“Luce. I’m—”
“I know, you’re sorry,” she said with a hint of bitterness. “But I couldn’t talk to my mom either because she’d taken the ‘he was a player; you should’ve known he’d cheat on you’ tack. I hadn’t been looking for sympathy, or someone to vent to about you; I wanted my mom’s advice on Mimi’s baby issues. Why she was gassy. Why she was crying. Why she didn’t sleep. I didn’t have any girlfriends who had kids, and I’d had to stop working, so I’d lost contact with all of my work friends too. Here I had this beautiful, healthy baby that I loved with my entire being, but I was so miserable and alone.”
I didn’t bother to swipe away the tears that leaked out. When one dripped on her forehead she cranked her head around to look at me.
Every bit of guilt and self-hatred for the type of man I’d been shone in my eyes, and again, I didn’t mask it. I didn’t apologize. I just let her see the misery I held on to now, for all the distress she’d dealt with back then.
Then she did the sweetest thing. She set her hand on the side of my face and wiped the dampness from my eyes.
An eternity stretched between us before I found my voice again. “Can we ever get past any of this?”
“Believe it or not, I am past a lot of it. You were who you were. That’s who I fell for. So when you behaved exactly as you always had, I had to agree with my mom that my heartache over you was somewhat self-inflicted.”
“Jesus, Lucy, no. You are not taking any of the blame for me fucking around on you.”
She studied me. Opened her mouth. Closed it.
“What?”
“Dude, I’ve never blamed myself for your cheating ways.”
I must’ve looked confused.
“I always knew you’d cheat on me, Jaxson. That’s why I didn’t demand a promise of fidelity from you. That’s why I refused to marry you when we discovered I was pregnant. My heartache was self-inflicted because even knowing that eventually you’d fuck someone else, I couldn’t walk away from you before it happened. After the first time I saw pictures of you with someone else . . .”
The guilt sent my heart racing but I forced myself to ask, “How did you find out?”
“A coworker saw that a puck bunny had tagged you in a tweet—complete with a picture of the two of you hanging out half-naked in a hotel room bed—and showed it to me out of concern. I laughed it off. But that was the beginning of the end for us as a couple.” She looked away from me. “I’d considered playing like it hadn’t happened, but that would’ve made me like my mother and every other woman who believes it was a onetime thing.” She paused. “I don’t know if that was the first time, but you made no attempt to hide it. You were aware of how I felt about cheating and that as soon as I found out that I’d be done with you, with us.”
“I knew. But at the time? I didn’t care because we’d been apart more than we’d been together. You were pregnant, you refused to move to Chicago and I was having the best season of my career. I wanted to celebrate with my team and anyone else who we invited to party with us.” The advice I’d gotten had come from a veteran player I admired . . . all the more reason to consider it gospel. I realized now that I’d still had the ability to be starstruck, which zapped every bit of common sense.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Lucy said softly.
“It’s self-centered and crude, and I’m embarrassed that I actually believed the narcissistic bullshit that one of my idols beat into my head that championship year, so it’s not something I want to relive or repeat.”
“After that intriguing intro you have no choice but to share it.”
My Lucy. I’d always loved, hated, and admired that she didn’t pull any punches. “This bonus confession can’t put me in any worse light, so here goes. At training camp I got paired for drills with my idol. After practice we’d go out and we were immediately surrounded. He wallowed in it; I ignored it. So when he asked why I wasn’t balls deep in a different bunny every night, I told him you were pregnant. Called you my girlfriend, and his response was at least I hadn’t fucked up completely by marrying you.”
She mumbled something about dick-punching the douchebag.
As much as it sucked to tell her this, Lucy had a right to know, since this dude’s “advice” had been a catalyst for bad changes in my life. “Camp ended, the season started and he said we owed it to ourselves to live large during the season. And we earned our reputations with nonstop parties, booze, bunnies. It didn’t occur to me until later that I was the only friend from our team that this man had.
“About two weeks after you gave birth to Mimi, a birth I complained about missing, he told me I could be a father after my hockey career ended. He gave me this spiel about our bodies being in prime form and we owed it to ourselves, our fans, our teammates, our club and the world to focus solely on hockey. After we retired, then we could be the husband, father, son, whatever role we’d neglected during our glory years. He pointed out that kids don’t remember anything from the first five years of their lives anyway. So even if I ignored my daughter for a few years, the money I made being a franchise player would buy me back into her good graces. And I ate that shit up. It remained my mantra for the next six years. It wasn’t until my counseling sessions in rehab that I understood what a narcissistic motherfucker I’d been, believing all would be forgiven once I started throwing money around. So yeah, I’m fully aware that time lost can never be replaced but money lost can. I’m trying to make emotional restitution.”
“When did you start to do that? Because even before you hit bottom or whatever, the times you had custody of Mimi here in the Cities, you pawned her off on your mom and dad or Nolan. You might’ve had our daughter for a few weeks, but you weren’t spending that time with her.”
“She told you?” I groaned. “Christ, that hits me where it hurts. She was like . . . four.”
“Wasn’t like she tattled. And I didn’t demand she tell me how you two spent every minute of every day. She just expressed disappointment that you weren’t around as much as you’d promised.”
“I was drinking heavily as soon as the season ended. Since I didn’t have a house here, I crashed with my parents. They doted on Mimi and me, to some degree, leaving me alone to brood and drink while they did the activities with her that I was too drunk to do. Nolan called me out on it, and I was a total dick to him about it. I managed to keep up the appearance of being a good father when we attended Lund family functions. Wouldn’t want my other family members to see how seriously I’d fucked up my life.”
“Jax.”
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she let me. “I hate telling you this, Luce. I hate that I was that guy. I can assure you that I’m not that way anymore. I’ve grown up, sobered up, wised up, but actions speak louder than words. I’m hoping going forward you’ll judge me on the actions I’m taking now, not what I’d gotten away with for so long.”
She adjusted her body and looked up at me. “You don’t consider buying the top floor of this apartment building and remodeling it with the intent to move in and keeping it a secret from us . . . a douchebag move?”
“Maybe a little.”
Those beautiful brown eyes continued to bore into me.
“What?”
“No excuses?”
“Nope. I should’ve told you. And Mimi.”
“Level with me, sport. You didn’t just buy the top floor. You own the whole building, don’t you?”
I fought a blush and lost. “Yeah. In my defense, real estate is always a good investment.”
She snickered. “There’s a Lund excuse. ‘It’s just good business.’”
“And it’ll be good for Mimi. We’re both here.”
“Kinda renders the ‘she needs a cell phone’ argument moot, doesn’t it?”
“Hey. I had nothing to do with that.”
“I believe you
.”
I brushed her hair from her forehead. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Talking to me. Listening to me. Being far more reasonable about all of these changes than—”
“You thought I’d be?” she supplied.
“Yeah.”
“You weren’t the only one who had to make personal and lifestyle changes, Jax. There were things about myself I didn’t like either. Tendencies and traits I’d be embarrassed for my daughter to witness. Up until tonight I thought I’d done a good job keeping our interactions friendly. On an even keel.” Her chin wobbled. “I guess I proved I can ‘go big’ when I fuck up.”
“When we hit the boiling point, babe—look out. It’s always been like that for us.”
“I know. We still don’t allow ourselves much time for a cooling-off period, do we?”
For just a moment, her eyes darkened and I could almost see the memories flying through her mind.
Fighting over everything because we needed an explosive moment as a catalyst to break down both of our walls. Then immediately we were climbing through the rubble to get to each other.
Did it make me an idiot to hope that tonight we’d leveled some of the walls between us? When I knew we still had several more obstacles in front of us?
Lucy’s eyes searched mine. “Jax?”
I cleared my throat. “We haven’t decided how we’re going to deal with Mimi.”
“She’ll only care about one thing: whether or not she gets to try hockey. The minute we say yes, we’re golden.”
I grinned.
“Anything else we need to dissect right now? Because I didn’t get to eat dinner and I’m starving.” Almost on cue, her stomach rumbled.
The reference to her date doused my good mood. “Sorry about ruining your date, Luce.”
“No, you’re not.”
She’d said it teasingly, but I wasn’t sure if I could match that light tone.
“You’re right. I’m not. If your sister called him a Pencil-Neck Geek . . .”
She groaned. “Mimi rarely pays attention to what Aunt Lindsey says, especially after the wine starts flowing, so of course she picked up on that. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“Regarding future dates with this Demon guy?”
Lucy laughed. “Damon. And no. That ship has sailed.”
Good fucking riddance.
“Seriously, Jax? Good fucking riddance?”
“I thought I’d said that under my breath.”
“Since I’m only half a face away from your breath, you knew I’d hear that.”
Of course I did. “Is ‘half a face away’ a new measurement I missed in math class?”
She poked me in the ribs. “You know what I meant, jerk.”
“And you know that I meant good fucking riddance to him.”
“Why?”
Because I want you—I want this—back.
But instead of blurting that out, for the first time tonight, I deflected. “How many times have you been out with Darwin?”
“Damon,” she corrected. “I met him for coffee and drinks before I agreed to a date. We went out for dinner two weeks ago. Then dinner tonight. But I didn’t count the friendly meet ups as dates, although apparently he did. He seemed insistent on calling it our fourth date, when I considered it a second date. But since tonight’s date got interrupted, it doesn’t count. So we’ve gone out once.” Her eyes searched mine. “Why?”
“Just thinking about our first and second dates. Wondering how they compare.”
“There’s no comparison, as you’re well aware.”
“Yeah? Do you remember what we did on our fourth date?”
She shook her head . . . not very convincingly.
“How about our fifth date?” I prompted.
Lucy blinked those enormous brown eyes at me. “Um. Actually no, I don’t remember.”
I whispered, “Liar.” Then, “Did you catch my meaning from half a face away? Because I can come in closer.”
“Or I could make you back up.”
I snagged her hand when she tried to poke me again. “No tickling.”
“Hey! That’s the only way I can level the playing field, because you’re so much bigger and you’d squash me like a bug.”
There’d been a time when she begged me to fully press my larger body over hers. With this body-to-body contact and the easy way we’d fallen back into being together, I was tempted to check her response if I tried to kiss her.
Patience, man. You pushed boundaries tonight and she hasn’t pushed you away. Consider this a win.
Her stomach rumbled again.
I nudged her until she was upright. “The least I can do is feed you. Since we already have a babysitter, do you want to go out?”
“God no.”
“Pizza delivery it is.” I dug my phone out and called up the closest delivery place. While I waited for them to pick up, I said, “The usual?” to her.
“Sounds perfect, and don’t forget to order—”
“Breadsticks with ranch, yeah, I remember.”
Lucy stared at me with that “I’m ready to bolt” expression when she realized how quickly and easily we’d slipped back into being Jax and Lucy, the couple. Then she started to back away from me.
Oh hell no. She’d come this far on her own, and I couldn’t let her retreat. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t . . . We can’t . . . I mean, what are we doing, Jax?”
I played dumb. “I’m ordering pizza.”
“That’s not what I meant and you damn well know it.”
“This doesn’t have to mean anything more than us sharing a late-night meal, Lucy Q, as we discuss our daughter’s future activities.”
Maybe she wanted to believe that lie as much as I did, because she smiled and said, “Fine, but if you’re going to be here awhile, better add one of those big cookies onto the order.”
Nine
LUCY
Jax and I stayed up late talking and online browsing the multitude of hockey clubs and ice centers that offered classes. When I realized it was one in the morning, I suggested he stay overnight on the couch instead of driving home. I even managed to pull off a joke about his previous drinking habits that he laughed at. It felt good to be breaking new ground with him.
It’d felt really good being with him like we used to be. I don’t know why I hadn’t fought him on how we positioned ourselves, both of us stretching out on the sofa, with me tucked against his chest and our arms and legs tangled. Maybe it had been ingrained behavior like he’d claimed when he’d given me that soft kiss last week. Maybe we needed the physical connection to deal with our emotional issues. Whatever the reasons, I wasn’t about to regret it now, especially when our discussion had delved deeper than I believed it could.
Since I’d always been a morning person, I got up early and made myself presentable. Then I tidied up my bedroom before I ventured into the living room.
Jax was still asleep. He dwarfed the couch, keeping one leg bent at the knee and resting it against the back cushion. He’d draped one arm across his eyes and the other arm dangled to the floor. In cataloguing his position, I also realized that Jax had stripped down to his boxer briefs as he lounged beneath the afghan my mother had made. An afghan too small to cover his muscular legs, and it barely reached the lower curve of his powerful chest.
Holy crap, I’d forgotten what a work of art his body was. Beautiful, deep-cut musculature everywhere. Wide shoulders, beefy biceps. Even his forearms were corded with muscle. And those hands. Mercy. Big and dotted with calluses. A ridiculously strong grip that could soften into a lover’s gentle caress. Pity he’d hidden half of his face, but that square jaw covered in dark stubble jutted out at me. Even in sleep his sexy lips curved into a knowing smirk.
I must’ve been standing there gawking long enough that Jax sensed me perving on him. He drawled, “Our rule has always been the first one up makes coffee, babe. So, chop-chop.”
Stunned, and embarrassed he’d caught me eyeballing his half-naked body, I said, “Chop-chop . . . ? Really, Lund?”
“Yep. I’m a guest. You’re not being very hospitable, Lucy Q.”
“I was being very hospitable by letting you sleep in for the past hour and not rattling around in the kitchen making coffee!”
“But I’m up now.”
“Doesn’t look like it.”
He grinned. “And she still stands here indignantly, arguing, instead of hotfooting that cute butt into the kitchen and—”
He yelped when I ripped the afghan away.
“New rule, buddy. I—”
Words left me when nothing blocked my view of his pelvis and the thick ridge bulging against his too-tight boxer briefs.
“Gimme that,” he said, and snatched the afghan back to cover himself. “It’s just morning wood, Luce. Don’t take it personal.”
What? He did not just say that.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”
“It’s been a long damn time. And I had no idea that these days thinking about a cup of coffee is what gets you hot and hard first thing in the morning.”
Silence.
That sounded way less suggestive in my head.
In the awkward quiet, the bang of the front door opening into the catchall table was as loud as a gunshot. Then, “Sorry, sis, it’s just me, but I know you’re up.”
My gaze landed on Jax for a split second before my sister wheeled around the corner.
“Hey, good morning. I— Jesus Christ! There’s a naked man on your couch!” Lindsey gasped. Then, realizing it was Jax, she said, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Good to see you again, Lindsey,” Jax said with a cheeky grin.
Lindsey’s wide-eyed gaze winged between us. “I thought you had a date with Damon last night?”
I Want You Back Page 15