Heart of Hope: Books 1-4

by Williams, Ajme

  “So, will you be working again?”

  “No.”

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “Tessa is planning—”

  “I’m going to stay home.”

  “Maisie will be in what grade …?” the woman looked at her paper.

  “First grade,” I said.

  “You could work.”

  “I like making a home. I know it’s very unmodern for a woman today, but for now, I enjoy it.”

  She turned to Dylan. “I see you can afford to live on one income. In fact, you live quite modestly considering your income.”

  I understood how important it was for child welfare to investigate families to make sure they had the means and emotional stability to care for a child, but it felt invasive. Did they look into my financial records too?

  “I don’t need much. Maisie. Tessa. A roof. That’s it,” Dylan said, and that I did believe. Well the Maisie and roof part anyway.

  “Were you raised in a traditional family?” she asked us.

  “I was. My parents live in Brooklyn,” I said.

  “What brought you here?”

  “I came here for college and stayed,” I said. I smiled at Dylan, hoping I looked like a woman in love. “I fell for my neighbor.”

  Dylan brought my hand to his lips. It was so strange how the gesture both made me happy and so sad at the same time. It wasn’t real, I had to remind myself.

  “What about you, Mr. Hyatt?”

  “I was raised by a single mom, mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “She remarried a few times, but none stuck.” I heard the edge of tension in his voice, but he worked to maintain a smile.

  “It sounds like it wasn’t as steady as what you’re providing Maisie,” she said, apparently hearing his tone as well.

  “No. It was difficult, to be honest, which is why I’ve worked so hard to provide Maisie with a stable home.”

  I wished I could know what happened to him as a kid, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

  “Single fatherhood isn’t as unusual now as it used to be, but I need to ask how it was you got custody the first time.”

  “Veronica wanted out. I stayed.”

  The social worker studied him as if she were waiting for him to elaborate. “She wanted a divorce but didn’t take Maisie?”

  “Veronica and I married young. I think we were caught up in the idea of a fairy tale. The reality, at least for her, was very different. I was happy to live in a small town, run my business, and raise my child. Veronica wanted more. So, she left to get it.”

  “And you were okay with that?”

  He shrugged. “By the time it happened, I could see it coming. She was unhappy. Life here with me was boring, at least that’s what she said.”

  “And what about Maisie?”

  He took a minute and I had to admire his restraint in choosing his words carefully. “Maisie didn’t fit into Veronica’s plans at the time. She had a dream to pursue.”

  “So, you were left to care for Maisie alone.”

  He scowled. “It wasn’t like that. I’d have fought her then if she tried to take Maisie. I love my life. I love being Maisie’s father. I’d choose it over anything and anyone. So no, I wasn’t left with her. I didn’t get her by default.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that. I can see you take fatherhood very seriously.”

  The social worker spoke to us a little longer and then asked to see Maisie, who’d gone next door to play beauty shop with Corrine and Allison. Maisie was her usual friendly, curious self with the social worker. She presented as a well-adjusted, happy child, which had to bode well for Dylan. I didn’t want her to be unhappy with Veronica, but I did hope that Maisie’s level of ease and comfort with Dylan was more obvious than with her.

  Later, when Maisie was in bed, Dylan went to his home office. I’d have liked to discuss the day with him, but since he didn’t seem to want to talk, I read a little bit and then went to bed.

  When he came to bed, he rolled to his side and set his hand on my hip. “Tessa?”

  “Hmm?” I turned my head back to look at him.

  “Are you not planning to go to school in the fall?”

  I shook my head. “I think until this is resolved, I should stay home. It will give you bonus points, especially if Veronica plans to work some.” I didn’t know if that was true. I wasn’t sure if judges held work against mothers these days.

  He watched me for a moment. “I hate for you to lose time.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” The truth was, I couldn’t imagine getting my brain to work academically with all this going on. When I agreed to help, I figured things would go along as usual, and for the most part they had. I watched Maisie while Dylan worked, and hung out with them after dinner. But the custody battle had a level of tension hanging over the house that was starting to tire me out, mentally and physically.

  “Well, I’ve just hired a private investigator and maybe he’ll find something that will resolve this sooner rather than later.”

  “Investigator?” I rolled over to look at him. “For what?”

  “I want dirt on Veronica.”

  That didn’t sound like the Dylan I knew. “That seems a little underhanded.”

  His eyes turned fierce. “I’ve never hid the fact that I’d do anything to keep Maisie. Besides, there’s something about this that doesn’t feel right. Why go for sole custody after being gone for years? Why not ask for joint?”

  He was right about that, but still. “What if he finds something?”

  “Then I’ll use it.”

  “What if Veronica and Leo hire someone to check on you?”

  “Let ‘em. I have nothing to hide,” he said with confidence. I wondered if that was true. Not that I thought Dylan had a skeleton in his closet, but it was amazingly easy to take some seemingly benign thing and turn it into something malignant. Or maybe they’d figure out our marriage was fake.

  “How about, you married your babysitter to get custody?”

  He shrugged. “We’ve explained that.”

  I was sure that if anyone dug deep enough, they’d find holes in our story. Like how no one in our lives knew we were dating or how neither of us announced our engagement when it was supposed to have happened.

  “What about Maisie?” I asked.

  He let out an annoyed sigh. “What about her?”

  “Do you want to risk her hearing about dirt on her mother? Whether you like it or not, Veronica is Maisie’s mother. Maisie could be hurt—”

  “If Maisie is hurt, it’s on Veronica.”

  I could see there was no talking to him. There was no reason to try. He’d been clear about my role. About my place. I turned to go to sleep.

  “Tessa.” He scooted closer, spooning me. Instinct had me settling against him even as my brain told me to keep my distance.

  “Hmm?” I stayed where I was.

  “This is me.”

  That was a weird statement. I turned my head back. “What do you mean?”

  “Deep down, I’m a scrapper. I was raised in a chaotic, sometimes violent home. I survived by fighting. Not necessarily with my fists, although I’d be lying if I said I never used them.”

  I turned toward him again as a wave of compassion flowed through me. I wanted to hold the abused boy inside the man next to me.

  “I don’t plan to use my fists now, but I’ll fight however I have to. That’s who I am.”

  I pressed my hand to his cheek. “I can see that, but you’re also a loving father. You’re a generous caring man. Don’t lose him.”

  He stared at me for a long time. “You see that?”

  “I do.”

  “Maisie has definitely helped me smooth out the rough edges, but—”

  “You’ve always been a good person, Dylan. Maisie might have helped you discover him, but he was always there.”

  “You’re amazing, do you know that?” His gaze drifted over my face until f
inally returning to my eyes. “I don’t deserve you—”

  I groaned. “Stop. I’m tired of hearing that.”

  He smiled. “Sorry. It’s true. I say it mostly when I have powerful feelings of wanting you.”

  “What?”

  “I want you. When I feel that, I remind myself that I don’t deserve you. I hurt you, and before this is done, I feel like I’ll hurt you more. And yet, I can’t stop wanting you. I can keep myself from touching you, but if you said it was okay, I’d touch you in a minute even though I know I don’t deserve it.”

  “What do you deserve?”

  “I like to think I deserve to be Maisie’s father.”

  “You do.” Touching him would be a mistake. It would give my heart the false feeling that we had something more than we did. Even so, I pulled my nightgown off, loving how his eyes flashed with desire as my bare skin settled against his.

  “You deserve to feel good, too.” I wanted to say he deserved me, but he was so in denial about that, I settled on sex.

  He pulled me close, and his erection was already fully pressing against my belly. “You do make me feel good, Tessa.” If only I could make him feel love.

  “Then you should undress.”

  He flashed a wicked grin. “As you wish.” He rolled back, undressing and tossing his clothes aside.

  Before he could pull me back to him, I pushed him and straddled his thighs. “I want to try being on top.”

  His hands slid up my thighs. “Whatever you want, baby.”

  The few times we’d had sex, Dylan took the lead, unless I was giving him a blow job. But even then, he’d eventually get me under him or between him and the shower wall, and take control. This time I wanted a turn to set the pace and be in control.

  I looked down at his dick, thick and hard as it lay on his belly. “Sometimes I can’t believe that thing fits in me.”

  “It’s a perfect fit,” he murmured as his hands kneaded my breasts and pinched my nipples.

  “Do you like it when the woman is on top?”

  He laughed. “I’m easy, baby. Top, bottom, sideways … any way, I’ll like it.” He levered up. “But whatever way, you need to be ready.” He tugged on one nipple with his teeth while his finger slid between my folds.

  I let out a moan as his touch sent erotic sizzles through me. “Dylan.”

  “Yes?” His mouth switched to my other breast.

  “I want to be in control.”

  “Then take it.”

  It was hard to do anything with sweet sensations coursing through my bloodstream. Finding my wits, I pressed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back.

  His eyes flashed with heat as he lay looking up at me. “What are you going to do to me?”

  I maneuvered over his dick and slid my pussy along its length.

  He let out a sigh. There was only one thing I knew how to do. I pushed his tip to my entrance, and using my body weight, sank down, taking him inside me.

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” he sighed again, his eyes closing.

  He was right. The slow slide of his cock felt deliciously sensual. I swore I could feel every ridge, every pulse of his dick, as I inched deeper and deeper over him. Finally, he was completely seeped inside me.

  “What do you like?” I asked.

  “Do what feels good to you, baby. I’ll just come along for the ride.” His hands rested on my thighs. “You’re in control.”

  I had a sense of what to do, but having never done it, I felt self-conscious. But Dylan waited. He didn’t grip my hips to help me move. He didn’t rock his pelvis. He waited, his dark eyes watching me.

  I squeezed my pussy, and he hissed. I rocked my hips, and he bit his lower lip. I rose up and then lowered down again, and he groaned. With his sounds and facial expressions as a guide, I moved over him, loving how he responded to my body.

  I wanted to draw out the pleasure, but my body had other ideas. It pushed me to move more, faster, harder as need coiled tighter and tighter.

  “That’s right baby … so good … you feel so good.” His fingers flexed and then gripped my thighs harder. “You’re going to make me come …”

  His words urged me on, and I rode him hard. My thighs burned, but I didn’t care.

  “Oh, fuck!” His upper body lurched, and then his hips bucked up, and the sensation of warm liquid filled my pussy. To me, that was the most erotic part about sex: when Dylan came and filled me with his essence. I threw my head back as my own orgasm shot through me. I rode the wave of pleasure until completely spent, and then collapsed on his chest.

  His hand caressed my back. We lay entwined for a while until I moved to lay next to him. It was so lovely to lay quietly in his arms. It felt like home. I inhaled a deep breath as I reminded myself, yet again, that this wasn’t home.

  “You totally distracted me so well that I forgot to apologize,” he said.

  “Oh, for what?”

  “For how I’ve been. You’re helping me and I’ve been surly and rude.”

  “I understand.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t mean to snap at you. I appreciate all you’re doing and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  There was a ‘but’ coming, I could tell.

  “But I meant it that what happens in this custody case is all my decision. That’s not to say that you can’t offer input, but you don’t have any say.”

  It was amazing how quickly he could make me feel like a queen, and then in a single statement, hurt me so deeply.

  “I understand.” I took a minute to decide if I wanted to tell him what I was thinking. Deciding I had nothing to lose and it was important to Maisie’s well-being, I said, “I accept that all decisions will be yours, but if I think something could impact Maisie, I’m going to say it.”

  I felt him stiffen. “You think I’d hurt her?”

  “Not on purpose. You’ve been great with how you talk about Veronica especially in front of Maisie, but I can see you’re hitting your limit. Veronica is Maisie’s mother, and you don’t want to do anything that in the future could make Maisie resent you.”

  “This is un-fucking-believable.” He moved away from me. “What about Maisie resenting Veronica?”

  “If Veronica succeeds, that will probably happen, but I don’t care about Veronica. I care about you and Maisie.”

  He got out of bed, and slipped on a pair of sweats. “I’m not in this for your caring, Tessa. You’re here to make the judge happy that Maisie has a stable home. I’ve raised Maisie alone for nearly three years. I think I can manage it further without your insights and interference.”

  I took a moment to stay calm, even as tears of pain and anger threatened. But I wasn’t able to completely hide my feelings. “I’d leave as you clearly don’t want me here, but then it might impact your father of the year award.”

  “I am a good father!”

  I felt bad for being so snarky because the truth was, he was a good father. He was just a shitty fake husband.

  “You are a good father, Dylan.” Not knowing what else to say, I turned over to go to sleep, even though I knew I wouldn’t.

  20

  Dylan

  I sat on the couch staring at the TV, but not watching whatever was showing on it. I couldn’t sort out my feelings. Yes, I hurt Tessa again by being an asshole. It was stupid, because she’d completely upended her life, and apparently was willing to put her education on hold to help me and Maisie. I needed to apologize. Grovel, even.

  But another part of me stood firm in my belief that I was the sole decision maker and that my choices were right. Why should I take the higher ground in this custody case when I had no doubt that Veronica, with the help of Leo’s money, would fight dirty too? I was a good person, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have skeletons. What if she told the court how I’d been abused as a child? How my mother wasn’t able to control me very well when I was a teenager, and I got into a few scraps? These are things I’d told Veronica when she and I had been together.
Now she could use them against me. Statistically, abusers were once abused, and therefore, as someone who was abused, I’d be considered a risk to do the same to Maisie. If Maisie fell off the swing, would Veronica accuse me of hurting her? I couldn’t sit back and hope that fairness would prevail. I had to fight for Maisie and my rights.

  I believed Tessa cared for us. I was certain she loved Maisie, and there were times I thought she loved me. A part of me wanted to know for sure, and if so, grab onto it, because fucking hell, I needed something solid to hold on to.

  But the other part of me knew that Tessa having feelings for me was a bad idea. Clearly, we had problems, and this wasn’t even a real marriage. How long would she put up with how I kept on hurting her? She’d said she was willing to leave, except that it would hurt the case. At least she was committed to this until the end. My lawyer said custody cases took months, sometimes even a year or more. Would Tessa stick it out that long?

  When I made the deal with Tessa, I figured she’d go to school, and our lives wouldn’t be all that much different except that she’d live with us. But now she was planning not to go school. While we’d taken a break from sex, she’d just given me an incredible ride, and oh how I needed that. Sex with Tessa was somehow more than just the physical pop of an orgasm. It was like she lit up every neuron in my body. When we moved, it was like we were one. It was spectacular even as it was unsettling, because I knew it meant my emotions were involved.

  Maybe it was time to go back to the original plan. No touching. Nothing but friendship. I couldn’t afford to fall in love with her, and it was clear that it was a distinct possibility that I could.

  The next day, Tessa went through all the motions of getting Maisie up and fixing breakfast, but clearly she wasn’t engaged with me. She wasn’t as warm and open, at least not to me. With Maisie, she was like sunshine and rainbows all mixed together, which was what I wanted. I reminded myself that Tessa needed to focus on Maisie and stay out of my business. Sure, it would be nice to have another person to rely on for support and feedback, but I’d learned a long time ago that the only person I could trust to keep me safe and happy was me.