by Sierra Hill
“I know. It just really threw me for a loop and I still feel off balanced somehow, you know?”
Edging over to sit next to her, I placed my hand over her knee, patting it in a show of support.
“I totally get that. Who wouldn’t? I feel off-balanced a little right now, too.”
I shared my concerns about how Garrett was acting toward me this week, revealing all the naughty parts of our intimate relationship as she held her hand over her gaping mouth.
“See!” She pointed at me with a coffee cup in hand, index finger out. “I knew that panty and bra set would do the trick. What man could resist that hotness? Well, aside from Kyler, that is.”
We laughed and had another cup of coffee before I had to leave to pick up Caleb, who was happy to see me, wrapping his tiny arms around my neck in a big hug.
And now, as we wait in the family room for Garrett, butterflies and nerves swarm my stomach, flitting around as if trying to escape. I’ve missed Garrett so much, but am scared to admit it to him, especially feeling like he’s a bit uncertain of where things stand between us.
I suck in my breath, encouraging Caleb to get ready to surprise his Daddy, as Garrett appears from around the corner, dropping his bags on the floor, looking haggard and disheveled, but still utterly handsome.
The royal blue tie hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing the sexy wisps of hair between his pecs. The gray suit jacket hangs over his forearm, which is exposed to the elbows under the rolled-up sleeves.
All my nerves take flight and I’m left staring at the man I think I’ve fallen in love with.
I lean down to whisper in Caleb’s ear. “Are you ready? Go ahead.”
The sweetest, toothless grin I’ve ever seen erupts across his face, as he turns to look up at me, nodding with eagerness.
Garrett stops, the creased frown at his lips unfolding into a beautiful smile when his eyes land on his son.
“Hey, buddy.” He takes a few steps forward but I hold out my hand in the universal form of ‘stop.’
Garrett stops abruptly, a crinkle forming between his brows, but takes a started step back the minute he hears the robotic, Siri- voice from Caleb’s iPad.
“Hi, Daddy! I’m glad you’re home. I missed you so much.”
Garrett curses softly, blinks twice, stares at Caleb and then slowly, methodically, his gaze moves to mine.
No matter what happens between Garrett and me from here on out, nothing compares to this moment. The way he stares at me in wonder, and I feel the emotion welling in my eyes. Because the gratefulness and love that emanates from his expressive eyes at this moment is everything I’ll ever need until my dying day.
In two large strides, he sweeps down to pick up his son, cradling him in his arms tightly, his discarded jacket landing on the floor next to my feet.
“Caleb, I’ve missed you so much, too. I can’t believe you just spoke to me,” he rumbles with unbridled emotion. I notice the tears welling in his eyes, but he blinks them away, holding Caleb at his chest so he can look him in the eyes. “You are the smartest boy in the world and I’m so proud of you for learning how to speak.”
Caleb coos and babbles then holds his arm out to me. At first, I think he wants the iPad to converse some more with his dad, so I pick it up from my lap to hand it to him, but he shakes his head.
I cock my head with a frown. “What do you need, buddy?”
He squirms in his father’s arms and reaches out both hands, opening and closing his fists at me.
“You.”
I slowly rise to my feet with trembling legs and step forward. I’m gifted with the scent of baby soft skin of a boy and the masculine, spice of a man.
Caleb flings his arms wide, tugging me into him as Garrett embraces me in his arm, as well.
“That was incredible, Brooklyn. Thank you,” Garrett whispers in my ear, kissing my temple, as I smile through my tears.
We hug for a few moments until Caleb gets restless and wants down. Garrett bends down and places him on his butt on the floor, as we watch his quick scoot over to his trucks and toys in the corner, leaving Garrett standing at my side.
“Brooklyn, look at me.”
He turns to stare down at me, cupping my jaw tenderly in his warm, powerful hands and an ache forms in the center of my chest. Suddenly the distance that grew between us over the last few days disappears and ceases to exist.
“You gave me something today that I will cherish forever. I love you, sweetheart. I fucking love you so much.”
29
Garrett
We made slow, passionate love that night, taking our time to get reacquainted with each other’s bodies and needs. Goddamn, I missed this girl with a ferocity that I didn’t even know existed until I left and came back.
Over the next several weeks, things seemed to fall in place for us. The summer basketball camp ended, and I was back at the university reviewing the lists of our incoming freshman and meeting daily with our coaching staff, including my boss, Head Coach Welby. Preparing for a new season and a new team is always an exciting time, but also takes me away from home more hours than I spent away during the summer.
Thankfully, I know Brooklyn is at home, taking good care of my son. And when I come home in the evenings, she takes care of me, as well. It’s a win-win situation.
In fact, with only a very limited amount of guidance and help from me, Brooklyn planned the entire birthday party for Caleb this past weekend. His fifth birthday was August second, and Brooklyn made sure it was a well-attended, kid and family-friendly event. Lots of balloons, cake, train and car decorations, and a Spiderman impersonator that gave each kid a Spidey-bracelet that would shoot out silly string. My mother had even flown down again for the weekend, but I specifically stated that Penelope was not invited and if she showed up at my mother’s request, both would be booted out.
Thankfully, it was only my mother who arrived, with gifts galore. Caleb was the happiest little boy ever and by the time Brooklyn and I landed in bed last night, we were exhausted but thrilled it all went so well.
“If I haven’t said so already, you’re incredible.” I nuzzle her neck with my lips as I rub her shoulders from behind her. “Everything was perfect today.”
She turns her head to look over her shoulder, smiling and kissing my knuckles. “You’re welcome. I had so much fun. I’ve never planned a five-year-old boy’s birthday party before. It was a new experience, for sure.”
Too tired to start anything I might not be able to finish, I continue to massage her muscles as her body sinks into the mattress, her moans of pleasure sending mix signals to my interested cock.
“I really like your friends.”
“Who? Peyton and Kyler? Yeah, they’re pretty great. I don’t know Kyler very well since he just moved in this summer, but he’s a great guy. Talented artist, that’s for sure.”
My fingers gentle their strokes as I feather them over the sweet curves of her backside, humming as I do.
“Looks like he and Lucas seemed to strike up a pretty passionate conversation. I saw them speaking intently over near the pool shed earlier. It’s great Luc had someone here who he could talk art history with. Lord knows I’m not that person.”
I chuckle, but get no response from Brooklyn, as I angle my neck to see if she’s still awake. Sure enough, she’s fast asleep. My lips caress her neck with a soft kiss as I say goodnight and turn out the lights, a feeling of contentment washing over me like a wave in the ocean.
We woke refreshed this morning after a good night’s sleep and made quick work of getting each other off in the joint shower we shared. Now as I sit in my office reviewing some recruiting reports that just landed on my desk, the image of Brooklyn down on her knees in the shower, water sluicing over her wet hair as she gazed up while she sucked me off, has my dick thickening behind my zipper.
I glance over at my desk clock, wondering if I have time to run home for a quickie during
Caleb’s afternoon nap time. Adjusting my dick in my pants, I’m just about to grab my keys to leave when our team admin, Chey, knocks on the door.
“Coach Parker?” she asks, peeking through the opened doorframe.
“Yes, what’s up, Chey?”
She shuffles her feet together, clicking her heels like she’s Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.
“There’s someone here to see you.” She gives a side-eye glance down the hallway, as if to ensure she wasn’t followed, and then frowns. “A Miss Penelope Slattery.”
Everything in me deflates, including my semi that was hoping to get taken care of over lunch. My distaste must be obvious as Chey pipes in intuitively.
“I can tell her you’re in a meeting or busy at the moment if you’d like.” And then, as if considering whether she should say anything or not, she adds sheepishly, “She wasn’t very nice to me, so I’d be happy to show her the door.”
I choke out a laugh because I’d love to do just that. But I know it’s my fault that Penelope is here because I’ve been ignoring her calls since she left town. She’s left me several messages requesting that I call her back and asking to set up a time for her to see Caleb. She’d specifically asked if she could visit over his birthday.
With how well Caleb has been improving over the summer, I’m not interested in upsetting the apple cart. My boy is becoming more and more independent, finding his voice through his speech app, and increasing his mobility with the help of his walker. In fact, this past month when we went in for his check-up, the doctor gave me the most positive news I’d heard in years.
“Mr. Parker, Caleb is progressing increasingly well. Whatever you’re doing is helping tremendously.”
And in my heart of hearts, I know we owed it all to Brooklyn and her magic.
To screw with that dynamic by adding Penelope into the picture was not something I was about to do. And legally, I didn’t have to. My attorney had assured me of that.
“I appreciate the offer, Chey, that’s very sweet of you. But I owe Penelope a conversation. You can show her in. But give us only ten minutes, please. Then you can barge in here and boot her out.” I give her the wink, wink sign and she leaves with a chuckle.
I exhale a long, exasperated breath, hoping to inhale some patience in the process. “Time to find your balls, pal.”
The click, clack, click of Penelope’s heels echoes down the short, wood-floored hallway and I fix a tight smile on my face as she walks in.
“Now I see why you wanted to work at a university.” Her voice is brittle with jealousy and sarcasm.
I give her the ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ look. She waves a manicured hand behind her. “Your cute little receptionist. Robbing the cradle, if you ask me.”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “Hello to you, too, Penelope. For the record, I didn’t hire Chey, nor am I ‘robbing the cradle’ by doing anything with her.” I use air quotes. “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”
I take a seat behind my desk, watching with guarded interest as Penelope lifts a bony shoulder and takes a tour of my office, which isn’t much. I finally unpacked all my boxes that had been lingering around unopened for over six months, placing my trophies on the shelves, hanging framed pictures of me from my college and pro ball days on the walls, and displaying my signed NBA basketballs and books on the bookcase.
Penelope flutters her fingertips over my Rookie of the Year award and sighs wistfully.
“I remember your rookie year, Garrett. I remember watching you play and thinking to myself, ‘Oh my God, that man is everything I want.’” She tilts her head to the side, looking at me over her shoulder as if I am some pet or trophy she won. “And I got what I wanted.”
“Jesus Christ, Penelope. It was one night. One fuck. If that’s all you ever wanted, that’s pretty pathetic.”
There’s a flash of something cruel and calculating in her eyes and then it’s gone, as she sways her hips, clad in a tight pencil skirt, over to the side of my desk. She leans over to trail a finger along my jawline. I flinch, pulling just out of her reach.
“I was so in love with you, Garrett. I still am. But you’re right. I didn’t get everything I wanted.” She dips her head as if saddened by this fact, then returns her blue-eyed gaze to me, innocently blinking her long, fake lashes. “I gave you a son and you went and married your sweet little barren Becca, who couldn’t give you anything.”
My temper seethes underneath my skin, itching and clawing to get out. Ready to strike her down like an angry lion. But I won’t allow her to provoke me, or get me to react. That’s exactly what she wants me to do.
I clutch the armrests of my chair with my fists, so tight my knuckles turn white. Breathing sharply through my nose, I count to ten, much like I have to do when Caleb pushes my buttons during his meltdowns.
I’m the one about to have a meltdown right now, though. I try to teach my kid to turn the other cheek when he’s provoked. I need to take a dose of my own medicine.
Pushing the chair away, I shoot to my feet and posture myself over her, causing her to lean back against the desk demurely, until a manipulative smile curves at the corners of her mouth.
Realizing I’m giving her exactly what she wants, I step back and cross my arms over my chest, which heaves with pent-up rage.
“If I recall, Penelope, that son you gave me? You gave him up for fucking money, you greedy, whoring bitch.”
She covers her mouth as if I’ve just slapped her. I’ll admit, that was the lowest, harshest thing I could say. Tears well up in her eyes and shame washes over me.
I catch myself before reaching out to comfort her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But you can’t speak ill of my dead wife, Penelope. That’s not fair. She was a really good mom to Caleb, regardless of whether she could bear children or not.”
Penelope straightens her shoulders as if finding her resolve.
“I know she was, Garrett. But she’s gone. And I want to be back in my son’s life. He deserves to know his mother. And I realize, I was so stupid when I signed away my parental rights. But it was only because I knew you and Becca would be good parents to Caleb. You would give him everything I couldn’t. And I did it for his benefit. I didn’t want to confuse him by being a weekend or every other month mother. I stand by that decision. I know you don’t believe me, but I wanted what was best for him at the time.”
I wasn’t born yesterday. After the messy battle we had in court, and finally settling on a ridiculously high payout settlement, I don’t trust one lick of what she’s spewing.
Shaking my head, I snort. “You’re right. I don’t believe you. And while I appreciate the fact that you did him a solid by staying out of his life, I’d like to keep it that way.”
Penelope’s face falls and she is wide-eyed, and panic-stricken. She takes two steps forward, placing her hand right above my heart, which beats erratically as my blood runs cold and my blood pressure rises.
“Garrett, please. I am Caleb’s own mother. He needs me. I want to prove to you that I’ve changed and can be a good mother to our son.”
I remove her hand from my chest, holding it for a moment too long, as her facial expression turns to hope. And then I fling it off me and drop it to her side, then turn her shoulders around toward the door. The open door that I want her to leave through.
“Thanks for stopping by, Penelope. The answer is no. He is doing just fine without you in his life. It would only cause him confusion and could possibly stunt his emotional development, which has been flourishing as of late.”
What I don’t mention is why I believe that’s happening, which has everything to do with Brooklyn. But saying that would only add gasoline to this already raging fire.
Penelope spins around but doesn’t speak. Like a chess game, she’s figuring out her next strategy to achieve checkmate with me.
But she won’t outsmart me.
I’ve played one too many of her games in the past and know when to stand firm.
/> Especially when it comes to my son.
30
Brooklyn
“A wedding invitation came in the mail for you today. It’s on top of the stack on the hall table.”
Garrett enters the bedroom from the bathroom, where he’d just brushed his teeth and threw his clothes in the dirty hamper. He comes toward me, chest bare, wearing nothing but his gray boxer briefs, his package giving shape underneath the cotton material.
He lifts his eyebrows suggestively, noticing where my eyes have drifted. He strokes a palm over his hardening flesh, and I part my lips, my mouth suddenly going very dry.
The bed dips under the weight of his body as he places a knee at the end of the bed, his hand running the length of my leg from my ankle to my shin. I squirm at the touch, because I know what it means, and I like where it’s going.
I’ve been sitting against the headboard, laptop across my legs, reviewing my class schedule for the fall semester that starts next week. I’m both excited and nervous about how this will change the dynamic between Garrett and me. And Caleb.
Just last week, I went with Garrett to attend the private school’s open house in Scottsdale where he’d enrolled Caleb in kindergarten. He asked me to come along to meet with the Principal and teacher, as well as his case manager, therapists and school psychologist to review and add input to his initial Individualized Educational Plan. With all the work we put into Caleb’s learning this past summer he has grown leaps and bounds and is ready to be educated properly.
Which is exactly, it seems, what Garrett has in mind for me right at the moment, as he removes his underwear before prowling up the bed, his taut abs sliding over my legs. He leans on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, running his fingers up and down my legs and between my thighs.
“Whose wedding is it?” he asks casually, keeping up with his torture by sliding a finger under the edge of my panties. He lifts his eyes to me when he finds me wet.