Hooked

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Hooked Page 8

by C. C. Piper


  Our arguments hadn’t yet become as vitriolic as they’d been in the beginning when we’d each believed the other to be out-and-out lying, but I kept finding myself sniping at him. And he sniped right back.

  “Hiring it done is cheating,” I’d told Jax about our daughter’s Halloween costume.

  He’d scrunched his features incredulously. “How is it cheating?”

  “It just is. I guess I’ll try to patch something together myself.”

  “That’s silly, Roxy. You’re too busy for that, and you know I can afford to provide her with whatever she wants.”

  And there it was again, our bone of contention. He had plenty of funds and resources while I didn’t. Quietly, and without my permission, Jaxson had gone through and paid off every one of the medical bills I’d been paying since her birth. Everything to do with my cesarean and her time in the NICU. Every baby checkup and visit to the pediatrician. In one fell swoop, he’d relieved me of that debt, and I should have been grateful. I should. But I wasn’t.

  I didn’t even know why.

  “You resent him,” Raina provided her take on the situation.

  “Why would I resent him? I now know that what happened wasn’t his fault. He’s gone out of his way to get to know Callie, to get to know me again, too. What’s there to resent?”

  She frowned. Despite not saying so much aloud, I got the impression that Raina didn’t care for Jax. “He has this cushy lifestyle where all his needs are met with the flick of his wrist. Meanwhile, you spent over four years killing yourself to scrape out the most meager of livings. He doesn’t understand what that’s like and probably never will.”

  “I don’t think that’s fair, Raina. I feel like he’s doing his best.”

  I did, too. So what was my major malfunction?

  Ultimately, Jax had found this amazing company that created one-of-a-kind children’s costumes. He’d spoken to Callie, then commissioned the outfit. It fit on our daughter perfectly, and she’d been ecstatic, refusing to take it off for two days. I should have been thrilled. Relieved. Happy. And I was. Sort of. Still, something in the back of my mind rankled, and I couldn’t seem to let it go.

  It took me another week to figure things out, but once I did, it all became abundantly clear. Jax and I were having yet another disagreement, this time about a matter of great import. Callie’s care.

  “I don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this,” he said, shaking his head and scowling at me. “I owe you for over four years of childcare. Any decent father would pay, and since this is no hardship for me, I don’t get what your objections are.”

  “I’ve been handling this, Jax.”

  “Yeah, you have. All on your own, too. But that’s no longer necessary. I’m just making things right, and I’ll continue to do so.”

  Maybe he hadn’t intended for his words to come out as cocky and arrogant, but they had. It made me mad, but it also made me feel afraid. He was taking matters into his own hands without listening to my input. What else might he do without my input? How far would he go?

  “Callie is my daughter.”

  He stared at me, his dark brows set in harsh lines. He raised his voice, making me glad Callie was in daycare rather than here at home. “She’s our daughter. You wanted me to meet her. You asked me to be a part of her life.”

  This was true, but there was more to it than that.

  “I should be consulted on these types of decisions, though. I feel like you want to grab the reins from my hands. Like you want to take her over.”

  That made him pause. He went silent, and I knew he’d begun to analyze what I said. “You think I have some weird master plan to steal her away from you?”

  I hadn’t thought of something quite that specific, but now that he brought it up, my blood ran cold. The truth was he had the resources to do whatever he wanted, and not just on the basis of partial custody, either. With the right lawyers, he might be granted more. A lot more. And the possibility of that would be a nightmare. It took me right out at the knees.

  Before I could fall apart, though, he raised a palm to my cheek. He threaded a hand into my hair, gently pushing it back behind my ear. This was an action he’d taken in the past, a move I remembered from before he’d gone to London. The familiarity of it, the sweetness of it, rinsed over me like a warm rain, soaking away some of my fear and discontent.

  “I know we’re working on this, Roxy, on becoming a family. I know I could be a dick about the circumstances surrounding my parental rights, too, but I don’t want to go down that path. I want you to trust me. I want to make things better between us, not worse. I think we’ve both suffered enough in recent years. Don’t you?” His breath fanned over my ear as he spoke, and I shivered.

  Realization dawned then, loud and clear. I didn’t resent Jax because of what he’d been doing for Callie. I resented him because of what he hadn’t been doing for me. With me. I wanted what we used to have. I wanted him, and up until that point, he’d shown me no indication of wanting me back. His lack of interest hurt, even though it shouldn’t have.

  I recognized that he’d been holding back. He was careful around me. His blue eyes had darkened significantly as he bestowed me with that intense gaze of his, making desire pool between my thighs until my legs trembled. I knew that look. When he’d given me that look previously, it led to exquisite physical pleasure. Pleasure I hadn’t experienced since.

  It’d been something I believed I could do without. But now with the object of my desire so near, I could no longer pretend that my craving for him didn’t exist. It did. More than ever.

  I could still feel the heat of his hand warming my cheek, and as he leaned in so that his lips were within mere inches of mine, every nerve ending I had jumped up and begged for more. My breasts grew heavy and my nipples puckered. The ache in between my thighs intensified until I felt my panties saturate with dampness while my heartrate accelerated like I was running a hundred-meter dash.

  It’d been so long since I’d experienced this. Too long.

  But he dropped his hand and pulled away. “I care too much about you, about both of you, to allow you to suffer like that ever again,” he said, and taking a deep breath, he pivoted toward my door. I reached out to stop him, to tell him how I felt, but he’d already stepped over the threshold. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Rox.”

  And then he was gone.

  12

  Jaxson

  Day by day, minute by minute, Roxy ever-so-gradually sent me headlong toward the nut house. I didn’t know if she did this intentionally or not, but my ability to control myself was slipping. Big time.

  It had gotten so bad that I had to physically remove myself from her company. Maybe it was all the memories I had of her, or maybe the chemistry we’d once shared had somehow reignited between us, but if I didn’t watch it, I’d end up doing something stupid. Like throwing Roxy onto her bed – or down on her floor or bent over her couch – and giving in to what I so desperately yearned for.

  Which, of course, I couldn’t.

  Callie had to be our priority. Always. And as much as I’d love to seek pleasure in the arms of her mother, doing that might ruin the truce we’d been clinging to by the barest of degrees. I’d been cautious during every conversation I’d held with Roxy, especially when it devolved into an argument. Instead of yelling and screaming like I was usually wont to do, I’d stuffed down most of my anger for the sake of the greater good.

  Now that I’d had a chance to get used to the idea of being a dad, I’d come to a powerful conclusion. Nothing was more important to me than being whatever Callie needed. Liddell Enterprises didn’t matter. My father’s death didn’t matter. My mother’s consistent disapproval didn’t matter.

  If anyone were to challenge me by putting my daughter up against anything else in my life, whatever that other thing was would lose. Every time. That little girl had wrapped me around her pinky the second I saw her, and there was no going back now. She owned me, heart and sou
l.

  Which made ignoring my desire for her mother that much more difficult. If Roxy had been one of my many empty conquests it might’ve felt simpler and less of a trial to maintain some personal distance from her. But she wasn’t. Through little to no fault of our own, our past was fraught with deceit, complexities and complications. It made feeling our way forward more like crossing a minefield than a leisurely stroll through the park.

  I couldn’t extract Roxy from my life, but I couldn’t embark on a traditional romantic relationship with her, either. Everything had to be seen through the parental lens of what would be best for Callie without exception. My impetuous nature balked at this, it felt suffocating to not be able to follow my instincts, but I had to make myself apply logic and forethought to every scenario.

  Frankly, it was exhausting.

  If so much hadn’t been at stake, I might’ve already thrown in the towel. But I couldn’t. I felt certain that if I could just be cautious and bide my time, I could determine how to rebuild what I’d once had with Roxy.

  So far, we’d been developing a platonic friendship, even if we fought much more often than we had before. What I wanted was to somehow recreate the love we’d shared while maintaining our roles as mommy and daddy to our daughter. That was my end goal, the outcome I most craved.

  Now, if only I could get there without being blown to pieces.

  My greatest fear was worrying that I would destroy what we currently had. Our interactions remained on shaky ground, tenuous and fragile. I felt like one wrong word or inadvisable move could topple everything to the ground like the blocks of a Jenga game. I couldn’t afford to let that happen, so I measured everything I did deliberately, even though it tried my patience like nothing else ever had.

  It didn’t help that Roxy seemed to turn all our discussions into fights. Well, maybe fights might have been too strong a term. But so much rode on our ability to communicate, to find common ground, that each time her tone sharpened, I had to force myself to back off. If I let myself follow my more antagonistic nature, I would’ve shouted and bellowed until we either went our own separate ways or wound up killing one another.

  Neither of those would offer me the result I was after, so I bit my tongue on a regular basis.

  It was a wonder I had any of my tongue left.

  Regardless, getting to know my daughter had been a transformative experience. Somehow the universe had decided to bring her into my world, and I was unendingly grateful. I could see so much of myself in her. The way she could lose herself in whatever she focused on with single-minded determination. The way she walked with all her gangly limbs. Her need for affection.

  I’d once had that same need, though I’d been thwarted. I still remembered my father telling me to go away and my mother handing me off to a nanny who was less Mary Poppins and more of a Nurse Ratched. Which, of course, meant that I felt compelled to defy her at every opportunity.

  So when Callie plopped herself in my lap for the first time, not only did I let her, I got a bit choked up while doing it.

  There was a lot of Roxy in Callie, too. Her smile was totally Roxy’s, and so was her resilience. Roxy’s childhood had left much to be desired, yet she’d overcome anything thrown in her path.

  When I thought about how scary it must’ve been for her to face having Callie on her own like she did, it floored me. She was stronger than I’d ever be, and Callie conquering everything from low birth weight to repeated respiratory issues proved her to be equally as strong.

  Over time, Roxy gave me more and more freedom to be with her. She’d started out as a wary monitor to the interactions I had with my daughter, but now, she seemed confident that Callie would be safe with me. I might not have known much about raising children initially, but I’d done everything I could over the past two months to learn.

  I hoped it proved to be enough.

  Today, a Saturday, Roxy had approved a plan where I’d be left alone with Callie while she completed her shifts as a hostess and a bartender. It would measure how I did with her all day and into the night. I’d been looking forward to this, despite being nervous.

  Before leaving, Roxy gave me a list of numbers including the one to the Poison Control Center, Callie’s pediatrician, the closest hospital, the pharmacy down the block and her roommate Raina’s number, even though she’d be out of town.

  “Call me first, of course, and then nine-one-one. Unless something terrible happens and you need to reverse the order,” she’d instructed, as if I didn’t already know this. I didn’t pick on Roxy for it. I knew she was as anxious as I felt.

  The funny thing was that everything went off without a hitch.

  After getting her a snack, Callie played dress up with her dolls. Once she’d switched out their outfits several times – and asked my opinion of each individual dress – she decided her dolls shouldn’t be the only ones in on the fun. She proceeded to try on every item in her closet, twirling for me like she was in a fashion show. I clapped and whistled for each one, loving to hear her giggle and to see the twinkle in her eyes.

  Things took a peculiar turn when she told me she wanted me to dress up, too. I wasn’t sure what my cooperation would entail since nothing of hers would fit, but Callie solved this by grabbing scarves that must have belonged to Roxy. My daughter covered me in them until I looked like a member of some demented male harem. Apparently deciding I needed to be a superhero as well, she took her red Supergirl cape and tied it around my shoulders.

  But if I’d thought her to be finished with me, I was sorely mistaken.

  After that, she went into the bathroom and brought in a collection of hair clips in every color of the rainbow. Once my hair was thoroughly prettied up – the effect of the clips, scarves, and cape with my goatee was interesting to say the least – Callie then concentrated on her own beautification, donning every hair doodad in the bathroom. I put her up on the counter so she could see how we looked side by side in the mirror.

  “We’re glam...glamoroos,” she exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

  “Glamorous?” I suggested, and at the brightening of her complexion, knew I must’ve interpreted correctly. “You are absolutely, positively, the most glamorous little girl I’ve ever seen. Cute and adorable, too.”

  “Cute and adorable,” she cheered, bouncing up and down. “Cute and adorable!”

  I took out my phone. “Should we take a selfie to show your mommy?”

  “Yay!” was the response I received, so taking that as an emphatic yes, I snapped about twenty-five pictures as we posed with greater and greater levels of silliness.

  I showed Callie how to flick through them afterwards, and we went to the cushioned rocking chair in her pink and purple bedroom. She squealed and giggled on my lap, making me squeal and giggle with her, then she turned that cherubic face toward mine. “Would you like to be my daddy?” Stunned into silence, I remained mute, but then she said, “You can if you want. You’re goofy and I love you.”

  I huffed out a startled laugh. She said the words so guilelessly, so matter-of-factly, that I answered with unvarnished honesty. “I love you, too. And I’d really like to be your daddy.”

  Only after I’d already admitted the truth did it occur to me that maybe Roxy would be upset at this. I hadn’t explained to Callie that I literally was her father, but it still felt like I’d let the cat out of the bag. This wasn’t the kind of information that should be said off the cuff like that. Anxiety descended on me like a bird of prey.

  Christ, I hope I didn’t just fuck up all the progress we've made.

  Before I could go very far in the process of tearing myself a new one, I heard an inhalation of breath and turned. Roxy stood there at the threshold to Callie’s room, her eyes suspiciously shiny and her mouth curved into a plastered-on smile. I glanced at my watch, chagrined to see it was so late. I’d fed Callie lunch and dinner, but not long ago, we’d also had some chocolate chip cookies and milk together. She was still wide awake and in no apparent hurry t
o sleep.

  “Whatcha doing, baby girl?”

  “Playing with Daddy.”

  With only the briefest of pauses, Roxy asked, “Did you two have a good time?”

  “We played dress up.”

  “I can see that.”

  I hoped I could fix this with an apology, but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, the front door creaked open and our daughter called out, “Raina!” She raced off to welcome her, leaving her mother and I alone.

  “Look, Roxy, I probably shouldn’t have said anything or kept her up so far past her bedtime, but-”

  Then she shocked the holy living shit out of me by falling into my arms and holding me tight. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamt of this? Seeing you two together with her calling you Daddy?”

  Oh. “So you’re okay with this?”

  “I’m elated over this.”

  Feeling awfully damn elated myself, I glanced down at her. Her seafoam green eyes were wet, her expression triumphant, and her bow-shaped mouth almost touching mine. It seemed the most natural thing ever to press my lips to hers, and the second I did, a sense of fulfillment settled over me, as if our kiss had completed some invisible electrical circuit.

  She tasted fruity and sweet, and I deepened the kiss, caught up in the need to go further, to seek out more. Her arms cinched around my torso and she opened to me, her tongue massaging mine and her fingers dipping from my shoulder blades to down along my spine.

  Everything else ceased to exist. It was like it’d been years ago. There was me, and there was Roxy. Just us. At least until we heard a gasp. Breaking apart, we glanced up to spot Raina in the doorway. Her eyes as round as saucers, she spoke, one hand to her throat.

  “I was going to make a midnight snack and wondered how much food we’d need.”

  “Enough for four,” Roxy said, peeking back up at me, offering her reassurance that what had transpired between us was no fluke. It made me grin like a lunatic. “Definitely four.”

 

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