I’m not about to soften in front of her, and I for damn sure won’t be showing any weakness in Rebecca’s presence. My dear mother has shown whose side she’s on in this fight, and I won’t put it past her to scent blood in the water and move in for the kill. As it is, she was rolling her eyes at me because of my last dig.
“Calen, why don’t we have the staff show them both to the nursery, and you and I can have a talk over a coffee.”
“I’m not thirsty.” Her look made me feel like a recalcitrant teen again, and I went off to do her bidding, damn tyrant.
She followed me from the room and lit into me as soon as I’d sent the housekeeper off to show my son and his mother to the nursery. The room so far only had a little portable sleeper, which I’d been told would do in a snap until his furniture arrived.
I plan on having the furniture that my dad and I had used as kids sent here as soon as it has been cleaned and reinforced to make sure of its safety. The things I’d bought today were just little things I was told would be needed since the furniture dad, and I had used as kids hadn’t been updated since the early eighteen hundreds, but was always given a good once over before each use.
“Mom, I’m glad that you’re magnanimous enough to forgive and forget so easily, but apparently you didn’t do a good enough job raising me because I don’t feel the same. I will never forgive Giselle for what she did, not even if I live to be a hundred.”
“You and your father, stubborn jackasses who always have to do things the hard way until you fall flat on your ass. Now you listen to me. My grandson deserves to be raised in a happy home with both parents.”
“There’s nothing that says I can’t find someone else.” The thought is repulsive, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“You do that, and I’ll make sure Giselle wins custody. She loves that little boy; you can see how well she’s cared for him. There is no reason to take that child away from his mother, and I’d like to know which one of those snippy twits you call friends and acquaintances you think is good enough to take her place as his mom. Are you trying to stress me?”
“You’d really do that? Help her fight me for custody?”
“Unless you get your head out of your ass and fight for your family, yes. I’ve already told you, if you don’t find out what happened, I most certainly will. I was willing to leave it alone before, even though I didn’t agree with you. It’s your life, and you’re an adult. But my grandson deserves better than a sulking jackass for a father.”
She got to her feet in high dudgeon, and I didn’t even get the chance to tell her that I was already leaning towards doing what she’d suggested before she stormed out. Damn woman knows when to act up. Every other time she’s as sweet as pie, but when she doesn’t get her way with one of her causes, there’s hell to pay, and dad and I are usually the ones bearing the brunt whether we had anything to do with it or not.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I rested my head back against the chair. If mom knew that I already had a team of people looking into Giselle’s past and was already trying to find answers because I too find it strange that she’d never touched the money and had, in fact, not taken anything of value that I’d given her, she’d have an officiant at my door, and my ass would be married.
Calen
We avoided each other, Giselle and I, once mom left later that evening. I’d planned to ignore her very existence while she was here; after all, my only interest is my son. But once I realized how uncomfortable she was in my presence, the sadist in me couldn’t resist. I took my time enjoying my dinner while she squirmed in her seat, hardly taking a bite of hers.
I don’t know why her unease gave me such pleasure, but it did. All guilty people should be made to feel like that. Maybe if she feels uncomfortable enough, she’d get the hell out of my damn house: without my son, of course. I can’t come right out and tell her to leave because mom would probably throw a fit if she finds out, which she most certainly will because I wouldn’t put it past this manipulative bitch to tell her, so this was the next best thing.
With my new purpose in mind, I dogged her every step. There was nowhere for her to escape in my home, except the bedroom she would be sleeping in. And since my son was on my side and refused to go down at his usual bedtime after dinner, she had no choice but to suffer me being in her vicinity.
I sat on the toilet seat when she gave him his first bath in his nursery tub and got caught up myself in his joy of splashing and giggling like a lunatic, and since I was his newest gopher, he kept showing me all the new toys he had in the tub with him. Yes, I enjoyed the look of hurt on his mother’s face when he’d involve me and not her. Serves her ass right for what she did.
She had him for over a year, not to mention the months she carried him inside her, time that I lost out on. Fuck if I’m going to feel sorry for her. So why did you get that pain in your heart when you saw the sadness on her face? You can get the fuck out conscience.
That’s just remembered behavior. She was once the most important thing in my life, and because of the way she left, my psyche hasn’t had a chance to get over those things. Give it some time, and I wouldn’t even blink if her ass gets run over by a train. In fact, I just might be the one to tie her ass to the tracks.
My little internal tongue lashing was pissing me off so much that I almost got up and left, but my son was too excited to have me there, so I ignored his mother and played with him. She tried taking him into her room to get away from me after his bath, but I wasn’t having it.
“Why is he going in there? I’d like to see my son before he goes to sleep for the night, seeing as how I have so much missed time to make up for. I have no plans on ever being anywhere as intimate as a bedroom with someone like you, so please stick to places where I can reach my son, thank you.” I hated that she didn’t answer me, just nodded her head, kept it down, and went back to the nursery.
I gritted my teeth and folded my fists in anger. She was acting the way she used to when we first met. Timid, like a grey rock, in fact, that’s what I used to teasingly call her. I’d never met anyone before her who went out of their way to be nonexistent in a room full of people. It’s especially rare in my experience, for someone who looks like her.
My ex, for all that I hate her guts, is the most exceptionally beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes on. She has the kind of soft beauty that you could just stare at for hours on end without pause, and her body, that perfect svelte shape that having my son, hadn’t changed much except in the chest area. From what I can see beneath the baggy clothes she was back to wearing, her body was still as slender and perfect as I recall.
No, don’t go there. I pulled back from going down that slippery slope and went back to wondering what had happened to all the hard work I’d done to drag her out of her shell. It had taken months of me working with her one on one since she was terrified of going to a therapist and she’d made great progress.
I’d gotten her to see her worth and that as my wife, there wasn’t much she couldn’t do or have. It was obvious that she’d been taught etiquette somewhere, and all the right manners to fit into polite society. I didn’t get the feeling that she came from a poor background, which at the time hadn’t mattered to me. All I cared about when we first met was making her mine completely.
Maybe I was a fool for accepting her every word for believing her when she said that she had no family to speak of. I’d come to the conclusion from the things she’d said that her life had changed drastically after her dad died. In my mind, I’d blamed that for the reason for her reticence and titmouse attitude. Though she never said how her dad died exactly, she’d given away enough for me to decipher that he’d taken his own life.
I can only imagine how something like that would affect a young child and how, without the proper care, those feelings could linger in one so young. I was even more convinced of it when she started to change under my care and affection. I fell in love all over again with the new, more c
onfident her. Not that I didn’t already love her quiet, shy reserve. But a self-confident Giselle just shone.
So what happened in the two years since she left me? What could’ve sent her scurrying back into her shell for cover? I had nothing to go on, which meant there was no way for me to answer that question, so I chose to put it aside for now. I followed her into the nursery to continue torturing her and walked my ass right into a trap.
I came up short in the doorway at the sight of her sitting in the rocker feeding my son. There was a tumult of emotions running rampant in my chest at once. Awe at the beautiful sight of mother and child in such an intimate setting, a kind of warmth that I was here to see it, quickly followed by disdain because I’d missed so much of this. None of that overshadowed the instant hard-on I got just standing there watching her, though.
It wasn’t the first time my body has responded to her since she came back, but it was the strongest. I hate this shit, hate that she can still make me feel…anything. Still make me want her even though I hate her more than I’ve ever hated anyone or anything before.
I started to make my escape since she hadn’t seen me as yet, but then she cupped the back of his head as she gazed down at him. There was such tenderness in the move that I felt that shit in my core. How could she show such kindness to my child if she hates me? Isn’t it a foregone conclusion that if a woman hates the father of her child, then she would hate said, child?
I slipped back out of the room, confused as hell. I’d played around with the idea that she’d become my wife to use me as a sperm donor, but that didn’t gel for me. Unless I’m the world’s biggest dupe, there’s no way I was wrong about her genuine feelings for me. And besides, I was the one who’d gone after her, hard.
She’d done everything to avoid me in those early days after our chance meeting at the gallery where she was interning. I’d gone in there to find something for mom for her birthday and found more than I’d bargained for. Something about the soft-spoken unassuming woman who didn’t go out of her way to fawn all over me when she learned my name had caught my interest.
When her attitude didn’t change when I dropped a cool million on an oil painting, I was even more intrigued. Usually, in this town, all it takes is my name to have women putting it all out there, but not this one. She’d acted as if I were no different from anyone else in the gallery and had barely spared me a glance as I left.
I’d stood outside the window out of her sight, of course, to see what she would do next. My egotistical ass couldn’t believe that she had been as unaffected as she pretended. Not since middle school has there been a female who could resist my charms. Surely she was going to rush to her phone as soon as I cleared the door to call all of her friends and gush about me.
I was well aware of the games some women played. And since she knew I would be back to pick up the painting once it was framed, maybe she was just playing a game of cat and mouse. But no, that day she hadn’t gone to her bag to grab her phone. She’d just tagged the painting as sold and made some notations as to what kind of framing etc. at least I think that’s what she was writing.
I’d walked away from her that day feeling confused as hell, but even more, I was intrigued. So no, she hadn’t used me to get her with child, at least that much I know to be true. So what the hell was it? I was halfway to my room and bemoaning the fact that I wouldn’t get to say goodnight to my son when my phone rang in my pocket.
“Silas? What do you have for me?” Silas is the head of security for my corporation and the one also in charge of looking after mom and dad when they travel. His team of men and women work mostly in the shadows, but they’re known for more than just being human shields. They can find out anything about anyone, given the time and money to do it.
“Good evening Mr. Addison, I’ve got the results you wanted from the license plate number you gave. Sorry, it took so long, but I wanted to be thorough.”
“Go ahead.”
“The car comes back to a PI firm. It’s run by a man named Sorenson, not the best reputation and skating on thin ice where his license is concerned. He’s known for crossing many lines that should never be crossed.”
“He has a team working with him, so it’s hard to say who exactly was in the car unless we can get a picture of them. You say there were two of them, right?”
“Yes, tell you what, I’ll let them pick up my trail again tomorrow and give you a heads-up. That way, you can have someone tail them and get that pic. Not that it matters. I want to talk to this Sorenson guy face to face, set it up.”
“Will do, sir, goodnight.” I hung up the phone and looked back down the hallway towards the nursery. I’m convinced, as is Jeremy that we’d picked the tail up at her place. Who the hell would have a PI following her, and for what reason? The thought of her being in some kind of danger was daunting, and then I thought of my son, and my blood ran cold, then hot.
I turned to go back to her. She’s going to tell me once and for all what the fuck happened two years ago to send her fleeing from my life. If I don’t like what she has to say, I’ll strangle her ass.
Calen
Once again, I found myself coming up short in the doorway. This time it was because of the way she’d fallen asleep in the chair with our son held safely in her arms. There were tear tracks on her face that I knew were most likely there because of me. I didn’t like the way that made me feel, so I was more than a little rough when I woke her up.
I shook her shoulder, making sure not to jar my son, and she came awake with a start. “Get up, put him down; we need to talk.” I left the room with no doubt that she’d do my bidding and waited outside in the hallway until she joined me. “Outside!” I might end up yelling at her, and I didn’t want to wake Junior if it came to that.
She followed me out to the garden wordlessly with her head down, and I gritted my teeth. This shit was beginning to grate on my nerves. When we first met, I found her shyness cute, even sexy. But now that I know that that shit was just a lure to draw me in, seeing her like this makes me want to slam her into the fucking wall.
There’s no way on earth I’ll ever believe in that shit again. No one as innocent as she pretended to be could’ve done the shit she did to me. So she was a virgin the first time we fucked, so what? She could’ve been saving that shit for the highest bidder; she wouldn’t be the first. Women have been selling their virginity for centuries.
I calmed down enough to look back at her without the urge to do murder. “Tell me, why did you leave here with my child inside of you? Mom seems to think you might have a legit reason; I personally think you’re just a conniving bitch who took me for what you wanted and bounced. So let’s hear it.”
If I hadn’t been watching her, I wouldn’t have seen the different emotions that once again flitted across her face. Fear, dread, remorse, resignation, and then…anger. She turned and headed for the door. “Oh no, you fucking don’t.” I didn’t mean to touch her. Never had any intentions of ever doing that shit again.
But without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from walking away; her soft, warm arm. Like some Elizabethan jackass, that was all that it took. That, and the fact that she had the nerve to walk away from me in the face of my anger. “How dare you?” I’d pulled her back around, and we were now facing each other, both of us breathing hard and fast.
I know why I was breathing like that, but what was her excuse? What the fuck does she have to be angry about? I would’ve let her go, at least release her arm. But she had the audacity to glare up at me defiantly. Not even when we were on our best terms could she get away with that shit. “Oh, you wanna play?”
Don’t do it, Calen. That little voice in my head was ringing the alarm, but it was too damn late for that. I’d treated her with kid gloves before, pandered to her shy as fuck scared of the world nature, and look where that got me. I pushed her back against the garden wall and towered over her, giving her one last chance to wipe that look off her face, and the fool
had the nerve to defy me with the same damn look again.
I dropped her arm and wrapped my hand around her throat, tilting her head back none too gently. “That’s better.” I wanted her fear, wanted her to know that she’ll never get the chance to walk all over me again. My reason for lowering my head and sealing her lips with mine? I’m not sure, but I’m positive that it has nothing to do with desire.
That fucking jolt to the system was still the same, and I hated her for it. That’s why I deepened the kiss, made it harder, punishing, as I pressed my body into hers for the first time in two years. Fuck me; I almost went up in flames. She’s so soft, so giving. It’s as if the time had not passed.
I fed on her lips as my cock grew against her middle, then lifted her just a little with my hand under her ass until I had her just where I wanted her, with my cock between her thighs. I could feel the heat of her pussy through her skirt and almost lost my mind. It’s only when I realized that she was kissing me back with as much fiery passion that I came to my senses.
“Fuck you!” I dropped my hand from around her throat and walked away. I need a shower, a long cold one. And I need to get her the hell out of my house before something like this happens again. Regardless of what my mom says or thinks, I’m not the kind of man to easily give second chances, especially when the offense is as grave as my ex-wife’s.
In the shower, I let the water run over my head to cool down. Shit, I didn’t get an answer to my question. I flicked the water off, determined to go to her again, and wring it out of her if I had to, but the condition of my body told me that I should maybe put that off until I had myself back under control.
I heard her finally entering the room next to mine, the room that was connected by a flimsy door: the room that had been built with the sole purpose of giving the man of the house easy access to his woman. “You’re not this fucking weak, Calen, are you?” Maybe if I’d fucked one of the many women who’d thrown themselves at me in the last two years, I wouldn’t be so desperate as to want to fuck this one again.
Dare To Love Again Page 5
