Sammy grinned. “I want his burgers!”
Hoo boy. “Are you sure?”
Sammy nodded at me, grinning. Jace held his hand up for a high five, and Sammy enthusiastically gave it to him, full of energy now that he was going to get the delicious dinner he wanted.
“Go wash your hands,” I told him. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Is this okay?” Jace asked, his hand coming up to gently grasp my elbow and stop me from going anywhere.
I nodded. “Yes,” I told him honestly. In fact, to be honest, it scared me how okay this was. But I didn’t say that. “Yes, it’s okay.”
15
Jace
Sammy was a cool kid. I mean, I’d figured that any kid raised by Leigh would be a good one, but he was adorable. I kept grinning at him as he animatedly chatted at me about his interests, his hobbies, about how he wanted to draw like his mom when he grew up, about how he loved running through the trees and pretending to be a pirate captain with his mom, and about his friends at kindergarten.
He loved the burgers, too. I was glad to hear it and nodded solemnly as he gave me his opinion. Kids, in my experience, didn’t want to be treated like a pet. They wanted to be taken seriously. I could appreciate and respect that. After all, wasn’t that what we all wanted? To be respected as people? To be listened to?
After he ate, he started running around in the grass, kicking a ball around. I cringed inwardly to think about what his mom and I had just been doing on that grass a short bit ago. Thank God the water had washed it all away.
“He’s a good kid,” I told Leigh. “Reminds me of some of the kids I’d see on my tours.”
Leigh glanced over at me, still munching on her burger. “How was that?” she asked.
“It was all right. It was a job. You grow… desensitized to some things. I try not to think about it. I plan on getting myself a therapist at some point—I had one, when I was in recovery, physical therapy, but I should get one near here.”
“Recovery?” Leigh’s gaze roamed over my body and I realized what she was doing—she was thinking back and trying to remember if she’d seen any bad scars on my body, any signs of a major injury.
“My leg.” I patted my knee. “I blew out my knee, stupid of me, honestly. I got an honorable discharge and, well, I was back here before I knew it. Spent a few months in recovery, and then talked to my Uncle Dave and he told me about taking over his business, really making something of it. I figured, why the hell not?” I paused. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I would’ve… called.”
“Like you called for all those years?” Leigh pointed out, her tone gentle.
I sighed. “Yeah. I deserved that.”
We watched silently as Sammy kept playing. “Mind if I join him?” I asked. I could see how protective Leigh was of her son, and I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to make sure that this was all okay.
Leigh nodded. “Sure.” She smiled at me. “I know you’re not going to run off with him or something, Jace.”
“Mmm, you never know, he’s just so damn cute.” I got up and headed over to Sammy. “Hey, c’mere, let me show you a few tricks.”
Sammy was eager to learn how to properly kick a ball, and my heart continued to swell. I’d thought about having kids, once upon a time, but I’d kind of forgotten about that dream when I had been deep in special ops. Now it was coming back to me hard as I played with him.
“You’re really good at this,” Sammy said as I showed off a bit, shifting the ball from foot to foot. “You play for real? Like a job?”
“Nah, we just played a lot in my unit.” I kicked the ball up and caught it with my knee, bouncing it on my knee a few times before letting it drop back down onto the grass. “In between assignments.”
“Were your assignments hard?” Sammy asked. “Like my homework assignments?”
“Nah.” I shook my head, swallowing around the lump in my throat. I would suddenly give anything for this kid, who had no idea the kind of violence and selfishness that could be found in the world. He was just so damn innocent. “Your homework’s way harder, I bet.”
Sammy grinned at me, looking proud of himself, to know that he was handling such hard work so well.
My heart swelled.
Later, as I was helping Leigh with the dishes, I insisted on loading the dishwasher so she could give Sammy a bath. She looked relieved and thanked me profusely, hustling him upstairs. I couldn’t help but wonder about how hard it was for her every day, having to take Sammy up to give him a bath, read him a bedtime story or two, then tuck him in—only to come downstairs to clean up after Sammy’s toys and take care of dinner and all the rest. And usually she made dinner, too, as well as cleaning it up.
It was the least I could do to help her out when I was over for this one night. Her life would be so much easier if she had a partner to help her. I was sure that her family was helping as much as they could, but it wasn’t the same thing as having a person living with you, a true life partner, a spouse…
Dammit, man, go slow. Don’t fucking mess this up. I could get used to this life, was the thing. Making love to Leigh after a day of work, while Sammy was napping. Making dinner, playing with the kid, cleaning up the house while Leigh put him to bed. Maybe getting to read him a bedtime story, eventually. I’d been told by the guys in my unit that I wasn’t half-bad at voices, although at the time I’d been imitating superior officers and politicians.
Leigh came back quietly down the stairs, smiling at me when she saw me wrapping things up. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Of course. Least I could do after you let me stay for dinner.”
Leigh’s face flushed. “Sammy likes you.”
“Yeah, he’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job with raising him, Leigh, I mean that.”
“I do my best.”
I felt such a rush of anger at the father—whoever he was. Leigh said that the guy wasn’t in the picture. What kind of asshole ran out on his son like that? What kind of man didn’t take responsibility? He could’ve at least sent some child support checks. What if he’d run out on Leigh before the kid was even born, not wanting to be a father? What if he was a one night stand who had been gone by morning?
Leigh didn’t strike me as the type to have a one night stand. Nothing against that, of course, but Leigh had always been a committed person. She’d never shown a real interest in anyone until she had gotten together with me—we’d talked about that once when we’d been together—and I didn’t imagine that changing after I left. So what kind of man just up and abandoned her and their child?
Not the kind of man who would be happy to meet me. I’d soon set him fucking straight.
“I should go,” I said, clearing my throat. “I don’t want to bother you too much, overstay my welcome… and Sammy’s got to get to bed.”
“Right.” Leigh gave me another smile. “Um. Thank you, Jace. This has been really nice.”
I smiled at her, and barely resisted the urge to lean in and kiss her goodnight. I was trying to be careful, to tow the line and not move too quickly. Instead, I made myself leave.
Sleep didn’t come easily to me that night. I kept tossing and turning. It wasn’t clear to me what Leigh’s thoughts on me were. She was more than willing to sleep with me, but she was still very tentative about letting me back into her life and her home. Her own brother was angry with me for how I’d left her. She was much quieter around me than she’d been six years ago, when she’d talk to me all the time about her dreams, her artistic process, anything that sprang into her mind. I was having to earn the trust that had once been freely given to me.
But I wanted to be in her life. And in Sammy’s. The more I thought about it, staring up into the darkness, the more I knew that it was what I needed. I had always loved her, and now that I was back I was realizing that I’d never stopped. I wanted to be with her, for a long time to come, and with Sammy. I wasn’t just dating Leigh, I was being a part of Sammy’s life too—and
sure, I’d always thought that I’d be a father the biological way, but I wasn’t against adopting. I’d be happy to call Sammy as my own.
And Leigh needed someone to help her around the house, to be her partner. Sammy needed a good male figure in his life, and I hoped that I could be that figure—or one of those figures. Andy and Sammy’s grandfather were both good men and good role models.
I just had to proceed with caution. I felt like I was planning to approach a skittish deer. I couldn’t blame Leigh, but that didn’t mean I could let my guard down, either. And if that meant I had to work a little harder? That was fine by me. The last thing I wanted to do was misstep and risk losing her forever.
16
Leigh
At last, I was able to work on the mural. I had my plan in mind of what I was going to do with it, and I was putting down the stencils now so that I could follow the lines when I painted it all later. It was going to be the biggest artistic work that I had ever done, and I was excited for the prospect. I was definitely going to take pictures of this when it was all finished.
I had never really considered my art as a career after having Sammy. I didn’t find a whole lot of time to do my art, and when I did do it, it was more to relax and meditate, a way to escape the frustrations that came up with being a mom. How could I find time to really work at making my art into a business when I had the hardware store to help run and a kid to raise? And if I did take all that time—it could’ve easily turned a hobby that was enjoyable and relaxing for me into something stressful and frustrating, and I didn’t want that.
But maybe… maybe now that Sammy was in school, I could think about it. Rachel couldn’t be the only person who wanted a mural or some other big piece of art in their home. I could do it in the morning while Sammy was at school—Andy could run the store by himself—and on the weekends when Sammy was with his grandparents.
Dawn had been telling me for ages to do something more with my art. Maybe it was time that I listened to her.
Jace poked his head in. “Hey, how’s it going?”
He was doing really well about not checking in too often. I remembered that from when we were together—we’d go into the woods with my paints and he’d take a nap or read a book and he would let me paint and not interrupt me constantly. He respected my art and my work.
“Good, how are the kitchen cabinets?” Jace was putting the new cabinets in downstairs.
“Almost finished.” Jace smiled at me and I felt myself melting all over again. Dammit. That man made me feel like I was nineteen years old again. Like I was young and ridiculous, but in a good way. “Anyway, the movers are here to bring in the furniture, thought I should let you know so you’re not surprised by any weird guys moving around.”
Oh, that would explain the car I’d heard. I had dismissed it, thinking it was just a neighbor, lost in my work. “Great, thanks!”
It was a good time for a break anyway, so I followed Jace out of the room and came downstairs, watching as the movers brought in a bunch of very high-end furniture. I stood out of the way, trying not to gape as tables and chairs and beds that looked like they were worth more than my entire house were set up around the house.
“Alimony or pre-nuptial agreement?” I asked Jace quietly.
Jace chuckled. “I’m not sure. Probably the former, knowing Rachel.”
I watched as the movers took in this huge bed and started moving it up onto the second floor. “Is that her bed?”
“Apparently. I don’t know where else it would go, the master bedroom’s the only place upstairs big enough to hold a bed that size.”
The movers finished taking care of everything, and Jace double-checked it all with them as I wandered through the house, taking in the new furniture. There was a glass coffee table gleaming in the middle of the living room now, the kind where if you got one fingerprint on it, you were screwed. Next to it was a massive cream-colored couch, to match the pale blue color of the walls. It was going to be a lovely place to live, but a bit… well, I wanted a place where Sammy could run around and play. Rachel’s two kids were the same age as Sammy, since she’d gotten married right around the time that Jace and I had gotten together, and I couldn’t imagine those kids doing anything other than wrecking the coffee table.
But to each their own. I went upstairs, looking at the stuff. Rachel’s daughter’s furniture had been put in the middle of the room and covered with tarp so that I wouldn’t get any paint on it, which was considerate of the movers.
Sure enough, the massive bed had been put in Rachel’s room, the master bedroom.
“You could fit four people on this thing,” I noted as I heard Jace walk up behind me. “Who does she think she’s going to have over? Is she going to be hosting orgies?”
Jace chuckled. “Maybe she’ll have some people on permanent retainer. Like a harem.”
I laughed at that, flopping down onto the bed. “There’s definitely enough room for it. Quick, get those movers back, we need to see how many people actually fit on this thing.”
Jace shook his head. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you on a bed with a bunch of other men…”
I pouted. “Aww, you don’t? I guess you’ll just have to keep me happy, then.”
Jace growled. “Oh, I think I know how to do that…”
I scooted back onto the bed, spreading my legs and looking up at Jace through my lashes, batting my eyes at him. “Do you? I don’t know, there are so many other men out there in the world. I suppose you’ll have to show me why I should stick with you.”
This was totally baiting him, and I knew it. A delighted thrill shot down my spine at the thought.
Jace stalked towards me, crawling onto the bed, hovering over me. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he purred, his gaze trailing up my body slowly. His gaze was so hot and full of promise, it felt almost like a physical touch that I could feel against my skin.
“Show me,” I replied, my voice breathy and helpless. God, I wanted him so badly. I wanted him to take me and claim me and own me. Show me how no other man could possibly—how even if I had a whole harem of men to look after me, none of their combined skills would satisfy me the way that Jace did.
God, even just watching him as he looked me up and down was setting my blood on fire. I was ready for him to fuck me, and all he’d done was look at me and growl a bit. Could anyone ever set me aflame in this way with so little? Nobody else ever had, not in my whole entire life. I was certain that nobody ever would.
Jace curled his finger, crooking it at me, and I got up onto my knees so that I could rise up to meet him. He kissed me much more briefly than I’d thought he would, just a brief, teasing peck of the lips, before pulling back again. I chased his mouth and he did it again and again, only giving me the briefest of kisses before pulling away once more. I wasn’t sure that I could ever truly get enough of kissing Jace but this was beyond unfair.
“Kiss me properly,” I pouted. I felt almost like a teenager again, acting so spoiled.
“But how can I leave you wanting more and realizing that no one else will ever be good enough, if I just give you what you want?” Jace pulled back, out of my reach. His voice was dark and sensual, dipping into an almost-growl. “I want you begging for me, sweetheart.”
Oh, God. A pulse of pure want shot through me, and I could feel my underwear getting damp as slick started to slide out of me. How was it possible that he could turn me on so deeply and so quickly?
Jace towered over me, radiating pure alpha energy. He was in control of this situation, and I might have started out teasing him, but now he was the one teasing me, and he was going to keep doing it for as long as he wanted.
“Nobody’s going to get you as turned on and desperate as I will,” he promised, reaching out and undoing the front buttons of my shirt. I tended to wear button-up men’s shirts when I was painting, nothing that I minded getting stained. Jace was careful, his fingers not touching me at all, until he drew the shirt
open and I shivered, exposed to the slightly chill air of the house.
“Gorgeous,” Jace murmured. I hadn’t always believed it, when people told me that I looked good. I knew that I wasn’t the thin, waifish kind of person that everyone was always telling you, from magazines to television shows to your own classmates, was attractive. But I’d always believed Jace when he said it. There was this perpetual tone of awe in his voice, like he couldn’t be sure that I even existed, or that I was choosing to share my beauty with him.
I’d believed him then and I believed him now, too, as he said that word, his gaze eating me up as he stared at my body.
I blushed all the same, though.
Jace reached out, his fingers just barely tracing over my skin, the curve of my breasts, in between them, coming up along my clavicle, the hollow of my throat. I swallowed hard, my skin on fire everywhere he traced, wanting him to touch me more, harder. “Jace… please…”
“Oh, we haven’t even gotten started yet,” he promised me, his voice dark and a wicked grin tugging up the corners of his mouth. “You’re going to be properly begging me by the time we’re finished.”
His fingers trailed down to my jeans, toying with the hem of them before popping the button and sliding down the zipper with tantalizing slowness. I bit down hard on my lip to hold in a whimper.
Jace stood up straight, towering over me once again. “Strip.”
It didn’t even occur to me not to obey him. I raised my trembling fingers to my clothes, pushing my shirt off and undoing my bra. I teased myself and Jace a little, cupping my breasts, rubbing my nipples with my thumbs, feeling the weight of my breasts in my hands before moving down to my pants. I arched my body as I slid my pants and underwear down, feeling the stickiness between my legs. I spread them wide once I got my clothes off, trailing my fingers up my thighs, moaning a little.
Second Chance with Brother's Best Friend: A Single Mom Secret Baby Romance Page 9
