Kat, Knight Watch (Iron Orchids Book 11)

by Danielle Norman

  Jackson smirked and raised one brow as he stared down at his son. “I don’t know, Julien, what do you think? Should we make an exception just this one time and play with our dessert? She is a guest and we should make our guests happy, right?”

  Julien nodded fiercely; I swear I could hear his little neck pop. “Yep, she’s a guess.”

  “Guest,” Jackson clarified.

  “That’s what I said.” He sounded so exasperated. “Will you make it, Oreo?”

  “Of course.”

  Julien held both of our hands as we walked inside. He continued holding my hand while Jackson grabbed a cart and we strolled through the store like a… well… like a family. Something about that thought made my heart speed up.

  We had grabbed the stuff for dinner, already-fried chicken and a container of macaroni and cheese, then moved to the snack aisle where I needed to get my items.

  “Can I get gummy worms?” Julien looked up at his dad and blinked his eyes, totally knowing how to work him. Yeah, it wasn’t just girls who learned how to manipulate.

  “Yes, I’m watching you.” Jackson kept his eye on Julien as he moved over to the candy area where bags were held on hooks and searched for what he wanted.

  I was grabbing boxes of snacks and packs of candy bars and single-size bags of candy. I was just reaching for the Snickers when I heard Julien’s voice and out of instinct I turned and was frozen. I’m sure that my chin was resting against my chest as I watched in horror as Julien put his life on the line. But I couldn’t move, I was in shock. Finally enough sense came to me that I glanced over to Jackson who also was frozen in shock, neither of us willing to make a move and save the kid.

  “That’s the largest man I’ve ever seen,” Jackson whispered.

  “Oh my god, he fits under his stomach.”

  I stared in shock as Julien looked up at the man in awe and in his innocent child’s voice asked, “Mister, are you going to pop?”

  Having no clue what to do I did the only thing I could think of. “Where are his parents? People teach no respect anymore.” I took control of the cart and left the aisle. I couldn’t stand there and see how it all turned out, at least not with a straight face.

  “No, don’t you, no, stay,” Jackson sputtered, trying to get out a cognizant sentence but I was rounding the corner.

  I pushed my way around the store to the far end and then bent over and cracked up laughing. I couldn’t believe the ludicrousness of what had just happened, or the situation Julien had just put that man and Jackson in. Sure, I know it was meant with all innocence but at the same time, that man, his pride, my heart ached for him.

  Laughter bubbled up inside of me again at the same time guilt was hitting me, so I’m sure I sounded like a donkey: laugh, suck it in, laugh, suck it in.

  Finally, regaining enough control of myself, I made my way to the checkout line where Jackson and Julien were waiting, Julien’s eyes were red rimmed. Uh-oh, someone had been crying.

  “Thanks, thanks a whole hell of a lot,” Jackson whispered into my ear. “I thought I was going to get my ass kicked.”

  I smirked. “And rightfully so.”

  Jackson smacked my ass before moving into line and unloading the cart.

  The ride home was fairly quiet except for the occasional words of wisdom that popped into Jackson’s head that he felt needed to be passed on to his son. I continued my fight not to laugh.

  By the time we sat down to dinner, everything and everyone seemed to be relaxing more. We were laughing and chatting about today’s riding event at Harley.

  “Vroom, vroom.” Julien held out his hands in front of him and zipped around the table as if he were riding a motorcycle. “I’m like Oreo, see me, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, I see you.”

  “And hear you,” I mumbled as I massaged one ear.

  “Will you teach me to ride?”

  “When you’re older,” Jackson and I both said in unison.

  “Come sit back down, it’s time for my dessert game.” I brought over the bag of snacks.

  “Game?” Julien got up in his chair and propped up on his knees. “I don’t see a dessert game.”

  “We have to build it. It’s called Junk Food Jenga, I’m going to stack all of these into a giant pile, then we take turns trying to pull the snacks out from the center without toppling over the entire stack.”

  “I want to play, I want to play.” Julien clapped his hands.

  “Give her a second, buddy, why don’t you start opening the boxes?” Jackson handed him the Oreos, Nutter Butters, and Chips Ahoy.

  When our monstrosity was finally built—never mind there was no way we were going to be able to eat all of this but there would be enough left over for Julien’s lunches for the rest of the year—we began.

  “You go first,” I instructed Julien and waited as he easily snagged the Skittles balancing on the side. He couldn’t wait and tore it open, tossing several into his mouth as Jackson went and then I went.

  “I’m going to get Twizzlers for you, Daddy, they’re your favorite, right?” Jackson nodded as Julien attempted a little more bravery and pulled from the middle.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get Oreos for you next.”

  This kid, he was sort of like a goiter, he just grew on you and you didn’t even realize it until there was not much that could be done.

  Julien had now taken charge of each turn, pulling for Jackson and me.

  “Whoa, let’s hold off there, buddy, I think we all have way too much sugar, especially you, you can’t eat all of that tonight.” Jackson pulled him out of his seat and onto his lap.

  “But, Daddy…”

  “No buts. It’s almost eight which means your bedtime. It’s been a long day; you need to get your sleep.”

  “I love you, Oreo, are you going to live here?”

  I was taken back by Julien’s words, love? Whoa, I didn’t like kids, they were too much for me and here I had this boy-child claiming that he loved me. And for some reason it didn’t freak me out. Yep, he was definitely a goiter.

  “Ahh, little man, I can’t, I have a house, I have to go home. My bike is there, my uniform for work.”

  “And your gun?” Julien didn’t wait for me to answer, he was off on another tangent. “Pow, pow, take that Hewa, Red Skull.”

  I glanced over to Jackson and he whispered, “Avengers, Hela and Red Skull, villains.”

  Ahhh, I mouthed. There was so much to learn.

  Jackson stood and set Julien onto the floor. “Okay, buddy, let’s get you ready for bed, Daddy needs to get into bed as well.” Over Julien’s head, Jackson wiggled his brows at me.

  “You need to get ready for bed too, Oreo,” Julien ordered.

  “Yes, sir.” I smiled.

  I cleaned up the kitchen while overhearing the two of them laugh while Julien took his bath and then got ready for bed. Jackson read him a book, then at the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut, goosebumps broke out along my skin and my knees slapped together. Thank god I was sitting or I’m sure I would have passed out.

  Each step he took, I felt like a gazelle standing in a savanna, the lion’s eyes penetrating my skin as he stalked closer.

  Then he was leaning over, his warm breath sending tingles down my neck. His hands wrapped around my chest and grabbed hold of my breasts as he balanced their weight in his hands.

  “I need you. I need you so fucking bad right now. Come into my bedroom with me.” Jackson held out one hand to help me up and guide me.

  “But Julien—” He pinched my lips closed.

  “Shhh. It’s just you and me tonight. He is out and won’t wake until the morning.”

  I couldn’t believe it, I had no clue what had come over me, but I was following him, going against what normally I would think was a good idea. For some reason, being with this man, here, with Julien asleep down the hall made me feel warm and cozy, I was content.

  As soon as I crossed the threshold, Jackson swept me into his arms and carr
ied me over to the bed. He dropped me in the center. “Undress,” he commanded and then turned back to the door to lock it before joining me and dropping his clothes along the way. He paused at his nightstand and pulled out a foil packet setting it on top.

  “Scoot over, beautiful.” I did as he ordered, feeling the heat build between my legs as he joined me on the bed. “I can’t tell you how awesome you look in my bed, I want you here all of the time.” He lowered his lips to one breast and brought my nipple into his mouth, his tongue trailing a line around the nub.

  The spark that ignited in me started at my toes and shot up to my scalp, each strand of hair standing on edge. “Oh, Jackson, god, keep doing that.” I wove my fingers into his hair and held his head firm against me.

  He maneuvered one leg between mine, using his knee to pry my legs apart. The simple action caused my hips to thrust up in reaction. He pulled his head back and chuckled before moving one hand between my legs and cupping my core. “You’re soaking wet.”

  “For you, now stop playing around.”

  “Or what?” He raised one brow in challenge.

  “I don’t know, or…or…or I’ll go home and get my vibrator.”

  “Oh, no you won’t. Never again. There’s no need for electronics when you have the real thing right here.” He slid a finger inside me and curved it until he was touching that magical spot that made me want to shout. His thumb rubbed along my clit and I was riding his fucking hand.

  “No, Jackson, I want you.”

  “You’ve got me, that’s my hand.”

  “No. I want you. Your dick.”

  “Where do you want it?” He removed his hand and then crawled over me, positioning his cock between my legs.

  “Yeah, there, right there, keep going, I want you inside me.” He paused and then leaned over. “What are you doing now?”

  “Getting a condom, chill, woman.”

  “No, I’m on the pill. I trust you. I want to feel you.”

  “Holy hell. Are you sure?” he asked, and I nodded, suddenly feeling very unsure about saying anything.

  Was I being too forward, was that too much? “Never mind, sorry, forget I said anything.”

  He grabbed hold of one of my hands and pulled it to his long hard dick. “Do you really think that I can forget what you said? Jesus, woman, that was the hottest fucking thing you could say to me. I just want to make sure you are positive. I know that I would love to be inside of you, feel you.”

  Oh, he wasn’t upset. “I’m positive.” At my words, Jackson touched the tip of his cock to my opening and slowly slid in, it was rhythm. He was like the sway of the ocean crashing on to the beach. His hips rolled with each thrust, the gracefulness of the rolling waves. He increased speed as we both got closer to our climax, the burning need, this rising tide. And then an undercurrent swept in and grabbed hold of us, dragging us under, and pulling us along, until we were gasping and clawing for release, and then the shudders as we finally broke free and found it.

  I woke several hours later and was listening to the soft whistle of Jackson’s snore and watching as his chest slowly rose and fell. I hated for our night to end but it had to, I needed to get out before Julien woke up. Glancing over at the clock, I was shocked to see it was just after five in the friggin morning. Shit. I needed to hustle out of here.

  Rolling over, I gingerly crawled out, and carefully slipped into my clothes, keeping one eye on him the whole time, I didn’t want to wake him; he looked so adorable.

  Blowing him a kiss that he had no clue was tossed at him, I gingerly cracked the door open and then tiptoed out toward the front door.

  “Oreo, you stayed the night?” a soft voice asked, startling me as I passed his room.

  “Shhh, go back to sleep.”

  “I’m awake, it’s breakfast time. I’m hungry.” Julien rubbed his belly and it let out a groan. I felt sorry for him, but at the same time I wanted to get the heck out of here before he returned to more questions.

  “Why don’t you go lie down until your dad wakes up and then he can make you breakfast?”

  Julien shook his head. “You make it, please.”

  “Okay, come on, squirt.” He giggled at that nickname and then slid one small hand into mine and walked with me into the kitchen. “What do you like to eat?”

  Julien shrugged his shoulders. “Did you and Daddy have a sleepov—”

  I interrupted him. “Do you like pancakes?”

  “Yes. Where did you sleep?”

  Thinking fast, I offered him something more enticing, “Have you ever had Oreo pancakes?”

  “Oreos yummmm.”

  “Shhh.” I cupped a hand over his mouth. “We don’t want to wake Dad. He’s tired.” I grabbed a mixing bowl and then searched for some Bisquick, letting out a sigh of relief when I found the signature yellow box, since the last thing I wanted to do was Google how to make pancake batter.

  “Let’s wash our hands and then I’m going to have you open the Oreos for me, okay?”

  Julien nodded and then pulled a chair over to the sink. Once we were both thoroughly washed and dried, I handed him several packages of Oreos from last night. I mixed up the Bisquick and water into a bowl while he opened the packages and then grabbed two more bowls.

  “Okay, little dude, we’re going to twist the Oreos open. The cookie parts go in the big bowl and then the cream goes into this small bowl. I have a spatula and will scrape the cream off so just pass them over to me, we will work together and get it done fast, okay?”

  “Okay, Oreo dude.” He laughed, totally proud at his name for me and that it was similar to the one I had given him.

  We worked together like a team and it took us no time. We crushed up the cookies and added them to the batter. Then I handed him the bowl of creme centers and added a little butter and some milk. Setting a small pot on the oven, I added that mix on low and let it simmer while I added Oreo batter pancakes to the griddle and let them start cooking.

  “Yumm, they smell so good.” Julien leaned over and took a whiff.

  “What are you two doing?” We both jumped at the sound of Jackson’s voice.

  “Busted.” I held up my hands.

  “Making Oreo pancakes, I helped make dem.” Julien jumped down and ran over to his dad. “Come see.”

  I couldn’t watch them because I was lifting the first batch off and onto plates and stirring the cream mix to make sure it was nice and melted. “Do you have chocolate syrup?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Julien, get your chocolate milk syrup,” Jackson told him and instantly Julien ran to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Hershey’s syrup and then handed it to me.

  “Okay, let’s eat.” I sat everything onto the table. “Add a little cream syrup and a little chocolate, they are delicious.”

  Jackson

  “Welcome to Southern City, how may I help you?” I watched the two women, who had to be in their late fifties maybe early sixties, whisper to each other and then glance to my name badge. The way they were huddled together reminded me of Lucy and Ethel, and it was clear that neither of them had heard me, so I tried again. “May I help you?”

  “Oh, yes, sorry,” the lady I dubbed the dark-haired Lucy said. “I need to get some information about your business accounts.”

  “Absolutely, let me see if someone is available, one second.”

  “No. I want you to help me.” The woman gave me a smile that reminded me of my mother, and I found myself smiling back. I usually passed these things off, but they had piqued my curiosity and I wasn’t doing anything else at the moment.

  Well, nothing except for waiting to hear from Kat, who I hadn’t heard from since yesterday. It infuriated me since, once again, Tammy was ruining my and Julien’s life. Whether she did it or not, it was just the idea of her and all the shit she had caused in my life. “I’m Jackson Boudreaux.” I stepped back to allow them to enter my office. “Have a seat, may I get either of you some coffee or water?”

&nbs
p; “No, we’re fine, thank you,” answered the second woman.

  “I didn’t get your names.”

  “I’m Christine,” said the woman I’d nicknamed Lucy before waving to her friend. “And this is Monica.” Christine waved her left hand, and her wedding ring caught my attention; it was huge but not flashy, just eye-catching.

  I turned my attention to Monica; she seemed to be the quiet one, and looked like a deep-Southern Baptist going to church, with her monochrome-pastel skirt suit, gloves, and white handbag.

  “Are you looking at opening a business or transferring a business account?”

  “Opening,” Monica said at the same time as Christine said, “Transferring.”

  I raised one brow. “Are you both doing accounts?” Or had they confused their stories for some reason? I had a feeling that I was being tested.

  “No.” Christine was much more adamant this time. “Transferring. We’ve been with Orange State for years, but they’re merging with one of the big fellows, so I’m just trying to find out what is best for us.”

  “That makes sense.” I opened my top drawer and pulled out two folders on business banking. “Of course, the deciding factor is going to be how much revenue your company generates and the balance you keep in the bank.”

  “Look,” one of them whispered, and I glanced up from where I was gathering my paperwork.

  They were looking at a picture of Julien. “Oh, that’s my son. Handful.”

  “They all are, no matter their age,” Christine replied.

  “You must be a great father. Is he daddy’s boy or more of a mama’s?” Monica asked.

  Her question caught me off guard. “Daddy’s. It’s just him and me. We’re a team.”

  “Ohhh,” Christine and Monica both sighed in unison.

  “Now, let’s get back to your banking needs. As I mentioned, your company’s revenue—”

  “Last year, we did about one hundred nineteen,” Christine said firmly.

  “Thousand?”

  “Million.” I almost choked. I hadn’t expected that. “We build luxury homes. When my husband started the business, he wanted something that would guarantee a legacy to pass on to our children and their families.”