One Chance, Fancy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Bayou snorted. “I’ll never understand her capacity to get out of sticky situations. I’m not quite sure how she continues to do it, to be honest, but it gets really fuckin’ old.”

  “I agree,” Shiloh said. “Apparently, one of my colleagues from the Brownsboro area, where this is all going down, said they’ve been trying to take her kids away for years, yet they just keep getting out of the situations. This time, it was suggested to us to possibly go a different route, and that was to find the fathers.”

  “I tried that, too,” Bayou admitted. “I was able to find one, the eldest kid’s. He was just as much of a piece of shit as Ilsa.”

  “Right,” she said. “The grandmother said as much. They all had atrocious fathers…except for that one.”

  Bayou once again looked to the little girl and frowned.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” Shiloh confirmed. “We convinced Ilsa that Isa would be better off with her father until we could get this all sorted out. Since she didn’t want to lose her other four children—for some reason she is acting like they’re chess pieces that she needs to hold onto to win—she agreed to tell us the father’s name in exchange for goodwill when it comes to the other four children. They will stay with her mother until this is over. Isa, on the other hand, will be staying with the father if he’s willing.”

  Bayou turned away from the girl that nearly had the entire middle of the puzzle done, and then stared at Shiloh. “Okay…”

  “Your daughter is a very intelligent little girl, and she’s extremely lucky to be alive,” Shiloh said softly, finally letting the cat out of the bag.

  Bayou froze, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.

  Blowing out the breath he’d just sucked into his lungs, he calmly stood up and walked from the room.

  I didn’t get up until twenty minutes later when I was kind of unsure that he was even coming back.

  Shiloh must’ve been, too, because she urged me on.

  “Calm him down and bring him back in here. We have more to talk to him about,” she murmured. “But take your time. Isa’s fine.”

  She looked at the girl that still had no care in the world that any of us were in the room. She was in her own little world and didn’t look like she could be bothered at all by the happenings that were going on around her.

  “Go,” my dad said.

  Chapter 8

  Why does the nutritional value on a box of Cheeze-Its give you the serving size of 15 crackers? Bitch, you damn well know I’m gonna eat half the box.

  -Phoebe’s secret thoughts

  Phoebe

  I found him outside, arms crossed, leaning against his bike as he stared up at the sky.

  There were bats outside, feeding on the insects.

  It wasn’t a surprise to see him so fascinated, since I knew that birds had a calming effect on him.

  “I don’t even have a car seat,” Bayou said, eyes wide and full of something that I wouldn’t quite say was fear, but was definitely very, very close to it. “I don’t even have a goddamn truck.”

  I laughed then. I couldn’t help myself. “Bayou, honey? Everything you thought you knew is out the window. The only thing left is what is right in front of you—and that is a little girl that needs you for her survival. It sounds like she’s had a pretty shitty go of it for the first three years of her life. Don’t you think you’re better than what she would’ve had with Ilsa?”

  Bayou looked haunted. “I’m not really sure. It’s taken a lot to get me to where I am right now. But I’m far from normal. I’m abrupt, brash, and say what I mean. I have an obsession with goddamn birds that sometimes borders on unhealthy. I still have trouble with crowds, and even though I look like I’m a really good, functioning member of society, I’m not. I’m broken.”

  “You’re not broken,” I said. “You’re perfect. And you’re going to do fine. That little girl won’t care that you like birds. That little girl only cares that you do your best, and at the end of the day, love her.”

  “I don’t have the capacity for love,” he said.

  “Yes. You do.”

  He looked like he was about to deny my every word, then I did what I did best. I stirred shit up.

  Reaching for his face, I pulled him down until his face was only an inch from mine, then I squeezed his cheeks together, almost forcing him to look at me.

  The hairs of his beard tickled my chin, but I held on anyway, even though having him this close was nearly distracting.

  My body was doing things that my mind knew certain parts—i.e., my vagina—shouldn’t be doing in this particular situation.

  Did that stop me from wanting to bring his mouth just a little bit closer?

  No.

  Did that stop me from inhaling his scent and wishing that the situation that I found myself in was different? Again, another no.

  “You do,” I said again. “You are a good man, and from what I’ve been able to tell, you love your cousin. You love your adopted sister, even though she has a psycho switch that turns on when she’s anywhere in the vicinity of me or my sister. You also love your club members—from what I’ve been able to tell based on the club parties I’ve attended. You do have it in you. And Isa is new. She doesn’t know what to expect any more than you do. It’s going to be a learning experience all the way around.”

  His hands fisted, and that was when I realized that they were on my hips, though now he wasn’t cupping my hips as much as pressing both fists into my flesh.

  Though he wasn’t touching me, I was sure, on purpose since I still had hold of his face, the act made something in my brain short circuit.

  If I was willing to admit it, I’d had a crush on the man whose face I had in my hands for a very long time now. Years. I’d compared every single man that I’d ever dated to Bayou.

  I’d only had a couple encounters with the man, but it was enough to illicit a life-long change in me. One that was so fused with my soul that I hadn’t slept with a single man my entire adult life. Why would I when every time a man started to go down that particular path with me, I compared him to Bayou?

  Though, he was Benson to me, then.

  However, Bayou had changed. He was no longer that man that he used to be. He was different, more self-assured. More confident in who he was now, and who he would be in the future.

  Then again, I was no longer the girl he used to know. I didn’t get to be the girl that hid in the corner while life moved along around her. I had to be an adult, and do adult-like things like go to work, go grocery shopping, pay bills, and generally do things that interested me about as much as I liked plucking my chin hairs.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his eyes studying mine.

  I started to let go of his face and took a step away from him. Or would have had my foot not caught on Bayou’s.

  Before I could so much as fall backward like I knew I was going to do, Bayou pulled me into his body.

  I fell into him with a small ‘oomph’ on my part, and stood there, leaning against him entirely, for a few long seconds.

  That was when I felt the distinct hardness that was now against my body—my belly, to be specific.

  The way he was leaning on the bike meant my body was bowed into his, and I could feel every single muscle, including the ones in his arms which my hands were firmly attached to.

  My face was also inches from his again, and this time I was pressed up against him.

  There really was no other recourse.

  I had to do it.

  I kissed him.

  One hot, wet kiss and then I was standing on my own with Bayou an entire ten feet away.

  I blinked as I tried to get my equilibrium about me.

  Bayou was watching me like Phantom eyed her dinner. His eyes were huge and locked on me, and his hands were clenching and unclenching as if he was trying to will himself to stay still.

  I swallowed hard.

&
nbsp; “Sorry,” I apologized.

  He looked at me as if I’d sucker punched him.

  I wasn’t sorry at all.

  Kissing him was the highlight of my life.

  My first kiss.

  My first grope, too.

  Oh, God.

  I’d just groped my employer!

  Shit!

  “I didn’t mean to!” I lied quickly. “I swear. I just…shit! I swear. I…fuck. Yeah.”

  Then I turned around and started to head back inside.

  I needed to leave.

  I needed to get the fuck out of here and not look back.

  I needed to…

  Bayou caught my hand and pulled me to a stop. His thumb swept absently over my tattoo as he whirled me around and forced me to face him.

  I closed my eyes and refused to look at him.

  Even when his hands found my cheeks and he cupped my face just like I’d done to his a few long minutes ago. Even when he said, “Look at me.”

  I shook my head, refusing.

  Holy shit, I was so embarrassed.

  I would rather shoot myself in the foot with a harpoon than look at him right then.

  “Look. At. Me.”

  Still, I refused.

  “No.”

  “It won’t go away.” He sounded amused.

  “Maybe it will,” I replied lamely.

  “You can’t undo kissing me.” He said laughing.

  “It never happened,” I lied.

  “It did happen,” he murmured. “Your lips touched mine.”

  He sounded so happy that I chanced a peek through half-slitted eyelids.

  He was watching me with a grin on his face.

  Bayou never smiled.

  Not ever.

  I opened my left eye all the way and stared at him as if he had a screw loose.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked.

  “Because I was waiting for your eyes to open so I could kiss you again.” He paused and looked at my unopened eye. “I guess I could kiss you with one eye open.”

  Then his mouth was back on my own, and this time I wasn’t the one in control of anything.

  Not my mouth. Not my tongue. Not my lips. Not my hands. Not even my thoughts. He controlled everything, and before I knew it, my hands were up his shirt feeling his muscles, my body was pressed up against his, writhing with need, and he was backing me up until my back was against the brick building.

  I gasped when he pressed against me fully, letting me feel every delicious, hard inch of him.

  But before I could go any further, such as doing something that would be monumentally stupid seeing as he was my boss and we were standing outside of a building that was so wired that my dad was about to come out at any second and yell at me, I stopped.

  Well, technically, he stopped. I didn’t.

  I had no choice but to watch him back away from me, one slow step at a time.

  “One day, when my life isn’t a complete cluster fuck, we’re going to explore this.” He growled. “I’m giving it a month.”

  I frowned. “Why a month?”

  “Because, if it’s not fixed by then, then it probably never will be.” He paused. “Not to mention the fact that I’ve been staying away from you since I saw you at a party when you were fifteen. The only reason I was able to stay away was because you never showed any outward signs of being attracted to me. Now that I know differently…all bets are off.”

  Chapter 9

  I hate it when that woman acts like a supervisor. Bitch, act your wage.

  -Phoebe’s secret thoughts

  Phoebe

  He walked in and I blushed.

  From the roots of my hair to, I was sure, the tips of my toes. But since I couldn’t actually see them to confirm, I had to go on the fact that my toes felt hotter than normal.

  “You can’t bring a child to a prison,” I whispered to Bayou. “How…why…what the hell?”

  His eyes latched onto me, and for a split second, he wasn’t a father. He wasn’t my boss. He was just the man that I’d kissed last night, and he’d kissed back.

  That moment was over in a flash as if he’d compartmentalized it and shoved it back to a deep, dark corner of his brain.

  Something that I should probably do.

  “What else was I supposed to do with her?” he asked. “I have a meeting that I can’t miss today, or it could mean less funding for the guards. And less funding means less protection. And less protection means workplace accidents, and then I might have to kill an inmate. Trust me when I say that it couldn’t be missed. Once I’m done, I have a meeting with a nanny, but I’m already freaking out over that.”

  “Doesn’t one of your MC buddies’ wives own a daycare?” I asked curiously.

  Bayou opened his mouth and then closed it. “Yes.”

  “Then you should start there first. I’m fairly sure that she’d be more than willing to make room for any baby that belonged to you,” I pointed out.

  He took a seat in the chair that was across from me and looked like a lost little boy that was just trying to find his way.

  Last night, after more discussions on Ilsa and Isa had been discussed, my father had loaned Bayou his truck—all the while laughing his ass off at the disgruntled look on Bayou’s face.

  “It’s not just that,” he admitted.

  “What’s not just that?” I questioned.

  He didn’t answer. At least not how I expected him.

  “Are you doing anything later?” he asked out of the blue.

  I frowned. “It depends. What do you need?”

  He seemed to think about what he wanted to say for a long moment before he just blurted it out. “I don’t know what to buy for a three-year-old. I was given a few essentials by Shiloh, but I’m so lost that I don’t even know where to start. I’d ask one of the guys, but any time a woman gets around her she starts going into these trances that kind of scares the shit out of me. As long as I hold her, though, she seems to be fine. But I know the guys’ wives aren’t going to be able to stay away once they hear about Isa. So…will you help me after work? Get the things that she needs?”

  I nodded. I’d actually seen her go into one of those ‘trances’ last night when Shiloh had gone to pick her up and hand her to Bayou. Isa had gone so still, so catatonic, that it’d honestly been freaky as hell.

  Which begged the question…why hadn’t she done that with me?

  Whatever the reason, I’d be glad to help.

  “The boys are coming over later, too. We’re going to discuss Ilsa…and Isa,” he said softly.

  The little girl sat on Bayou’s lap, looking around the room with rapt fascination. I could tell that she wanted to explore but likely had been tempered not to let her inquisitive nature show.

  I wanted to kill her mother.

  Repeatedly.

  If I could figure out a way to keep the bitch alive while giving continuous torture, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

  “I don’t think Isa would go to a daycare. I think she’d have to be introduced to Landry very slowly, and she’d have to decide for herself if she liked Landry or not before I could leave her there with her.” He paused. “I’m asking Wade to bring her with him tonight.”

  “You should ask all of them to bring their wives,” I offered. “And Pru’s off for maternity leave for another five weeks. Ten if she takes her extended illness which she’s discussing doing. If we can convince Isa that my sister’s not that bad, I know for a fact that Pru would be willing to watch Isa. At least until we got her liking Landry enough to go there.”

  Bayou blew out a relieved breath. “That sounds good. Very good, actually. Fuck.”

  “You probably shouldn’t say ‘fuck’ in front of a three-year-old. They repeat everything,” I told him.

  “Not this one,” he muttered. “She’s a very quiet and solemn child.”

  “How did she do after
you got her home?” I asked.

  He’d looked scared to death when he went to leave in my dad’s truck.

  “I guess good. I put her to bed on my couch. She liked my cat.” He laughed. “I think they slept together the entire night, and I’m not sure if Pooh was too scared to leave Isa’s clutches, or if he actually liked her holding onto him. Regardless, when I woke up this morning, Isa still had him wrapped up in her arms.”

  “And she hasn’t said a word at all since you’ve gotten her?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Just the word “pink” yesterday when she touched your hair.”

  I mentally scanned through people that I knew that would be able to help her. I knew a speech pathologist that had graduated with me. I also knew a couple that worked with early childhood intervention.

  I could ask all of them.

  “I know a few people that work with children,” I said. “She might do better if she was taken to a counselor first, though. A male one.”

  Bayou nodded. “I’ve already thought of that, and I agree. I have a list on my phone thanks to a buddy. His wife works with children, and she is supposed to be finding me a male that does the same thing that can work with her.”

  I looked at the clock on the wall. “Did you feed her breakfast?”

  He nodded. “Bacon and eggs from Sonic. She ate every bit of it. At least I don’t have to worry about her appetite.”

  That was true.

  “Then you should probably go. Leave her here and pray that there are no riots while you’re gone.” I paused. “And don’t dilly dally.”

  He handed her to me, and Isa came without complaint. Her eyes, so much like her father’s, met mine, and I felt something in my chest pang.

  I always knew that Bayou would make beautiful babies.

  “I’ll be back.” He left, only taking two seconds to look over his shoulder at the both of us before finally leaving completely.