she arrived at me.

  “Well, you did,” I snapped.

  “I wasn’t . . .” She shook her head. “That wasn’t my intent.”

  “Just for your education, after a woman is assaulted in her home, a sneak attack at any time, but mostly at said home, isn’t your best lead in.”

  “I’m sorry, Greta.”

  God, she actually looked sorry.

  This could mean she was sorry.

  Or she wanted something.

  I braced.

  “I just . . . I need to have a word with you,” she told me.

  “I can’t imagine why,” I returned.

  She stared at me. “You can’t?”

  “Hope—”

  “You need to step aside,” she stated quickly.

  It was me now staring at her.

  “It’s the right thing to do and you know it,” she went on.

  “For who?” I asked.

  Her brows shot together making her look both perplexed and annoyed. “For my family. For my kids. For Hix.”

  “I’m not sure any of that is true anymore,” I shared honestly.

  “Yes, because it’s not your family, though you’re trying to make it that way,” she returned.

  I drew in a calming breath, deciding arguing with Hope was not the way to carry on my day after it had started so well (I mean headboard sex with Hix?—forget about it) so I also decided to try not to do that.

  “You have things to say to Hix and he’s giving you time. Say them to him. Please keep me out of this,” I requested.

  “You’ve wormed your way right into it.”

  “Hope, I don’t want to get angry—”

  “You don’t want to get angry?” she snapped.

  “Stop it,” I hissed, leaning into her, and when I did her eyes got big, sharing surprise that stated eloquently Hope didn’t often have people call her on her shit. “Hix says you go all out until you get what you want but you’re an adult now, Hope. You have to learn that life is about getting what you want and it’s also about dealing appropriately when you don’t.”

  “He talks about me to you?” she asked.

  “Okay,” I stated curtly. “It’s clear you’re in a space where you can’t think of anyone but yourself, but if you manage to pull yourself out of that for a second, first, you’re the mother of his children so that’s gonna happen. Second, you’re his ex-wife so that’s gonna happen. And last, you’ve been pretty active lately in ways that don’t make him real happy so that’s gonna happen.”

  “You need to step aside,” she bit out.

  “That is not gonna happen,” I shot back.

  “He’s my husband.”

  “He’s not your husband, Hope. He’s my man. I’m angry you forced this situation but I honestly don’t intend to hurt you when I say that’s where this is at. This is real. It’s serious. It’s going places. And you have to focus on yourself and your life and your children and not on the man who is no longer yours not because he’s mine, which he is, but because he . . . is . . . no longer yours.”

  Her expression turned catty. “We’ll see.”

  “No, we won’t. I know how it is. You’ll see. And Hope, honest to God, you need to prepare because what you’ll see is not what you’re thinking, and as much as you’re obviously hurting now and trying to find ways to make it stop, if you don’t prepare, it’s only going to get worse.”

  “You think it’s about the ring. He thinks it’s about the ring.” She leaned toward me. “But it’s not about the ring.” She leaned back. “And when he knows what it was about, he’ll come back.”

  I stared at her and I thought about headboard sex.

  I thought about the words to “At Last.”

  I thought about the way Hix stroked the insides of my fingers in that sweet way and didn’t even know he was doing it.

  I thought about Junk Sundays and having a broken nose and not being allowed to lift anything and slipping on a set of stairs and watching Hix leap down them to get to me.

  I thought about the fact Hix had had a variety of opportunities to walk away from me and he didn’t. Even when I tried to close that door, he put his boot in it,
keeping it open.

  I thought about the man I knew who knew all the crap that came with me, and he didn’t go running.

  I thought about that man and the man I knew him to be and knew he’d never tell me, not ever, that he was done with his ex-wife and he was intent to build something with me if he didn’t mean that down to the bottom of his soul.

  And after I thought all that, I said to my man’s ex-wife, “Prepare, Hope.”

  “We’ll see,” she purred, grinning venomously at me, turning and sashaying down my drive.

  I watched her go, now thinking about if I should tell Hix that happened or not.

  I decided to give it time. Not too much, if he found out before I told him, he might think I was keeping it from him if only to protect him, but he wouldn’t like that.

  However, I had to shower and get to work.

  I had a client.

  “Right.”

  I bit my lip at the way Hix said that after I’d shared with him what had happened with me and Hope that morning over the phone in the back room of the salon I’d just opened up.

  That one syllable didn’t sound happy.

  “She’s phoned,” he shared in return and my eyes went to the door as Lou walked through it.

  Hope had been busy that morning.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “She wants to go to Jameson’s tomorrow night to have dinner and talk.”

  Jameson’s?

  The swankiest, most romantic restaurant in the county?

  That bitch.

  I narrowed my eyes at Lou but mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” to Hix.

  “Babe, I’m goin’ over to her place tonight. I’m not going to freaking Jameson’s with her. Though,” he said that last word reflectively, “we should make a reservation.”

  My eyes unnarrowed and I was pretty sure it was me who now had a smug grin.

  Lou’s eyes weren’t narrowed. They were widened at me.

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  “Right, when the girls are back with her next week, we’ll go. And I’m not goin’ over to hers until after the kids and I get a TV. You wanna come with us? We’ll get a quick dinner after then you can hang at home with them and be there when I get back.”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked.

  “Do you have to ask that?” he asked in return.

 

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