Not soon enough the door opens. My mother's face falls when she looks at Ryan who is still in full flow. "Ah," she says, arching her brows. She recovers fairly quickly, pasting on a passive-aggressive smile and adopting a faux-cheery voice. "Well, then. I see that Ryan is definitely making his presence known."
I am exhausted and in no mood for my mother's crap. I push her aside. "Thank you, Mother, for that stunning insight," I snap. I regret it at once when I see the look of rage come over her face. "Sorry, Mom, I'm just really tired right now."
My mother composes herself as she sees an opportunity to criticize me. "Yes, Tessa, darling, you look absolutely terrible," she says to me, patting her bouffant hair protectively, as if the funk of me being on an airplane is somehow contagious. "Go wash up before Lyle gets home."
"Where is he, again?" I ask, attempting to haul my own suitcases up the stairs with Ryan in my other arm.
"I told you this already," my mother sighs from the bottom of the staircase, not offering to help me at all.
I vaguely remember her mentioning it in one of the fifty texts she's sent that day. "I've been a little preoccupied today, Mom," I reply to her from the top of the stairs. I stop to catch my breath. I am out of shape from having the baby, thirty pounds heavier than I used to be. I mostly love my new curves but I keep catching Paul looking at me with barely-disguised disgust. It makes me feel like I'm not a woman.
"He is at the airport picking up Jax," she replies.
I nearly drop both suitcases down the stairs, thankfully managing to keep a firm hold on my baby. "Jax?" I ask in a voice that is three octaves higher than my regular voice.
My mother sighs again. "Yes, Jax. I told you that he was coming."
I take the final three steps up to the landing for safety and stability and then turn around to see my mother looking up at me with irritation. "You definitely did not tell me that Jax was coming. I would have remembered that."
My mom waves her hands in the air and shakes her head. "Well, I don't know what to say, Tessa. Because I definitely told you." I say nothing to my mother as I walk down the hallway. "Choose a bedroom, they've all been made up!" she calls up the stairs.
I decide on the third bedroom on the right. It’s enormous and has a perfect view of the pool. If my memory has served me correctly from some of my post-wedding snooping, this is the room with the incredible attached bathroom. I duck my head in and see the double doors that lead to the marble-covered bathroom. I sigh with relief, already thinking of the steaming hot shower I can take later.
"Okay, baby, let's get you settled," I whisper to Ryan, who is on the verge of hyperventilating. I set both suitcases on the top of the bed, relieved that I don’t have to carry them any further. I unzip the bright blue one that is Ryan's to find one of the last bottles of formula I’ve carried across the country. I also pull out one of his blankets, spreading it across the bed with one hand and propping him up against the pillows. Then I hand him the bottle, hoping he won’t be messy about it. In a second, he’s drinking deeply from the bottle, his tears forgotten.
I glance around the room, exhaling. I realize that the crib my mother has promised could be in any one of the twenty-odd bedrooms scattered across this mansion. She could have thought of that when she told me to "pick any room." Oh well.
I put pillows around Ryan so he won't crawl off the bed and walk over to the intercom system on the wall. I tap the glowing screen a few times and find the whole-house intercom. I have no idea where my mother is, though I guess the kitchen is likely since it's an opportunity to hover over the chef while he's cooking.
"Mother?" I hear my voice echo out across the dozens of rooms. The thought of it is slightly creepy. This must have been what it sounded like when she "paged" me on the day of the wedding. My mind flashes to the smell of Jax's body. I hit the intercom button again. "Mother? I need the crib. I'm in the...third bedroom on the right upstairs."
I chew on a fingernail nervously. I glance over at the bed and suddenly have a flash of Jax ramming himself into me. I shake my head and the vision disappears. I see that Ryan has already finished drinking his bottle; he’s fast asleep between the circle of pillows. A second later, a sharp knock is at the door. I turn around and see an older man standing there. His white mustache is perfectly trimmed and gleaming.
"Ms. Tessa?" he asks, uncertainly. He nods behind him and I see he has wheeled an enormous white crib up to the doorway.
"Oh, I didn't mean to make you come all the way-thank you!" I stammer, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that this man is helping me. I open the door for him. My eyes nearly fall out of my head when I see the intricately carved wooden crib. I know this crib. It's on every single mommy website on the internet, teasing the ninety-eight percent of women who could never in a million years afford it. This crib costs more than six mortgage payments, not to mention however much my mom paid her staff to assemble it.
The man crosses the room to a small door. I walk over and see that there is an annex; a small room with a slanted ceiling and two large windows with blackout curtains. "Will this be okay for the little one?" he asks, smiling.
"Yes, absolutely!" I didn't know there was essentially a nursery off of this bedroom. Serendipity at work.
A few moments later, the crib wheels are locked in place and the man hurries out of the room. I carry a deeply sleeping Ryan over and lay him down in his crib. The sheets are a higher thread count than the ones that I have on my own bed. I set Ryan's pacifier into his mouth. He sighs pleasantly.
There’s a baby monitor tucked into the corner of the crib. I smile with relief and take the other half of it with me, shutting the door to the room and sighing.
My relief is short-lived as my mother's voice screeches over the intercom. "They're here, Tessa!"
I look at the clock. Dinner is in ten minutes. I look down at my ratty sweatpants, t-shirt, and cardigan with the holes in it and realize I need to change. I feel sticky and grimy in the way that only air travel can make a person feel. I glance at the double doors to the bathroom and envision a steaming hot shower. It’ll have to be quick, but it’ll be worth it.
I walk over to the intercom, pressing my finger to the screen. "I will see them at dinner in a little bit! I'm...getting dressed!" I say. I know my mother will scold me for my tardiness later, but I don’t care. All I want in this moment is to take a shower and slip into new clothes.
I just want to feel relaxed for five minutes before the rest of this nightmare weekend unfolds in front of my eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JAX
"Jax! Darling!" Cassie nearly throws herself on top of me. I cough a little as her overly-exuberant use of perfume overwhelms my senses. She has the look of a woman who has been swimming in a bigger pond than she's used to and finding the water just fine. Her hair is cut more stylishly, her face has seen several sessions at her local dermatologist, and her makeup is less sloppy than the last time I saw her a few months ago. She's settling into the billionaire life more seamlessly than I would have anticipated.
"You look wonderful, Cassie," I say, kissing her on both cheeks. I pull myself away and stare beyond into the house. I don't realize it at first, but I'm looking for Tessa.
Cassie frowns a little and looks behind her. "Something wrong, dear?"
I shake my head. "No, I - no. I'm fine. I just want to get settled."
"Oh, first, I need your help with something." Before I can object, my father rushes past me and off into the depths of the house, most likely into his office. Money never sleeps, Bud Fox.
Cassie's voice shrieks through the intercom and I realize she's run over to the panel on the wall. "They're here, Tessa!"
My stomach does another backflip at the sound of her name. I pinch my arm. What the fuck is wrong with me? Women call me, I don't call them. I certainly don't get butterflies like some sort of middle schooler.
A slightly raspy, sexy voice comes back through the speaker. "I will see them at dinner in a little
bit! I'm getting dressed!" I feel a shiver go through my body. Tessa, naked, flashes through my mind. I see her round stomach and full tits bent over a bed as her ass is grinding against my dick.
I clear my throat. "What did you need help with?" I ask Cassie, hoping it will somehow dissolve the sexual tension within my own body.
She looks at the intercom panel with annoyance. "Well, I guess Princess Tessa will be holding us up from eating." Cassie collects herself and smiles at me. "I'm looking for the key to the library. Your father told me months ago he was going to get one of the staff to make a new copy because he's claiming that he lost his." She shakes her head. "I don't know how one loses all the keys to a room in the house, but I'm looking for a book and would really love to get in there and take a look around."
A dark cloud falls over my body. The library. How the hell am I going to play this one off? "Oh, I could...take a look around for you."
Cassie claps her hands together. "Wonderful! Where should we start looking first?"
Shit. She wants to follow me around like a puppy. Now I'll actually have to pretend to look. "Uh, let's start in one of the offices, I'd say." I push past Cassie toward the east wing of the house, Tessa's voice still echoing through my head and sending shockwaves through my body. I'll need a few minutes of alone time to collect myself before dinner. It’s been a long day, and having to sit across from her at dinner, knowing that she’s within my reach but I can't touch her? That’s going to give me balls so blue I'm going to mistaken for Pluto.
Cassie buys my act of pretending to search for the keys. I rustle through the office drawers and then pretend to remember that there's a key on my keychain that I haven't used in ages. Of course, it doesn't fit. It's really the key for my locker at the gym. Cassie appeased for now, I beg off and wander upstairs. I breathe a sigh of relief as I reach the long hallway of bedroom doors. Soon enough, I'll have a few moments of peace so I can take care of business.
I walk over to the room I always stay in. It has the largest bathroom and even a little closet with a window that I always use when I need to spend some time alone. Amazing that in a thirty-thousand-square-foot house there are only two places I feel safe: that closet and, well.
The other room.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turn the handle, feeling my dick still awake from Tessa's vocal interruption earlier. It won't take long to do what I need to do. The door opens.
Holy shit.
Tessa is standing in my bedroom, completely naked, holding what looks like a sweater and something else. I can't much see past her perfect, pink nipples that are being kissed by the ends of her red hair. She’s staring at me in shock. I think I see a little hint of something else in her eyes; is it lust? No. That's too much to hope for. The blood comes back into my brain and I manage to make my mouth function again. "Tessa," I say, her name sliding out of my mouth like it's the easiest thing in the world. Hers is the name I've been saying in my sleep.
That's another reason Alyssa and I broke up.
"Jax,” she replies back to me, breathless.
I notice with pleasure that she hasn't bothered hiding her body at all as I drink her in. I feel the urge to cross the room in two strides and bend her over the bed, fucking her until she screams so loudly Cassie comes upstairs and finds us.
That would make for a wonderful Thanksgiving.
I shut the door after what seems like an eternity and walk down the long hallway past ten more bedroom doors and turn right, going down another three and choosing a random door. Hopefully there won't be any postpartum naked stepsisters in this bedroom.
Or hopefully there will be.
I throw my duffle onto the bed and walk over to the attached bathroom, running the taps and splashing my face with ice cold water. It doesn't help my dick. Maybe I should splash that with ice cold water. I look down. It's straining against my pants. I feel like the zipper is going to pop open from the pressure. I need to do something and quickly. The way her hair brushed against her nipples...no. No, Jax.
My mind is barking out all the reasons my attraction to her is a bad idea. My dick is taking those reasons and turning them into fuel. It's getting harder and harder.
Another flash of Tessa's creamy, curvy body goes through my brain. Thinking about her isn't the same as doing something. My brain tells me that's a good thing. My dick tells me otherwise.
I unzip my pants and pull down my black boxer-briefs, grabbing ahold of myself and running my hand down the length of my cock. I could try to think about another woman. But six months of very hands-on experience tells me that isn't going to work. I know better right now.
Within ninety seconds I have the release I’m looking for. I bite my lip to keep from calling out her name.
Tessa.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TESSA
My mother is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. She actually grabs me by the elbow and pulls me away from the direction of the dining room. She looks pissed. "What. Have. I told you about not being late for dinner?"
"I'm sorry, Mother," I reply, trying not to roll my eyes.
Her gaze falls down onto my clothing and her eyes widen in shock. I throw my arms across my chest. "What are you wearing?" She asks me.
What I’m wearing are the piddling contents of Paul’s suitcase; I’d grabbed the wrong one by mistake in my rush to leave my own house earlier. Tucked amongst his too-small-for-me clothes was a black, vintage negligee that I hadn’t had room for in my own bag and a grey cardigan of Paul’s that doesn’t cover my chest. My boyfriend is skinny. I am not. My plane clothes had already been whisked away for cleaning by my mother’s staff while I was in the shower.
These were the meager options I was combing through when Jax walked in on me naked. I burned at the recent memory. The way Jax’s eyes had brushed across my breasts made me feel like I was going to be his dessert.
"Mom, I'm tired and hungry and had some issues with packing. Can we please just go eat? You're keeping Lyle and Jax waiting,” I say, trying not to sigh with too much attitude.
My mom's mouth is set in a firm line. I try not to grin, knowing that I’ve beaten her at her own game for once. We certainly can’t keep anyone waiting. I wrench my arm away from my mom and march into the dining room. Silver trays of food with domed lids line the enormous table that could easily accommodate thirty people. Lyle and Jax are perched comically at one end.
They both stand up to greet me as I walk over to them. "Tessa, you look well," Lyle says somewhat stiffly, kissing me on the cheek and giving me a perfunctory hug. I give him credit. His eyes only fall briefly to my enormous chest. The tops of my braless breasts are spilling out of the thin silk. I'm not sure even I have that kind of self-control to not look.
Jax is smirking. His tattoos ripple as he reaches his arm out to me. "Tessa. Good to see you...again," he says, a smile flashing through his eyes. The look disappears so quickly I feel I might have imagined it. I blush and sit down at my seat, taking my cloth napkin and spreading it over my lap.
"Well, let's eat before everything is ice cold," my mother says perfunctorily, taking her place at the head of the table.
There’s silence for a few minutes while people fill their dishes. My stomach rumbles loudly as the scent of roasted pork floats through the air. Air travel always makes me ravenous, and I hadn't had enough money to buy any food at the airport other than a bag of stale potato chips. Paul is the one who carries cash. Because we are on such a tight budget, I am not allowed to spend any money without him knowing. The loss of independence has cut me to the core, but there is little to be done about it until Ryan is able to go to the public kindergarten around the corner. Then I can go back to work.
I pile my plate high with roasted potatoes, Caesar salad, roasted pork slices, and three pieces of garlic bread. As I dig in hungrily, I feel my mother's disapproving glance burning through the top of my head.
"So, Tessa, how are things with you and Paul and the baby?" Lyle asks, setti
ng his fork down and taking a sip of water.
I am mid-bite and it takes an awkward length of time for me to finish chewing. Everyone is looking at me except for Jax, who is once again intently focused on a spot just above my right shoulder. Then he moves his eyes to my face and gives me a wink with a grin. His dimples pop into view. I’m speechless for a long while until I remember that Lyle has asked me a question. "Things are great. Well, things are fine. Paul's been working long hours. He was called in to stay at work late, that's why he's not here yet."
I think I see a look of displeasure on Jax’s face, but soon he’s reaching for more wine.
Lyle nods sagely. "Cassie mentioned that to me. I hope he's not working too hard. It's always good to get some time away from these things. Does he get to see Ryan a lot?"
I nod. That nod is a lie. "As much as he can," I say. Okay, that’s not a total lie, but more an obfuscation. I’ve been having a gnawing feeling that Paul doesn’t want to be at home, but there is no way I am going to say that in front of my mother. Right after the words leave my mouth, I swear Jax darts his eyes over to me. But when I try to meet his eye line, he is firmly focused on his plate.
"Oh, poor Paul," my mother tuts sympathetically. "And having to commute in all that awful weather you've been having. It must be terrible."
I feel a manic urge to speak what is on my mind, which is that it is also terrible to be housebound without any adults to talk to all day long; to have your boyfriend check the gas tank at night to make sure that you aren't driving too much and wasting money. Instead, I just nod again. "I've been staying busy with Ryan at home. I set up my easel again in the living room and was hoping to get back to painting." I think of last week when Ryan power-crawled over to the easel and nearly pulled it down on top of himself. I'd had to tuck it away again in the closet. But again I hold my words.
“You’re a painter?” Jax asks me with a serious look on his face. It’s been so long since someone has asked me about anything other than Ryan, I can’t come up with a response.
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