I couldn’t listen to her bullshit anymore. I would take matters into my own hands whether Jules liked it or not.
She started to stand, and I went to lift her. “No, my crutches, please.”
“Ugh, you’re going to be a stubborn one with this.”
“Drew, let me be.”
She held on to the banister and hoisted herself upstairs, and stood outside the guest room. I cracked the door open for her, and she leaned against the jamb and peeked in on our daughter.
“Did you have a good night?”
“The best.” I kissed behind her ear, pulling her hair away.
“She looks happy, even in her sleep.”
“She’ll be happier now that she has more time with you.”
That got me an eye roll before she hobbled down the hall on her crutches to the master bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jules rolled her shoulders and took off her solo clog. I came close and lifted her shirt above her head, taking my time, inhaling her hair and holding her close.
“I need a shower. Do you think you could hold me up in there on one foot?”
“I thought you would never ask.”
“Not now, Drew. Not now. I’m exhausted, and I want to get to bed.”
“Just lean on me, babe. Tonight, tomorrow, forever. That’s all I want.”
Jules
I sat up in the bed made for a king, leaning back into a mountain of pillows—big ones, little ones, satin ones, patchwork ones—and put my foot up on a huge stack at the foot of the bed meant for that exact purpose.
I watched Drew walking back into his—our—room.
Within two days of my foot being broken, he’d had a gang of twelve packing, moving, and unpacking our stuff. There wasn’t much, so I didn’t think that many people were necessary, but they also assembled Darla’s new furniture and painted her room.
Silver and pink, exactly like she wanted.
Oh, and then there was the mounting of a turtle habitat near the balcony door.
Mikey Oliver, our new turtle, lived in there. Yes, that was his full name. Calliope Kitty, our new cat, made herself comfortable wherever she saw fit. At the moment, she was burrowed next to the pillow where my foot rested.
Within two weeks, Drew’s bachelor pad had turned into a family home/petting zoo. There was talk of a rural house in the Midwest and a pony. I couldn’t even think about it.
Basically, Drew was a yes machine when it came to Darla, and since I was currently a helpless gimp, I allowed my daughter to become the most spoiled little girl on the planet, giving Drew carte blanche to undo everything I’d done.
My pride was only slightly bruised. After all, I’d denied her this exact thing for the first six years of her life, so it wasn’t my place to keep it from her anymore.
I owed her this—him. She deserved Drew and all that he could provide, mostly the love and adoration he gave easily and without measure.
Drew sat down next to me. “Hey.”
His hair was a little longer and falling forward on his face. I couldn’t help myself; I reached up and ran my hand through it.
“This is for you.” He handed me a glass of wine.
“How’s Dar? Did she want me to hobble in there? Say good night?” I started to push up from my resting place, wineglass in hand. It wasn’t pretty.
“Whoa, hold your horses, Italian stallion. She was out before I finished the chapter, and no. She said to give you this.” He kissed me on the cheek, letting his lips linger a bit longer, prickling my skin and making my heart beat faster.
“I guess I’ve officially been ousted between you and the foot. Did you just use a Rocky reference? Because I could beat you over the head with my crutch.”
“You’re beautiful like his wife, but tough like Rocky. That’s my Hurricane Jules.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped my wine. “You don’t have to seduce me anymore. You’ve got me all locked up in your castle, and our daughter is so smitten with you, she’s forgotten all about me.”
“Nah, I’m just the bright new shiny object, babe. You’re her whole world. She’s always telling me Mommy this and Mommy says that. You brought her into this world; you’ll always be number one.”
“Tell that to her when she gets her first period.”
“Shhh, I can’t even think about that shit right now. God, no boyfriends, by the way. None.”
I took another sip of my wine and let it course through my system, calming my frazzled nerves. Drew’s mom was coming to visit soon, and Darla’s teacher kept asking when we were getting married.
Between all of that and not working, my emotions were fried. I needed something more, but I wasn’t sure what.
“Hey, you’re zoning out. What’s that smile for?” Drew asked me while running his hand up and down my thigh.
“I was just thinking how bored I was, but also how lucky I am because I have the luxury of picking what I want to do with my life now.” Tears pricked at the back of my eyes.
“I wish you’d been able to do that from day one. I hate that you had to do what you did for so long, but the result was outstanding. Look what a fabulous young girl you raised. Our daughter.”
“I hope that one day she gets to do whatever she wants.”
His hand stilled on my leg, and he said, “Take a drink.”
So I did. He seemed pretty determined and bossy.
“What was that . . . take a drink . . . all about?”
“We were drinking to Darla doing whatever she wants. I know she will. I can see it in her eyes. Her determination.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. I didn’t want my life for my daughter. I wanted better, and somehow Drew inherently knew this.
“Also this. I got you something.”
He slipped his hand into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a shiny bauble. When he straightened it out, a very large J hung from a sparkling chain.
“Lean forward,” he said softly.
He slid his hands around my neck and placed a diamond J on my chest. Of course, the chain sparkled because it was studded with black and white diamonds in tiny bezels.
“This is too much. What do I need this for? All I’m doing is lying in bed.”
“Be quiet, Jules, and let me look at how beautiful you are.”
“I love you, King.”
“I know. Now, drink your wine and relax and hush.”
“If I relax any more, I’ll turn into a veal.”
“You’re a vegetarian. You can’t.”
We both laughed until Drew leaned in and kissed me, sweeping his tongue through my mouth.
“Actually, why don’t we put the wine down . . .” He took the glass from me and set it on the night table, and leaned back again and covered my mouth with his. “You taste good. Bet you taste even better somewhere else.”
His mouth traveled down my neck, pushing the J aside, skimming at the neckline of my sheer long-sleeved tee. He traced the trim with his tongue until a moan erupted from his chest. The tip of his tongue caressed my skin, starting a fever prickling below the surface.
“Stay right there.” He popped up and went to lock the door.
“I can’t exactly go anywhere.”
“I kind of like it. You stuck in our bed.”
He slipped out of his workout shorts and tossed his tee on the floor, then walked back toward me. At the end of the bed, he stood there in all his glory, naked and lean. Tattoos and tanned skin, more crinkles around his eyes and smoother hands than when we first met, and I never loved anyone so hard. Leaning down, he divested me of the big freaking boot and carefully removed my lounge pants.
“Leave it off,” I said about the boot.
“Don’t squirm then.” He winked.
Climbing up beside me, he peppered kisses on my ear, sucked on the lobe and down my clavicle, then pulled off my shirt and slid his mouth along my side cleavage.
His breath hummed over my bra until he shoved the straps down and took my nipple in
his mouth. Nipping and sucking, he took his time, my bra still shoved down.
“Jules,” he moaned breathlessly.
“Please,” I said in return.
He slid down my body until his mouth covered my hot spot, no longer nipping but taking his time. Lavishly. That’s what I would call it.
Lavishly devoting himself to me.
It didn’t take long for me to come undone. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on my brow, caused by the pulsing between my legs and trying to keep my foot still.
“I want you.”
“You need to let me do all the work. You know the routine.”
“I can’t help it if my hips move.” I smiled before he kissed me, tasting like me. It felt like more than love.
With his hand, he guided himself into me, one thrust, long and leisurely. He pulled back out, taking his time, and dived back in. That’s what he did until I couldn’t take it anymore, and let my hips come up and meet his thrusts.
“Jules . . .” This time he growled my name.
“It feels good. Let me.”
And he did, driving into me as I met each thrust until we were both spent and satisfied.
“You going to marry me, Jules?”
We lay there, my head on his chest and his lips pressing soft kisses to the top of my head.
“What am I going to do with you, King Drew?”
“Now who’s the corny one? Marry me. Don’t make me beg.” His hand caressed my side, his finger lingering on my breast, circling my sensitive area. Rinse and repeat.
“We’re together. That’s what matters.”
“I want to get married soon, Jules. Soon. Don’t forget.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my everything. And why the hell not? I don’t want to get corny or crazy romantic; I know that bugs you. But I want you to know you’re mine.”
“Now, you shhh. You’re going to piss me off.”
“Bet I can really piss you off . . .”
“What?” I squeezed my eyes shut but smiled.
“I bought Darla a D necklace.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“She’s already wearing it, so we can’t return it.”
“Tell me it wasn’t diamonds.”
“It wasn’t.”
I closed my eyes again, this time drifting off.
“It has yellow diamonds for my tennis superstar.”
I pretended to be asleep.
The following night wasn’t any better when it came to Drew making it known what he wanted. We went out for Italian with Sully and Rosie, and they insisted we bring Darla. Their kids were too busy for them, and Darla flirted like a pro with Sully.
“Uncle Sull, can you tell me again about your boat? Are we going to go on it soon? Will we see dolphins?”
“I can’t believe I let her call him Uncle Sull after what he did to me the first time I met him,” I said to Rosie.
“We didn’t meet then,” Sully said, and when I eyed him up, he changed his story. “Okay, I was acting like an arrogant jerk. It was men’s night out. Blame the cigars and the whiskey.”
“Sullivan, one more bad report about you and I’m leaving you for a tennis pro. Like Drew, young, virile, muscular,” Rose interjected.
I blushed. Drew was certainly virile.
“He’s not a pro,” Sully argued, his manhood under attack.
“He’s my teacher, Uncle Sull. That makes him a pro.”
“And he was your mom’s—”
“Sull, no need to go there,” Drew said quickly.
We figured when the time was right we would tell Darla the truth about how we met, and where and when she was conceived. More importantly, someday she deserved to know why her dad wasn’t in her life for the first six years.
“Speaking of calling you Uncle Sull,” Drew piped up. “We should make it official, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean, Daddy?”
I took a swig of wine and glanced at my foot in the boot stretched out to the side.
“Well, it’s like in tennis when it’s tied. Forty all. Your mom and I are at deuce, ad in. My ad. I have you, so that’s my advantage, but I want her too. Then I win.”
If smoke could have poured out of my ears and eyes, it would have.
“Dar, Dad wants to make it official. We have you and we live together, and that’s enough. Whether we’re married or not doesn’t make us love you or each other any less.”
“What’s the hang-up?” Sully asked. Freaking Sully. “And yes, Darla, we’ll see lots of stuff on my boat, and even fish.”
“No, no fishing. I don’t eat fish. Mom wants me to, but I said no.”
The conversation was giving me whiplash, but this was my life now. Loving Drew, curious Darla, boisterous Sully, and caring Rosie. A crazy crew, for sure, but the first family and friends I’d had in a long time.
However, now I wished I could kick Drew under the table with my boot.
I didn’t really know what my hang-up was. I suspected it was my mom and her unhealthy attachment to my dad. She was so obsessed with him and his ghost that she could hardly find it in her heart to love me. I guessed she did on her own terms, but still . . . marriage seemed unnecessary at this point.
“No hang-up,” I explained. “Just not needed. And you know Drew always has to get what he wants, but this time, he’s not.”
“We’ll see about that,” my man countered.
Problem was, I was pretty certain we would.
“I want to get married,” Darla added. “To Dad.”
It’s like they were playing doubles and I was still playing singles.
Ad out.
Drew
Five weeks had passed since Jules broke her foot, and she was allowing me to take her to her final X-ray appointment. I was fucking grateful.
It had been a long few weeks—thirty-five days that didn’t involve me beating the shit out of Bryce—but I got Jules and Darla instead. She drove a hard bargain, that woman. In exchange for my promise to leave the situation up to her, she agreed to move in right away.
I was a reasonable man, but this deal was as painful as getting a prostate exam. There wasn’t a day I didn’t want to call Russ and set something up to “take care” of Bryce. But Sully kept me on the straight and narrow. Mostly because Rosie fell in love with Jules, and threatened him to make sure I behaved.
“Excited to dump the boot?” I asked Jules as I drove her to her appointment.
“Yes, and then you can call off those caterers for Thanksgiving.”
“No can do, babe. I already paid.”
I hadn’t, but fuck it. She wasn’t going to stand there cooking all day for our mothers.
“But your mom—”
“My mom hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in decades, and your mom doesn’t deserve you going all out. We’re doing it for Darla. End of discussion.”
“I’m making dinner the night before, and dessert for Thanksgiving Day.”
“Only if I can eat it off your naked body after Darla goes to sleep.” This got me a big smile.
“Not to ruin the good mood, but you should know he’s gone. I spoke to the other manager at the Southern, and Bryce left town. Took a job with a new Italian franchise in Orlando.”
“Not far enough.”
“Well, he’s gone and my foot is healed, and we’re living with you. What else do you want?”
“You to marry me.”
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“I’d say more like hobbled.”
She just shook her head and smiled while facing the window, thinking I couldn’t see.
“You’re going to give in eventually,” I said while helping her out of the car with her crutches.
“Why? We already have a child and live together. If we get married, the girls from years ago . . . may find out.”
“So the fuck what.”
“Let’s just go to my appointment, okay?”
Another week had passed
and Jules was gearing up for both of our moms to come visit. Her mom hadn’t seen Darla in at least two years, and my mom didn’t even know she had a grandchild until a month ago.
To say Jules was tense would be the understatement of the year. The only time I’d seen her take a deep breath was when I said, “My mom is staying at the Boca Beach Club. This isn’t fancy enough for her, plus she needs maid service.”
Mom was single at the moment, and I was certain she’d be spending her free time searching for husband number four.
Other than hanging with Darla, Jules had holed up in the kitchen, cooking and baking and cooking some more. Apparently, making a mess provided her some sort of tension relief.
“I’m home,” I called as I walked into the house after I slipped out of work around three.
“Hey,” Jules said, out of breath and breathtaking in the kitchen. She wore tight-as-hell yoga pants and a long tank, an apron tied tight at the waist, and her hair up in her famous messy bun.
“Dar home yet?”
“She’s going to Sydney’s house today to play and have dinner, remember? She was going to go tomorrow, but you scheduled a tennis lesson.”
“Right.” Truthfully, I wanted Darla home all the time. Fuck playdates. Better she be with me, but Jules said it was important.
And now I was thinking she was on to something, because she was looking sexy as fuck in our kitchen and we had hours to ourselves.
“Here, taste this.” Jules shoved a bite of muffin in my mouth.
I literally moaned. “This is good, better than good. What is it?”
“Zucchini and chocolate with a caramel ribbon.”
“Babe, you’re making food porn in here. Hope you’re not trying to make me fat.”
“Stop. Between you and your elliptical, you’ll never be fat. Plus, I love cooking, being at peace in the kitchen. It’s quiet and settling, so you’ll have to deal with the calories.”
“Give me some more,” I demanded, and she did.
“You know, last Friday I brought some of those carrot cookies with the cream cheese icing when I picked up Dar from her playdate? The mom went wild for them. She asked what else I do, and I told her I cook and bake all vegetarian.”
Break Point Page 18