He didn’t buy my innocent expression . . . but he didn’t respond with a veiled lewd comment either.
My naughty smirk stayed in place as I walked away, leaving them to spend time alone together.
I’d unloaded my research—aka other companies’ ad campaigns and marketing blitzes—for the new spa products campaign geared toward late teen/early twentysomething women, and dove in.
Since I’d freelanced from home during Mimi’s toddler years, I could block out everything and concentrate on the project at hand.
Mimi’s tap on the shoulder startled me. “Hey. You done already?”
Jax chuckled. “It’s been an hour and a half since we’ve heard anything from you.”
“Sorry. I was in the zone.”
“Go back to it. After Meems is ready for bed, I’ll listen to her read and tuck her in.”
Mimi hugged me. “Night, Mommy. Thanks for the best day.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. Love you.”
And I returned to the zone without problem, not breaking free from it until Jax flopped next to me on the couch.
“Man. She was wound up today.”
“She used to be like that every day. It was exhausting.”
“I can’t imagine.”
I gathered the materials I’d spread out everywhere and stacked them on the coffee table. Then I faced Jax, who wore a sheepish look. “What?”
“Remember when we first started dating and you made me tell you a few things that I was bad at?”
I nodded.
“After tonight we can add crafting to that list.” He held out a tangled object that I assumed was a bracelet. “Go ahead and laugh.”
“Well, it’s not . . . totally hideous. It’s completely unwearable, but you earned a solid C for effort.”
He laughed. “Mimi insisted I make it specifically for you and give it to you, now that you and I are friends.”
My gaze zoomed to his. “Is that all she said? That we’re friends? Nothing about—”
“Seeing us macking on each other rink side?” He shook his head. “Maybe at her age that’s all she’s capable of seeing, since she thinks most boys are smelly and stupid.”
“You have a point. She’s never seen me in a romantic relationship, so she would call this a friendship.”
Jax reached out and twined a hank of my hair around his finger. “What would you call it, Luce?”
“Confusing.”
He said nothing for several long moments; he just continued that motion of wrapping and unwrapping my hair. Finally he said, “About Saturday night . . .”
I shocked him by shifting to sit on his lap with my knees tucked beside his thighs and pressing my fingers over his lips. “I’ve had just as much time to think about it as you have. Yesterday I came to the realization that I owe you an apology.”
He tried to protest, but I shook my head and pressed harder against his mouth.
“I talk, you listen. I told you I wanted everything between us to unfold organically. And my offer of a massage didn’t have ulterior motives . . . at first. But as soon as you let me touch you, I remembered how much I loved touching you, and rather than being content with that one small step, I pushed it. I pushed you into a place you didn’t want to be, and I’m sorry. So sorry, Jax. I made you uncomfortable, it made you leave and that made me mad. When I simmered down, I realized I was in the wrong, not you for removing yourself from a situation you weren’t ready to be in. So I am sorry, okay?”
His fingers circled my wrist, pulling my hand from his mouth. But those vivid blue eyes that I loved roamed over my face, as if he was searching for something.
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“For understanding. For being better at this stuff than I am. For proving you’ve changed as well.” He returned to twisting that section of my hair. “We agreed to not bring up the past, but I have to say that the old Lucy wouldn’t have been able to let that go. You would’ve given me the silent treatment until I cracked and had to pick a fight so we could talk about it.”
“True.” I groaned. “And I always considered myself the more mature one in our relationship.”
“Yeah, well, I reverted today when I accused you of keeping Mimi out of practice because of what’d happened between us Saturday night. Sorry for that, by the way.”
“Apology accepted.”
Jax tugged me closer by the hair, until my mouth was mere inches from his, until those soulful eyes were right where I could see every emotion I felt mirrored in his. “Can we kiss and make up now?”
“God yes. Please.”
The kiss destroyed me from the first touch of his lips to mine.
Achingly sweet.
Unhurried.
Tender.
Passionate.
Fresh and hungry and possessive and perfect.
So freaking perfect that I almost burst into tears—but then I would’ve had to relinquish his lips, and that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Jax finally had to pull my hair to get my attention.
I buried my face in his neck and closed my eyes, letting my silence say everything I couldn’t.
Eventually I moved to sit beside him.
“Tell me about your week so far.”
He clasped my hand in his. “I’ve worked out with Nolan every morning. Dealt with remodel issues, which there always seem to be a fuck-ton of. Had a meeting with Chris about some swampland he wants me to buy.”
“Seriously?”
“No. It’s partially designated a wetlands area that might as well be a swamp for all the good it’d do me to own something I can’t develop. I spent last night reading up on skill drills and making a practice graph so the kids didn’t have another wasted hour on the ice.”
“How did it go tonight?”
“Great. The kids were attentive and excited, and I hadn’t seen that response in any of them with Coach D. I wish Mimi would’ve been there.”
I squeezed his hand. “Next week. And I have to hand it to you, you did an amazing job talking it out with her tonight. I’m relieved that you got her to admit why she was upset. And if I thought she’d react that way to you becoming an official team coach, I wouldn’t have suggested a parent take over the position.”
“If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else. I had an open discussion with the parents tonight, before I knew how much it bothered Mimi, that my coaching was a temporary fix. Gabi is next in line for the position and to run that program. I’d never step in front of her.” He sighed. “And to be honest, I don’t want the commitment. The only reason I’m there is for Mimi. If she decides hockey isn’t for her, I don’t want to be stuck coaching other kids for an entire season.”
“I’m happy to hear that too.”
“Along those lines, tomorrow afternoon we’re meeting with Agnes Lindholm, Lakeside’s owner, about getting Gabi reinstated as coach.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Gabi.”
That didn’t sound right. “Why Gabi? Why not Margene?”
“Because Agnes loves that former Olympian Gabi is a Lakeside coach. Quite a feather in her cap, according to Margene. We’re hoping when she hears what an unbelievable asshole Dennis has been to Gabi . . . Jesus, you should hear some of the shit he’s said to her. I couldn’t believe it when she told me.”
How much time had he been spending with Coach Welk that he’d become her confidant?
“Plus, get this,” he continued. “Dennis refused to give Gabi time off to go to the Olympics! The Olympics that her sister is playing in. What a tool. Gabi was worried she’d have to quit Lakeside, and I can’t imagine that Agnes would let that happen. Anyway, I have no idea how long it’ll take because Agnes defines eccentric, and yeah, I realize that’s coming from a Lund, so I wo
n’t be able to get Meems from school tomorrow.”
“That’s all right. I can get her. But if you’re planning on her staying in your new digs Friday night, can she be with you all day Saturday and spend Saturday night too?”
“Sure. What’s going on with you?”
“It’s getting close to Lennox’s due date, and we’re spending Saturday dividing up her responsibilities. Annika is not happy about it, because Axl is home over a weekend without a game scheduled. But we’re so busy during the week that we haven’t had time to do this and Lennox is freaking out.”
“Are you telling me that Lennox is forcing you all to work Saturday? Even her boss?”
I laughed. “Yep. That’s Lennox. She wants to make sure no one fucks up anything while she’s on maternity leave, especially the boss.”
“Maybe I should bring Lennox along when we talk to Agnes.”
“Or maybe you should just bring Agnes flowers. That’ll soften her up.”
His brow furrowed and he said, “Flowers?” as if he’d never heard of them.
“All women love to get flowers.”
Jax nudged my chin until I met his gaze. “I’ve never given you flowers, Luce. Not once.”
What was I supposed to say to that?
“I could’ve given you so much and I gave you nothing.”
“Jax. I never wanted things from you. I only wanted your time.”
He closed his eyes. “I couldn’t even give you that.”
I kissed him. “No dwelling on or brooding about what can’t be changed.”
Then he gave me a huge-ass grin.
“What?”
He picked up the friendship bracelet. “This counts as jewelry, right?”
“Only in the loosest definition of the term.”
“But I can give you this.” He tried to hold my wrist in place so he could tie it on and I resisted. “Will you wear this friendship bracelet that I handcrafted for you?”
“Uh. No.”
“Then I’ll just have to give you something that you will wear, won’t I?” He kissed my surprised mouth. “Challenge accepted. Now gimme another kiss to hold me until I see you again.”
“You’re not staying over?”
He shook his head and returned to kissing me.
I didn’t push him for a reason. He had so many irons in the fire that he probably needed a night to himself.
Eighteen
JAX
I was about to lose my shit with Mimi.
And didn’t that just make me the worst father in the world?
Fuck, but the kid was being a brat today.
At least I hadn’t called her a brat to her face. That counted as parental restraint, right?
I’d been muddling through this attitude of hers for six hours.
Six. Hours.
I’d let her sleep in this morning after we’d had a late Friday night watching movies in the new theater room. Sleeping in on Saturdays usually tamed Mimi’s morning beast, but it had awaked in full roar mode, which made me wonder if Mimi had reverted to that behavior and Lucy had been letting it slide and not telling me about it.
Mimi refused to come out of her room for breakfast.
I didn’t insist; I figured I’d have to pick my battles with her today.
When she emerged an hour later, still in her pajamas, asking me to make her pancakes, I told her she’d missed breakfast and would have to wait until lunch to eat.
She started crying.
Like a total sucker I said she could have cereal. But she didn’t want cereal. Now she wanted yogurt. When I told her I hadn’t bought yogurt, she looked at me like I’d forgotten her birthday. Then she informed me that “Mommy always buys me yogurt” and that she was going down to her apartment to get some.
I said no and she threw a screaming Mimi fit.
I let her.
Realizing I wouldn’t relent, she announced she was taking a bubble bath in her new tub. She sneered at my offer to help her, reminding me that she wasn’t a baby. But I ended up in her bathroom anyway, throwing towels on the floor to sop up the water and bubbles after she’d overfilled the tub.
After that fiasco, I hoped to see my sweet, contrite girl offering an apology for screwing up, but that Mimi was nowhere to be found.
But I caught Demon Mimi jumping on the bed.
Then I found her standing on the counter looking for ingredients to bake cookies.
The kid about gave me a heart attack because it was a big drop to the floor if she would’ve lost her balance.
That stunt earned her fifteen minutes in time-out, which turned into another fifteen minutes because she would not keep her butt in the chair. That forced me to sit across from her so it felt like I was punishing myself.
I cooked macaroni and cheese for lunch—at her request—which she refused to eat more than three bites of because it “looked funny.”
After lunch I settled her in the theater room, so I could have an hour to myself to go over the paperwork from the meeting with Agnes.
Mimi lasted ten minutes before she was “bored” and asking if she could get her “good” toys from the apartment.
I said no, knowing she’d ask me ten minutes after that to go back down there and get something else.
So she ran off and hid.
I was starting to question whether a six-thousand-square-foot apartment was a good idea, because there were a fuck-ton of places for a resourceful kid to hide.
When I finally found her, I chewed her out.
She’d burst into tears again and sobbed that she wanted her mommy.
At that point, I wanted my mommy too.
I’d had three very stressful days in a row, and I just wanted to chill in my new place. Instead of the lazy, fun Saturday I’d envisioned for us—cooking together, watching a movie, setting up her bedroom—I’d been smacked with the ugly truth that I actually disliked my child today.
Oh, I loved her, and tomorrow things would be back to normal, but for today . . . I’d had it. I didn’t know how Lucy did it, besides the fact she had no other options and had to figure out a way to deal with hell-girl, but I was throwing in the towel and calling for backup.
The phone rang four times before she picked up.
The first thing out of my mouth? “Help.”
My mom arrived half an hour later with my dad, which was a surprise.
Mimi launched herself at Grandma.
After calming Mimi with soft, soothing words, Mom handed her off to Grandpa.
My dad grabbed Mimi’s coat and backpack, sent me an encouraging smile and disappeared into the elevator with my daughter, who hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye to me.
Yep. I had this parenting gig down cold.
Not.
As I stood there feeling stupid, mean and sorry for myself, staring at the elevator door like a lost puppy, my mom wrapped her arms around me in a huge hug.
I closed my eyes and enfolded her more tightly in my arms, catching her familiar scent—Chanel No. 5 perfume, hair spray and coffee. Even in heels the top of her head barely reached above my sternum, but for just a moment, I was a kid again, when Mom’s hugs made everything better.
We remained that way for a while, even when I tried to pull away because I knew Dad was waiting for her. But she squeezed me harder and held on.
When I sighed and released some of the tension in my body, she finally let me go.
She stepped back only far enough to place both her hands on my cheeks, allowing her to gaze into my eyes. “Every parent has a bad day with their child. It’s normal. You’ve done nothing wrong, son. You just need a little break from each other. That’s it.”
“You’re sure?”
“We raised two bullheaded, bright, boisterous boys, who oftentimes stomped on my last nerve before set
ting it on fire, so yeah, honey. I’m sure.”
I groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“You were a kid. Kids are the most self-involved creatures on the planet.”
“I’m sorry that I grew up to be a self-involved man.” I released a slow breath as she studied me. “You’ve just rolled with everything I’ve done, or not done. Been beside me every step of the way, even through the rockiest parts, and I know I don’t say it often enough, but thank you. I want to be the kind of parent to Mimi that you’ve always been to me. The kind of parent you still are to me.” I smiled. “You are the very, very best mom in the whole entire universe, and I love you more than Christmas.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she lightly tapped my cheeks. “That’s for making me cry. And I still have that card with the effusive praise you made me when you were ten.” She smirked. “I had to take it out every couple of months and reread it during your teen years just to remind myself that my sweet child did exist somewhere inside the sulky, stinky teenage boy.”
I laughed.
“Don’t worry about Mimi. She’ll be fine with Grandpa and me. It’s you I worry about.” Her eyes searched mine. “How long has it been?”
Since I’ve had a drink?
Since I’ve had sex?
Mom clucked her tongue because apparently she’d read my mind. “Not those things, son. How long since you’ve played?”
And she knew. She always did.
“Months. It’s not like I have anyone I can play with.”
“Go to the rink and suit up anyway.”
“Mom—”
“You’re missing that part of who you are, Jax. Of who you’ve always been. Reconnect with it even if it’s just skating by yourself as you pretend the Red Wings are on your tail and shooting pucks like you’re on a breakaway in game seven of the semifinals.”
Once again, she’d nailed exactly what I needed. “I hate that you’re always right.”
She laughed. “I know.”
When she reached the elevator, she turned. “Text me the five W’s as soon as you’ve figured it out so I don’t worry.”
Some things never changed; Mom demanding the five W’s—our family code for who, what, when, where, why—before she and Dad let me or Nolan leave the house.
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