Wicked Prince Charmings: Blue Saffire & Co. Fairy Tales

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Wicked Prince Charmings: Blue Saffire & Co. Fairy Tales Page 19

by Blue Saffire


  I stop for minute to take in what he’s saying. We’re obviously talking about more than just this bat.

  I pull up to a red light and turn to look at my passenger. I observe him for the first time. He looks so much like Sienna, but I definitely see other features in him. Those eyes definitely aren’t hers.

  “No person is perfect.”

  He shakes his head and looks down at his hands resting in his lap. “Yeah, but not everyone is flawed, either.”

  “You’re not flawed. Who—” A horn goes off behind me letting me know the light is green. I take my foot off the brakes and drive. “Who said you were flawed?”

  It takes a moment for him to answer. “I overheard my dad telling one of his friends that he had one flawed kid, and he’d have one normal one.”

  What the fuck? Who says stuff like that about their own kid? I don’t care if my kid had two thumbs on each finger and a third eye. It would be my kid and I’d whoop anyone’s ass that made them think something was wrong.

  Clearly, Maddox’s dad is a fuck-up, and he doesn’t deserve him or Sienna.

  “Look, I don’t know what you have going on, but you aren’t flawed. It seems to me like the problem is with your dad and not you.”

  I pull into the paved driveway of an Arts and Crafts style home. Its green siding popping against the dark brown trim. A bike is parked on the grass and a basketball goal is nailed up over the garage. This house fits perfectly with Sienna’s personality. I turn off the car and look back at Maddox.

  “I’m not good at stuff like this. Not like your mom is, but here’s what I know. The world will always label you. They’ll try to put you in a neat little box. A box that sets your limits for you. It’s your job to always break out of that box. Do you know how you get out of that box?”

  He shakes his head.

  “By being true to yourself and not worrying about what anyone else thinks of you.” I smile before I say the last part. “People can say what they want about you, but it’s up to you to give it the power to hurt you.”

  He giggles. “You got that from my mom.”

  “Yeah, I did but it’s the truth.” I chuckle.

  The kid gives me a smile. “Thanks, Coach Dean. And um, could you not tell my mom about what my dad said.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t like keeping secrets from your mom.”

  “I understand. I just... I know she will say something to Dad, and he can be kind of mean to her.”

  “Mean how?”

  He shrugs. “Just mean.”

  This is something I am going to have to look into. I didn’t ask Sienna questions about her ex, because he didn’t concern me. Now I may have to start digging.

  Maddox climbs out of my car and heads to the trunk. I join him to help him pull his stuff out and then head to the house. Potted flowers line the short steps up to the front porch where a swing sits. I open the storm door and knock.

  It takes a few knocks before I can hear her voice call out. “Just a minute.”

  The front door opens, and a breathless Sienna stands wearing nothing but a gray towel that barely hits the top of her thighs. Water cascades down her body in rivulets. Her ample cleavage almost spills over the top of the towel where she is clutching it closed. Those magnificent thighs touching in all the best places.

  Her curves are on full fucking display and my dick is waking up. She is glorious from the top of her thick curly black hair to the tips of her chubby pink painted toes. So much beautiful bronze-brown skin. My hands ache to touch it, to run my fucking tongue over it and see if it tastes like the sweet scent she so often smells like.

  “Dean, what are you doing here?” she tugs nervously at the bottom of her towel, drawing my attention to the apex of those thighs that is barely hidden behind it.

  I have to clear my throat before I speak. I open my mouth, but Maddox replies, “Hey mom.” She looks past me to her son standing behind me with his bat bag on his back.

  “Wait, what—”

  “Dad never came,” he simply says before brushing past both of us to enter the house.

  I watch the look of anger and hurt combine on her features.

  “We waited for nearly an hour, but he didn’t come. Maddox said he wanted to come home.” She doesn’t reply, just nods her head. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  I know right then that Sienna is pissed, because she doesn’t think to tell me no, or let me know how inappropriate it is. She just steps back opening the door wider. I walk into the house and I’m immediately hit with the scent of Bath and Body Works.

  I’ve passed by that place enough times in the mall to have that smell burned into my memory. The house is clean and very well lit. Lots of woodwork, exposed beams, and hardwood floors.

  “Your home is beautiful,” I say turning to find her shutting the door.

  “Thank you.”

  It is beautiful. Not nearly as big or as expensive as mine, but it feels more homely than the white walls of my own at the moment.

  “I’m going to go and check on him.” She points to the two-quarter landing staircase behind her.

  I nod my head and she backs away from me until she gets to the stairs. When she turns around, I see why she backed away first, the towel is even shorter in the back giving me a very brief glimpse of the bottom of her luscious ass.

  Holy shit.

  I moan in the back of my throat and discreetly maneuver my erection in my baller shorts. There’s no way I will forget that image. Ever.

  I know Sienna is considered a plus size girl, but she still has an hourglass figure. One I crave to expose inch by inch. I walk into the living room, or what I assume is the living room from the couches and TV.

  I check out the pictures on the mantle. There are mostly baby pictures of Maddox and one of Sienna, a baby Maddox, and a light brown skinned guy with eyes like Maddox’s. I assume it’s his father.

  I move past that picture to one of Sienna as a little girl. She couldn’t be more than five. She’s with another girl that looks about ten. They’re at a church, both wearing frilly dresses and pigtails. I get that strange feeling of Déjà vu again.

  “Guess what, Coach Dean?” Maddox says behind me, causing me to spin around. “Mom said you can stay for dinner.”

  Sienna walks down the stairs at that moment wearing shorts and a cut off sweater that shows off her middle and exposes one shoulder. Damn she looks good.

  “Um, thanks for letting me stay. I hope it doesn’t put you out.”

  “No, you’re fine. It’s just left-over lasagna and we have plenty.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest, showing off a little more of her plush belly. I find it hard to look away from that peek of beautiful exposed brown skin. Someone clears their throat and I refocus on her face. She smiles and ducks her head.

  “Come on, Coach. I want to show you my backyard.” Maddox heads out toward the back of the house and I give Sienna one last glance before heading out back with him.

  ***

  About fifteen minutes later, Maddox and I are laughing while heading back into the house. Sienna’s shouted words make me pause. I hold out a hand to stop Maddox right at the back door leading into the kitchen.

  “I don’t care what came up, Quentin. He’s your son. You didn’t even think to call and let me know.”

  I can’t make out his response, but from the way his voice is carrying through the phone he’s pissed and he’s yelling. I watch Sienna from the other side of the glass door. Her back is to me, but I can tell she’s crying by the sound of her voice cracking and the way she keeps wiping at her face.

  “No, no, you listen.” She raises her voice to be heard over the shouting coming through the phone. “Maddox may not be your first priority, but he damn sure is mine. From here on out, keep your measly time to yourself. We no longer need it.”

  She pulls the phone from her ear and ends the call. After tossing the phone down on the counter she places one hand on the edge of the counter
and bends at the waist as if she’s catching her breath. When the phone goes off again, she picks it up, scoffs, and places it back down.

  I nod toward Maddox and he walks in announcing himself.

  “Hey, Mom, is dinner ready?”

  Sienna startles and turns around to meet us as she wipes hurriedly at her face. Despite her trying to brush away the tears and placing a practiced smile on her face, it’s clear she’s been crying.

  “Yeah, sorry guys. I was just about to come out to get you.”

  I didn’t like this. I didn’t like the fake smile or the tears I still see dancing in her eyes, and I damn sure didn’t like that dude raising his voice at her. But I have no claim to her, so I don’t have a right to say anything. However, it doesn’t mean I’m not pissed the fuck off.

  “Maddox help me set the table, will you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  ***

  The sound of Maddox’s soft snores alerts me he’s finally asleep. I stand to my feet stretching out my stiff leg. Gathering up the box of baseball cards he showed me, I place them back on the bookshelf in his room. I switch off the lamp and quietly close the door on my way out. I got to spend some real time with the kid.

  I’m glad. He’s a good kid. He knows his shit. He knows baseball better than I do.

  After dinner, I came upstairs to put him to bed once he showered. I wanted to stay and help Sienna with the dishes and maybe talk to her, but I could tell her mind was still troubled by that phone conversation.

  I walk back down the hall and stop at the door where I hear movement. Inside the room, I find her sitting on the bed with a glass of wine staring at a picture. I tap my knuckles on her door. She looks up at me and smiles.

  “He’s sleep?”

  “Yeah, he talked until his body shut down on him.”

  “You’re lucky. He is very selective about who he allows close to him. He took to you pretty easily,” she says with a hint of amusement.

  “The kid has good taste.”

  She laughs and my job is complete. I’ve been wanting a genuine smile from her since I came in that back door.

  I walk into the room and close the door behind me before I turn to take the space in. My eyes scan over everything, from the cream-colored walls to the thousand accent pillows that line the plush headboard of her bed. Her room fits her, classy and feminine.

  She watches me closely, not once telling me to get out. I walk further into the room standing by her. “You want to tell me about that conversation tonight?”

  She huffs, not even pretending she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “Not necessarily. But I guess I owe it to you. You did bring Maddox home.”

  I take a seat on the bed near her, my shoulder touching hers. “He seemed pretty bummed about his father not showing up.”

  She snorts. “Unfortunately, that isn’t the first time.”

  “Well, why do you keep letting him do it?”

  She turns to me and pins me in place with a feisty glare. “Let him? Nobody let’s Quentin Johnson do anything. He does what he wants, despite anyone else’s feelings.”

  “Tell me about him?” I ask trying to calm her down.

  Her brow kicks up and she stares at me. “Are you sure you want to hear this story?”

  I smile. She doesn’t know how bad I want to know about this dude. I want to know what worked for him so that I can get my chance with her. I also want to know what didn’t, so I can know what not to do when it comes to her.

  “I’m all ears.”

  She shrugs, then knocks back her glass of wine before placing it on her nightstand. “I met Quentin when I was in college.” She turns on the bed to face me, one leg bent at the knee and the other touching the floor. “I was in the process of falling in love with myself when I met him. We were at the campus gym. When he first walked up to me, I thought I was dreaming.” She snickers. “Never had a guy that fine given me the time of day.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Trust me, it wasn’t that hard to believe. I wasn’t actually popular in school.”

  I don’t think I can believe that, but I don’t say anything. This is her story.

  “Anyway.” She continues. “Quentin swept me off my feet. I fell in love with him so hard and so quickly, I was like a puppy on a leash. No matter what he did, I wouldn’t let him go. I got pregnant with Maddox at the end of my freshmen year.”

  Her eyes glaze over as she casts them to the wall.

  “It broke my father’s heart. He wanted me to get married before the baby came, but like the puppy that I was, I told him that Quentin and I didn’t believe in marriage.” She looks back at me.

  “You don’t believe in marriage?” This bothered me for some reason.

  Seeing that I’m about to be divorced, I should be agreeing with her, but it doesn’t sit well with what I know about her.

  “Of course, I do.” She looks down and picks at lint on her comforter. “Quentin didn’t believe in marriage. Well, marriage to me.” Another shrug, before she looks back at me. “We made it work the entire pregnancy and for a while after Maddox was born, but the older he got the more I realized that our relationship was one sided. I loved Quentin, and he loved his self.”

  “What made you leave?”

  She stared at me for a second before deciding to respond.

  “I started noticing small things, not the lying and the cheating, but the bullying. He never became physical with me,” she clarifies quickly when my hands fisted on my knee. “But it was just the way he treated me. I was like a chore for him. He would come home and give me whatever left over energy he had for sex, and that was it. He barely talked to me and when he did it was something negative or mean. I was his burden.”

  “That must have been tough. Loving someone that didn’t love you back.” I grab her hand that is aimlessly pulling at strings on her comforter. I rub soothing circles on the back with my thumb. This seems to relax her a little.

  “It was. I packed up my bags and my son and I told him I was done. He didn’t even bat an eye when I left.”

  “How old was Maddox?”

  “About four at the time. Quentin came to my job and pleaded with me to let him continue to be in Maddox’s life. He said that he didn’t want to be a dead-beat dad.”

  Funny, that’s exactly what he’s turning into. I don’t say this out loud. I continue to let her talk.

  “We agreed to share custody. At the time, I thought it was more important for him to be involved in Maddox’s life than it was for child support, so I never applied for it. Up until about three years ago, our deal worked.”

  “What changed?” I’m very curious to figure this out. How does a man go from pleading to be in a child’s life, to forgetting him at practice? Doesn’t seem to add up.

  She rolls her eyes. “He met someone else.” She scoffs. “At first I let the negligence slide. I assumed that he was trying to build his life and he needed the extra time. After he got married, I thought that everything would go back to normal, but it got worse.

  The new wife already had a kid and her kid didn’t get along with mine. So Maddox’s visits got cut short. Instead of Friday through Sunday, it became Saturday afternoon to Sunday morning. Then she got pregnant.”

  I’d picked up on this being an issue from her before. That first conversation we had about Maddox and baseball, she mentioned his father and a new child.

  “Well, then it became whenever Quentin felt like it. And I allowed it, because I didn’t want my kid to grow up without a father. I knew how important the role was to me, and I wanted that for Maddox. So, I endured the bullshit. I didn’t argue when Quentin got angry or mean. I just took it because I was doing it for Maddox. And with all that he has to deal with, I just wanted it to be easy for him.”

  I think about this before I mention it. I don’t want to break Maddox’s trust, but I want to know. “Maddox mentioned something about being flawed today. What’s he talking about?”


  She looks to me and those expressive eyes widen before they glisten with tears.

  “Maddox is dyslexic. He has difficulty with reading and sometimes finding the right words to form a sentence. He works hard at understanding things other kids his age grasp naturally.”

  “Wait,” I say shaking my head. “He just read me every stat off of his baseball cards.”

  She smiles proudly. A smile only reserved for a mother talking about her child.

  “His memory is impeccable. He listens to baseball stats and books and everything else he can find on audio, and he remembers them. It’s his way of coping with the condition. It’s also why he talks to you about the same topics.”

  It makes sense. Maddox always talks to me about baseball or sports. It would also explain why he takes so many pauses during his conversations.

  “I wasn’t joking when I said that Maddox doesn’t let many people in.” She continues. “He’s embarrassed about his diagnoses so he doesn’t make friends easily and often times he can be a bit quick tempered about it.”

  I nod my head. “Like the situation at practice my first day?”

  “Yeah, most of the coaches and the kids on the team know about his diagnoses and that he likes to be left alone. However, there’s always that one child that likes to pick at the quiet kid that barely talks.”

  I had no idea. And now it makes what his dad said about him even shittier. Maddox is a damn good kid, and smart. He deserves a lot better than what his dad gives him.

  “I don’t want you stressing over his dad anymore. I think Maddox should take a break from seeing him for a while.”

  She laughs. “Oh really?”

  “Yes. He doesn’t need him around breaking promises. If Maddox needs a man in his life, I’ll be that man.”

  I watch as the joking smile on her face fades away. She rolls her eyes. “Don’t play like that.”

  “I’m not playing. I’m trying to be the man in your life and his.”

  Her sultry gaze locks onto mine and for a second, she just stares at me. Then she’s shaking her head again and climbs to her feet. “No.”

 

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