The flowers have continued to arrive, thankfully, only on a weekly basis now. The attached notes still touch me as Gavin is trying so hard to make us a couple again.
We haven’t had sex since the weekend he met Maddox. Three whole weeks. Three weekends of seeing Gavin. Smelling Gavin. Hearing him talk with that sexy southern drawl that Maddox loves to imitate. Three weekends of soccer games, Sunday brunches and outings. Three weekends and Gavin hasn’t touched me purposefully.
Not. One. Time.
I know what he’s doing. Because, although he’s not touching me, he’s giving me looks . . . glances . . . stares. He’s brushing against me as he walks by. He’s helping out around the house. He’s smelling so flippin’ good. The sexual tension that radiates between us could power a small village.
But his being here every weekend is not without consequences. All the traveling is taking a toll on Gavin. He’s tired a lot of the time and he’s cramming a five day work week into four days. It makes me wonder exactly when he will say it’s all too much. Then he’ll cut his visits down to twice a month, then once. Then after that he’ll only show up for holidays and special occasions.
I’m trying to prepare Maddox. Help him understand that it won’t always be like this. But, he’s seven and he just got the father he’s always wanted, so it falls on deaf ears.
My phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts as I sit in my office staring blindly out the window. I answer the unfamiliar number.
“Ms. Mitchell?” a man asks.
“Yes. This is she.”
“This is Mr. Pruett, the principal over here at Maple Creek Elementary.”
“Yes, hello, Mr. Pruett,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
“I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s been a situation here at school that you should be aware of.”
My heart pounds and my mouth goes dry. “Is Maddox okay?”
“Yes. He’s perfectly fine,” he says. “He is talking with the police right now.”
“The police?” I shriek into the phone, already rounding the corner of my desk to grab my coat and purse.
“Ms. Mitchell, everything is okay,” he repeats.
“Then why is my son with the police?” I shout at him.
He sighs heavily into the phone. “There was a woman on school grounds a little while ago who was talking to Maddox during his recess.”
“What do you mean? Who was she?” I ask, slamming the door to the house before getting in my car.
“Well, we don’t know,” he says hesitantly, his voice now coming through my car speakers. “His teacher, Mrs. Chandler, was tending to another child’s minor injury and when she looked around the playground afterwards, she saw Maddox talking with a strange woman.”
“Strange woman?” I repeat. “Like someone’s mom?”
“No, we don’t think so,” he says. “As soon as Mrs. Chandler called to Maddox and started walking towards him, the woman fled.”
“Fled?” I gasp.
“Yes. She ran across the grounds and parking lot, jumped into a car and sped away.”
“Oh, my God!” I almost run off the road. “I’ll be there in two minutes.” I hang up before I hear his response.
I shout a command at my car to “Call Gavin.”
He picks up on the first ring. “Baylor,” he practically sings my name.
“Gavin!” Everything about the way I say his name alerts him to my frantic state.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. I hear wood scrape against wood as I imagine he’s pushing a chair away from a table and leaving a meeting perhaps.
“There was a woman at Maddox’s school. She talked to him at recess. Nobody knows who she is. She ran away. The police are there.” My words come out quickly and garbled and I’m not sure he understood them.
“Slow down, Bay,” he says in a calm voice. “Explain to me exactly what happened.” Then I hear a muffled, “Tell them I need to reschedule.”
“I can’t, I’m almost at the school. I don’t know any more than what I told you. Oh, God . . . do you think someone tried to kidnap him?” Tears blur my vision as I make the turn onto the road that will take me to the school.
“Calm down, Baylor. You’ll get into an accident and that won’t make things any better. Did you ever put my name down on the parent list at school? Will they talk to me if I call?”
“Yes, yes, I did it last week right after you asked me to,” I say.
“Okay, good. You get Maddox. I’ll call and get all the details. Call me when you get him back home and we’ll figure this out. Can you do that, darlin’?” he asks calmly.
“Yes. I’m pulling in now. Oh, God, there are three police cars here!”
“They said she was gone and he’s okay, right?” he asks.
“Yes, he said Maddox was safe.”
“Okay. Go get our son and call me when you get home.”
Two hours later, after meeting with the police, school officials and my agent, an investigation has been opened to look into any of my over-zealous fans.
Based on Maddox’s seven-year-old description, which was more-or-less backed up by Mrs. Chandler’s brief look at the woman, she was ‘older than Mommy but with black hair and kinda fat.’
My first fleeting thought was relief that he didn’t describe someone who looked like Barbie . . . or Karen McBride, as it may be. He said that the lady was very nice and showed him a picture of her hugging me and that’s why he felt it was okay to talk to her. She said she was a friend of mine and knew a lot of details about me so he had no reason to distrust her. She said that maybe the three of us could get together. She said she had a nice dog that Maddox would like and a big trampoline in her back yard. She also said her name was Kylee.
Jenna and I gave the police access to our computer files and e-mail accounts in hopes that they will find the psycho-bitch who thought she could get to me through my son. Unfortunately, nobody saw the car she drove off in, as Mrs. Chandler was understandably working to get all the kids back inside after the incident.
My call to Gavin goes to voicemail and I wonder if he’s jumped on a plane to come out here. Would he do that? Would I want him to do that? Here I am struggling with the horrible thing that happened today, yet butterflies take up residence in my belly when I think of seeing him again.
No. He can’t simply hop on a plane anytime something happens. I’m sure he’s already compromising his business to be here as it is.
Finally, right before dinner, he calls.
“You’re not on your way to JFK, are you?” I ask.
“No. But don’t think the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” he says. “Two men are going to be coming to the house within the hour. Collin and Jake. They will handle things when I’m not there to protect you.”
“Handle things? What things?” I ask. “Who are Collin and Jake?”
“Personal protection,” he says. “You know, bodyguards.”
“Gavin, I—”
“Listen Baylor,” he asserts, like a father scolding a child. “I talked to the school. I talked to the police. It’s obvious we’re dealing with a stalker. Both of you could be in danger and I’m not taking any chances. You are to be with Collin or Jake at all times when I’m not there. One of them will go to school with Maddox. You’ll let me do this, Baylor. It’s not up for debate.”
“Are you done now?” I sulk at him. “Can I talk?”
He sighs. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Gavin. The police told me that stalkers can be pretty screwed up in the head. I’ll do anything to protect Maddox.”
“Good. And I’ll do anything to protect you. Both of you,” he says. “Anything.”
chapter thirty-seven
It’s strange, yet oddly comforting, to have a bodyguard standing on the sidelines at Maddox’s Thursday night soccer game. I’m actually surprised Callie didn’t join me for the game. She’s completely smitten with Collin. I can’t really blame her. He looks like he coul
d be a body double for a young Arnold Schwarzenegger. And poor Callie, he barely gives her the time of day, focusing all his attention on protecting Maddox and me.
Last night, Chris and my family came to the house to meet our new protectors and get a rundown of the situation. My dad feels guilty. Says everything is his fault. He thinks that if he would have done the right thing eight years ago and broken his promise to me to track down Gavin, that none of this would be happening.
My big strong father has begged for my forgiveness. He has asked the same of Gavin. I swear he treats him just as he does Chris, like the son he never had.
My breath hitches when I spot him walking towards the bleachers. Gavin. He’s a day early. The huge smile that overtakes my face isn’t nearly as surprising as the tingles coursing through my entire body. He locks eyes with me and in this moment we share something. Lust . . . longing . . . hope?
He breaks eye contact with me to look around the sidelines. He walks up to Collin, saying something to him as they shake hands. Do they know each other?
From the middle of the soccer field, Maddox spots Gavin and yells a greeting, prompting many parents, especially the women, to turn their heads in Gavin’s direction. They know who he is by now. Maddox has made sure of that. The women sit up a little straighter and fix their hair. Men roll their eyes at them. A few of the single moms have even had the gall to ask me if he’s available. Yes, Gavin’s gorgeous. He’s built. He doesn’t even look small standing next to Collin, like all the other dads do. But it’s not the other women Gavin is looking at as he talks to Collin. It's like he doesn’t even know anyone else is here. His eyes burn into mine and his intense stare heats me to my very core.
By the time he makes his way over to the bleachers, my panties are shamefully damp. Damn him.
I make room for him to sit next to me and he leans down to kiss my cheek before he takes the seat. It’s the first skin-to-skin contact we’ve had in a month. My flesh burns where his lips claimed me and I struggle to keep my hand from reaching up to touch my cheek.
I have to remind myself that he’s only here a day early because of the circumstances surrounding Maddox. Not for me. “You’re early,” I say. “Maddox will be thrilled you got to see his game, even though it’s only because of the whole debacle.”
“What?” He breaks his concentration on the game to look at me. “I didn’t come early because of that.” He nods at Collin. “I trust the guys to watch out for you,” he says. “I already had my ticket before it even happened. I just can’t stay away.”
He looks back at the game, following Maddox’s every move with his ice-blue eyes.
“Well, he’s pretty easy to love,” I say. “That kid grows on everyone.”
Gavin knocks against my shoulder with his. “Not just him, darlin’,” he says.
What does that even mean? Not just him. Not just him who grows on everyone? Not just him who’s easy to love?
He hasn’t said it. Gavin hasn’t said he loves me even one time since that first night at the hotel. He says a lot of other things. Nice things. Romantic things. But not that one thing.
Maybe he’s changed his mind. Maybe it finally occurred to him what I knew all along—we are different people now.
I don’t even realize I’m not watching the game until the bleachers shake and everyone around me jumps to their feet, cheering.
“That’s my kid!” Gavin shouts, pointing at Maddox proudly, earning him pats on the back from some of the women sitting around us.
Maddox sports a face-splitting smile as he glances up at Gavin while he and his team exchange high-fives when they run off the field after his game-winning goal.
Gavin takes us to dinner after the game and then drops Maddox and me off at the house without ever getting out of the car. “Hey, partner,” he says to Maddox, “do you think Mommy would mind if I bring over a movie and pizza tomorrow night?”
Maddox looks up at me with excitement and I shrug. “The new Spiderman movie?” he asks Gavin.
Gavin nods at him. “If that’s the one you want, you got it.” He looks over at me. “Six o’clock okay with you?”
“It’s fine.” I try not to sound disappointed that he doesn’t want to spend the day with me while Maddox is at school.
“Bye, Daddy,” Maddox says, leaning in to give Gavin a hug and then trotting up the front steps.
I start walking away but then spin around when I remember something. “How did you know it was Collin at the soccer game? Do you know him?”
“No.” He quiets his voice so Maddox can’t hear. “I told the agency I needed the biggest, baddest motherfuckers they had to protect those I love.” Then he winks at me and backs out of the driveway.
Around noon, frustration sets in. What’s he doing? Why isn’t he texting me or calling me? Why is he even here a day early if he doesn’t want to see me?
I call Skylar at the restaurant in the city. “Hey.”
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
“Why does anything have to be the matter for me to call you?” I ask. “I just called to see if you’ve heard anything from Piper lately.”
“You’re full of shit, big sister,” she says. “I know you are sitting at your house right now sulking over the fact that Gavin is in town but not pining over you.”
I sit up straight in my office chair. “How do you know Gavin is in town?”
“Because I’m looking at his gorgeous-ass face right now. He and Dad are having lunch together out front.”
“He’s what?” I yell into the phone.
She laughs. “Yup,” she says. “I can see them laughing. Maybe they’re talking about you. You’re pretty funny looking.”
“Skylar!” I chide her. “Why is he even there?”
“God, Baylor. You are so dense,” she says. “For someone who writes about love and shit for a living, you’re pretty fucking clueless. The guy obviously has it bad for you. All he talks about is you and Maddox.”
I don’t even know how to respond, so I don’t.
“He talks to Dad a lot, you know,” she says. “Calls him from L.A. I guess they’re friends now or something.”
“You’re kidding!” I say.
“Chris told me he calls him, too,” she says. “The man is seriously trying to immerse himself in your lives, Baylor. He’s making a huge effort while you sit there with your thumb up your ass until you can figure out if he’s worth it.”
“Ugh!” I gasp.
“All I’m saying is that if you don’t hurry up and throw him a bone—and by bone, I mean, get on top of his—he’s gonna bail. Not on Maddox, he adores him, but Jesus, Baylor, do something. Put the man out of his misery. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Haven’t you?”
I spend the rest of the afternoon thinking about that phone call and staring at the delivery that came to the house earlier. It’s a bouquet, but not of flowers. It’s a bouquet of DVDs. Every single DVD that we watched together for our film studies class. The bouquet is threaded with my favorite kinds of candy. And of course there was a note.
Baylor,
Some of my best memories are of our movie nights. I can’t wait to have another one with you tonight.
Gavin
Maddox is so engrossed in the movie that he has no idea what’s happening around him. He sits right in between Gavin and me on the couch, holding a gigantic bowl of popcorn with his eyes glued to the T.V.
Every time I reach for some popcorn, Gavin reaches out at the same time, brushing my hand with his, sending electricity shooting through my fingers up to the rest of my body. He has his other arm on the couch behind Maddox and his fingers play with a lock of my hair, twisting it so that my hair tickles the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
My feet are perched on the coffee table in front of me and he stretches out a leg and runs it along my calf before putting his feet up next to mine. Other than the kiss on my cheek yesterday, these are the only purposeful touches he’s given me in a month. Every mi
niscule movement he makes has my body humming. Every small gesture has my insides quivering with desire.
I am aware of his every move. His quickening breath. His smoldering stare. I finally turn to look at him over Maddox’s head and his eyes capture mine. They tell me all the things his words can’t say with our son between us. I don’t mean for it to happen, but my eyes betray me and reveal how much I want him. We stare into each other, disclosing all our secrets, oblivious to the outside world.
He breaks our trance and nonchalantly places a pillow over his lap as I try to hold in my giggle.
The movie can’t end fast enough. He’s won. I can’t resist anymore. I want him. My need for him consumes every fiber of my being.
The second the credits are scrolling down the screen, Gavin picks up a sleepy Maddox and carries him back to his room. A minute later, he does the exact same thing with me, carrying me back to my bedroom, his powerful biceps rippling under me. He locks the door behind us and places me on the bed.
“I will die right-fucking-now if you don’t let me make love to you,” he says, with an achy rasp that burns through me like a thick wave of heat.
I pull him towards me and his mouth devours me with a rush of frantic kisses.
I don’t know if it’s the month we spent not touching, or the years we spent apart, but we both put so much emotion and passion into our lovemaking that I almost cry the first time he makes me come with his skillful tongue. I have to muffle my screams with a pillow the second time. And the third time, when he is inside me and our orgasms synchronize perfectly, we stare into each other and make declarations with our eyes. Then Gavin makes his with words as he empties himself into me. “God, I love you, Baylor. I love you so much,” he says, sighing breathlessly into my shoulder.
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