Chasing Him

by Kennedy Fox

  Her words shock me, and I’m not sure how to feel. Relieved? Confused maybe?

  “And is this something that happens…often?” I dread her response, but I need to know I’m not just another pawn in their games.

  “In some ways, yes, but never to this extent. Jackson has tried to steal a girl from John a time or two, but it’s never fazed him before. With you, it definitely fazes him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  JOHN

  The fact that Kiera is over at the house with Mila right now makes me feel uneasy and edgy. I like Kiera, and we have a decent friendship, but I don’t trust either of them not to gossip. I sent Mila a text over an hour ago and still haven’t gotten a response.

  Yeah, that can’t be good.

  I’m sitting in my office when Nicole comes barging in. She takes a seat across my desk and crosses her legs.

  “Sure, come in,” I deadpan.

  She starts going on and on about something, and once I finally get her to leave, I pack up to head out myself. I can’t wait to see Maize even though I did this afternoon.

  It’s crazy how much I miss her when I’m gone even if I’m only a few feet away.

  I let my staff know I’m on my way out and wave before rushing out the side door. I love that I have a short walk to get home to Maize. Although I’m not sure what I’ll be coming home to tonight, considering how lunch went.

  The moment I walk in, a mixed aroma of bleach and meat hit my senses. The first thing I notice when I step into the living room is how tidy everything looks. Did Mila clean?

  “Hello?” I call out, setting my jacket on the arm of the couch.

  “We’re in here!” I hear her call from the kitchen with a cheery voice, and I hope that means there’s no more awkwardness between us.

  The moment I spot her, I see how wrong I am.

  Not only is the house spotless, but she made dinner—more like a damn feast. There’s a spread on the table, Maize’s in her little vibrating chair, and Mila’s dolled up in a tight dress, heels, and her dark hair is curled into waves. She has an apron tied around her waist, and she looks like she walked out of a Southern cookbook. My eyes gaze down her body from the curves of her breasts to her long, lean legs that are seriously testing my willpower.

  What the hell is she thinking wearing that? It barely qualifies as a dress. That apron, though, has me thinking all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about how she’d look wearing only that.

  Bent over my seat like she was earlier, running her mouth and testing my limits.

  Fuck me.

  “Hey!” She turns around with a wide smile. Her makeup’s heavier than usual and her bright red lipstick is distracting me in every way possible. “Dinner is almost ready if you wanna wash up. I made your favorite!”

  Flicking my eyes to the table, I see she’s made chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes, white gravy, and corn on the cob. It’s a feast, and I’m thoroughly confused why she’d go out of her way to make my favorite dishes, considering the way things ended this afternoon with her all pissed and ready for a fight. Though now that I’m seeing this side of her, I can’t complain either.

  “Wow…it smells amazing,” is all I can say. “How’d you know?” I blink my eyes away from her and concentrate on Maize as I walk toward her.

  “I called your mama, and she told me,” she states proudly.

  After unstrapping Maize, I hold her to my chest and feather kisses on her chunky little cheeks. “Did you have a good afternoon?” I ask her as if she understands.

  “She did,” Mila responds. “Well, she napped mostly. And I cleaned. Then Kiera came over and visited, and then I started dinner. But I did get her on the floor for some tummy time, which she hates with a passion still, and then we read a couple of stories, danced to some music, and I was just telling her all the secrets I’m learning about you.” She grins, and there’s a sparkle in her eye that makes me suspicious. So not only did she talk with Kiera this afternoon but Mama as well. Just great.

  “That sounds highly productive,” I say, impressed. “You really didn’t have to, Mila. I mean, I appreciate it, but I’m not paying you to clean up after me.”

  She sighs, her shoulders relaxing as she steps into my space and leans in to give Maize a kiss. “I know. You tell me that at least every other day. But I need to keep myself busy. I just graduated from college, so I’m used to doing something. When she naps, I’m bored.”

  I put Maize back in her chair and buckle her before facing Mila. “Well, thank you. It’s nice having someone to come home to.” I flash her a genuine smile and look at her dress more closely. “Why are you so dressed up?”

  The timer on the stove beeps, and she turns to shut it off before pulling a pan of rolls out of the oven. “I’m going out tonight. Made some plans after you told me I should get out more, so I figured, why not?” She sounds super giddy about it, which ticks me off. Not about her going out but if that person is my devious twin brother, I might blow a gasket.

  “Oh. I see.” I want to ask her where and with whom, but it’s not my business. I’m the one who told her to get out of the house and that we need boundaries, but I’m dying to know anyway. I stick Maize back in her seat and notice there’s a bottle ready to go on the table as well.

  “Okay, everything’s ready!” she announces, placing the bread on the table, and that’s when I realize there’s only one place setting.

  “Aren’t you eating?” I ask, taking a seat. “I can’t possibly eat all of this, and Maize isn’t a big eater,” I tease.

  She chuckles, waving me off. “Actually, no. I have to head out in a few minutes. But you enjoy, okay? Put the leftovers in the fridge, and then I’ll warm it up for lunch tomorrow if you want.”

  “You have to eat, Mila,” I say, grabbing her wrist to pull her back as she steps away.

  Her eyes gaze down to where my hand is, but I don’t remove it. Adding pressure, her arm relaxes in my grip, and I love feeling her warmth even if it’s wrong. Aside from bumping into one another at random times, I’ve done my best to physically distance myself to avoid touching her, but now that I am—even just a small part—I don’t want to let go.

  She clears her throat when neither of us speaks. “I will, promise. I’ll eat when I’m out.”

  At that revelation, I release her and swallow, directing my eyes back to the food in front of me.

  “Okay, Maize Grace. You be good for your daddy, okay?” Mila leans over and presses kisses to her small hands. Maize responds with cooing and kicking her feet.

  “I think she’ll be ready for a jumper soon,” she informs me. “Usually between the four to six-month range.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, furrowing my brows as I grab the tongs and grab a piece of chicken.

  “Well for my sister’s kid, I got him a Jumperoo where it holds them in place, and they can bounce and spin around to play with toys. It’s good in helping strengthen their muscles for crawling and walking. My nephew loved his, and it gives you some time to set them down when all they want to do is be held.”

  I try to imagine what this contraption looks like but honestly have no clue. I’m so out of my element when it comes to this stuff, and it feels like I’ll never fully grasp it. She must see the confused look on my face because she bursts out laughing.

  “I’ll find a link and text it to you, so you know what I’m talking about.” She glances over at the clock and then grabs her phone from the counter. “I gotta run, but I’ll be back by ten at the latest to grab Maize for her first night feeding.”

  “Uh, okay. Have fun.” I pinch my lips together to keep myself from asking the handful of questions I have. I know I don’t have a right to, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to find out. “Oh and Mila…” She stops just as she steps into the hallway and leans back to peek her head into the kitchen. She has her brows raised as she waits for me to speak. “Be safe.”

  “Don’t worry, boss.” She winks at me with a devilish smile that makes m
e want to tear that dress right off her. “If I can handle you, I think I can handle anything.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?” I ask Emily and groan, tilting my head back to finish off my third beer of the night. Maize’s asleep already, but I’m too anxious, waiting for Mila to return, to go to bed.

  I called to talk to Evan, but as soon as he realized it was to talk about chicks, he passed the phone to Em instead.

  Bastard.

  She’s laughing, clearly amused by my situation. “John, how can a guy like you be so dense?”

  “Oh look, the Evan charm has rubbed off on you. Never mind.”

  I’m about to hang up when she shouts at me to wait. “You Bishops are a lot to handle. Why don’t any of y’all realize this?”

  Emily’s about to pop any day now with my niece, and while I’m excited as hell for them, it’s voided any kind of filter on her. She’s edgy, grumpy that she’s still pregnant and not getting a lot of sleep, and according to Evan, horny as hell.

  I could’ve gone without knowing that last bit.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I ask. “If she can handle me, she can handle anything? Like I’m so difficult?” I grunt, wondering if I should be insulted by that or not. “I just know she’s out with Jackson. She said she visits her grandma and cousin on the weekends, so who else would she know ’round here?”

  “So what if she is? You did tell her she could, right?”

  I hear Evan laughing his ass off, which means I’ve been on speaker this whole time. They both suck.

  “You dumbass,” Evan taunts. “You baited her right into Jackson’s slutty arms.”

  I lean back on the couch, rolling my eyes until they close. I only said that so she wouldn’t think I was acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend but a boss concerned about her feelings. Obviously, that all backfired on me now.

  “That’s it. I’m going over there.”

  “Maize,” is all Emily says, reminding me that I can’t just leave my house. Not without my baby at least.

  “Fine. I’m calling him then.”

  Emily chuckles, and I can just imagine her shaking her head at me, judging me with her pregnant gaze.

  “Okay, well good luck with that,” Evan says. “If he’s bangin’ her, the last thing he’s gonna do is answer your damn call.”

  And with that remark, I hang up and immediately dial Jackson.

  Motherfucker better answer his goddamn phone.

  It rings and rings, and I start getting ready to unleash the wrath on his voicemail when he finally picks up.

  “What’s up?” he asks, breathlessly. “I’m kinda busy. Whatcha need?”

  “Uh, just wonderin’ what you’re doing. Wanna come over for a beer?” I ask and immediately wish I could put the words back in my mouth. I rarely ask him to hang out so now he’s definitely going to suspect something’s up.

  “Well, actually…” he begins but is soon interrupted by laughter. A girl’s laughter. It’s too far in the distance to know if it’s Mila’s or not, and considering Jackson’s track record with women, it’s not unusual for him to be with someone right now. However, my gut tells me he’s with her.

  “Is that Mila?” I grind out, needing to know so I can pummel his ass later.

  “That’s not really any of your business, now is it?” he taunts with amusement, and if Maize wasn’t sleeping right now, I’d pack her up and haul ass over to his place.

  “Jackson,” I warn, sitting up. “Don’t push me.”

  “Bro, relax. She’s not yours to claim. Unless…” he lingers, and I know exactly what he’s going to say. Unless I want to fuck her. Damn asshole enjoys pissing me off.

  “Fuck you.” I hang up on him, realizing I’m not going to get any answers anyway, and while I shouldn’t be reacting this way to the thought of Mila out with him, or any other guy, I can’t stop the thoughts from haunting me.

  Not only is she stunning in a way that makes me wonder how this girl is even single in the first place, but she’s kind, caring, passionate, and funny. She gets along with everyone, and if she wasn’t someone I hired to watch my baby, I would’ve made a move on her the first time we met. Except that isn’t the case, and if I don’t remind my dick of that, I’m going to be the first man known to die from blue balls.

  I flip through channels while I impatiently wait and let out a sigh of relief when I finally hear her coming in at ten to ten. She walks into the living room as I’m lying on the couch with my arm resting over my head. The only light comes from the TV, but I can make out her silhouette as she crosses the room. I don’t make a sound or move as I wait to see what her next move is. Just as I exhale, thinking she’s turning off the TV, she surprises me when she returns with a blanket. She covers me up, and I almost feel guilty for not letting her know I’m awake.

  “I’m home,” she whispers above my head in that sweet, sultry tone of hers. I feel her hand linger on my other arm that’s resting across my stomach as she places the blanket over me. “Goodnight, John,” she says softly and begins to step away, and before I can stop myself, I reach out and grab her leg.

  “Oomph,” she mutters, nearly falling but luckily catches herself on the arm of the couch. “You scared me. You always do that.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” I shift my body, so I can look up at her and study her face. “You have a good time tonight?” I ask, gauging her reaction before I assume anything.

  She smiles wide, almost as if she’s reliving it. “Yeah.” She nods. “Yeah, I did. It was fun.”

  I swallow hard, pulling myself up, so I’m sitting upright. She looks content, and I should be happy about that, but I can’t stop the wave of jealousy that surfaces. I hate feeling this way; in fact, I never feel this way, which irritates the fuck out of me even more.

  “Well, I better get to bed. Five a.m. comes way too early.” Standing up, I get a better view of Mila and notice how messy her hair is and smudged her makeup looks. Pursing my lips into a firm line, I don’t say another word before I walk away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  MILA

  “Oh, Maize!” I laugh even though I really want to cry. She spits up on me for the third time today, and I’m starting to question why I even wear shirts around her now. “I hope you aren’t allergic to your formula or something.” I make a mental note to talk to John about it later so he can talk to her doctor—just in case.

  It’s been just over a month since I’ve been taking care of Maize, and I still don’t know anything about her mother. I want to ask and find out where she is or why she isn’t in the picture, but John’s been distant and weird, and I feel like I’m in the way half the time when he’s home. I continue cooking him dinner every night after work, and when I stick around on those nights to eat with him, we sit in awkward silence or use Maize as a buffer. I’ll catch him looking at me, and he’ll look away as if keeping eye contact with me is physically painful for him or something. I don’t get it.

  I don’t get him.

  “You think your daddy’s gonna be in a good or a crabby mood today?” I ask Maize when I place her in the swing so I can find a clean shirt. She giggles at my baby talk, and I laugh right along with her. “Yeah, I agree. He’s been a tad crabby lately, hasn’t he?”

  I toss my shirt over my head, and even though I’m in a sports bra, it feels nice having the cool air against my skin. It’s been getting warmer out, which means it’s humid and muggy too. Just as I turn to walk to my room for a clean shirt, my phone rings and distracts me.

  I notice it’s my mother and immediately pick up. “Hey, Mom!”

  “Sweet girl, hey! How’s it goin’? I miss you!”

  “I miss you too, Mom!” I kneel beside Maize’s swing and make funny faces at her. “Sorry I haven’t called in a few days. Things are going well. Maize’s growing like a weed right before my eyes.” I scrunch my nose and lean into Maize to kiss her precious cheeks.

  “Just wanted to call and see how everything was
going so far. Was thinking about sending you a care package. Anything you need?”

  My ears perk up at that. “Um, not that I can think of. Maybe some more clothes? Other than that, I think I’m doing pretty good. I’ll have to send you some more pics of Maize. I know it’s only been a little over a month, but she’s growing up so fast.”

  “That’s how babies do. I still remember holding you in my arms and how precious you were. You’re still making me proud, Mila. Always were so independent and still are.”

  Mom and I chat for the next twenty minutes, and I’m so lost in the conversation and tickling Maize, I don’t even hear the door click closed.

  “Hot damn!” I hear Jackson howling behind me. I look at him over my shoulder, and he flashes me a seductive wink. “No wonder John’s been in a shit mood.”

  “I gotta run, Mom. I’ll call you later to check in. Okay. Love you too. Bye.”

  I lock my phone and scowl at Jackson. “What does that mean?” I ask, offended. He makes an extra effort to stop in when John isn’t home, and I’ve suspected it was either to check up on me or to get under John’s skin.

  I’ve assumed the latter, but I’ve also learned these Bishop boys are anything but predictable.

  “Well babe, it means you walkin’ around half naked is making every guy’s fantasy come to life, except John won’t make a move, so he’s sportin’ the biggest case of blue balls thinking about it.”

  I nearly choke on his words. “What are you talking—” I stop myself as I quickly remember I forgot to put on a clean shirt. I’m still in my sports bra and work out shorts. “Shit,” I mutter, feeling my cheeks heat.

  “It’s hot as fuck, so it’s not like I blame you, but you gotta know it’s killin’ him,” Jackson adds, and I feel so lost that I stand, picking Maize up with me and walk toward my room.