Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2)

by Kimberly Readnour

  Seeing his face as he reflects is dangerous in itself. Jax when he’s neutral is pure beauty. Jax when he’s happy? I need a bucket of water—my hormones are raging.

  We pick up the needed supplies, and when we are in front of the cashier to check out, he reaches for his wallet. I’m half-relieved since money is tight, but the last thing I want to do is pretend this is a date. It’s not. It’s just two old friends making dinner together. The obvious attraction to each other means nothing. Maybe I’m reading too much into it and his gesture is more like a charitable contribution. Shit, I’m a charity case.

  “I got this.” I go to open my purse, but he bats my hands away and slaps his credit card down.

  “Not a chance, Dixie.”

  Okay, maybe more like a date?

  Back inside the truck, I can’t relax. The word date keeps spinning in my mind. I don’t know how I got to this point—sitting in the cab of Jax’s truck and enjoying his company. That’s the problem, though. I’ve always liked his company. But it’s Jax Carrigan, the player. I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce. Not one single guy. And the first person I have over is the guy who broke my heart? I don’t realize I’m rubbing the top of my knee until his hand clamps over mine.

  “Nervous?”

  Yes. “No. Why would I be nervous?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know. It’s the first time since the divorce I’ve been alone with a man.” I glance at Jax and internally cringe from his slow developing grin. Nothing like admitting how pathetic you really are.

  “I’ll be more than happy to keep you company.”

  Sweet Jesus, I need to protect my heart from wanting more.

  We turn down the corner of my street, and the excitement crashes to anger as soon as the black Mercedes sitting in my driveway comes into view. For the first time since Carl has taken the kids, I haven’t once checked my phone. Bad mother feelings wash over me, but damn it, he’s supposed to have the kids today. Unless one of them is ill.

  Jax notices my change in posture. “Hey, why the sudden—” he stops as soon as he notices Carl’s car.

  “Just park along the street.” My voice comes out low and precise but with a slight hint of panic. I dig in my purse for my phone.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I check my screen, and sure enough, there’s a message. “Bringing kids back. Have an appointment.”

  At least no one’s sick. I shake my head as anger replaces the worry. “Damn it.” I glance at Jax. “Sorry, I don’t want to sound like a horrible mother, but he does this all the time. He hardly ever keeps the kids the entire weekend.”

  Jax’s eyebrows shoot up. He opens his mouth to say something, but he must think better of it because he doesn’t say a word.

  As soon as Jax parks his truck, I don’t wait for him to open my door, but he’s quickly by my side. Carl’s outside his car leaning against the back quarter panel with his arms crossed. He doesn’t bother to hide his scowl, which further pisses me off.

  At our approach, Carl’s eyes narrow as they flick to Jax. The tick of his jaw muscle makes an appearance. He has no right to be upset with whoever I bring home.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Carl glares at Jax, but I’m not sure he’s the intended recipient of the question. Regardless, he needs to dial down his hostility toward Jax, considering Jax engulfs him. Not only in height, but in physique, too. One punch from Jax would send Carl into Ms. Neely’s yard.

  Jax doesn’t say a word, but I swear I can feel the heat coming off them in waves as they stare each other down.

  Chapter Eleven

  JAX

  Current Day

  I can’t stand this bastard. After what Jocelyn told me about him not taking her anywhere, I want to pummel him. Jocelyn was destined to soar, and he clipped her wings. It’s taking everything I have to keep my anger in check. The bastard was with her for years. He surely knew about her desire to travel.

  His question goes unanswered, in part because I have no idea who he directed it to. If it’s me, there’s no way in hell he wants me to speak. What I have to say wouldn’t go over well. Especially with her kids in the car.

  “What do you mean appointment? This is your weekend for the kids. Ya know, they look forward to spending time with you.”

  He pulls his gaze from me and shrugs. “I told you, I have a previous commitment.”

  “I’m sure it’s really important,” she scoffs and pushes past him. As soon as she sees her kids, her expression morphs into a smile. And I’m not talking a fake one, but it’s actually genuine looking. It’s almost scary how she can switch like that. She opens the back door and bends down. “Who’s ready to go spend an awesome night with Mommy?”

  A little boy yells, “Me,” but the little girl jumps out the car and plows through both parents, stalking straight to the door. For a little thing, she’s awful expressive, and right now, she’s not happy. Jocelyn bends down and takes a smaller kid out of a car seat.

  “Do you need help?” I ask while her ex goes to the trunk.

  “If you want to grab the groceries, I’ll take care of the kids.” The half pint smiles at me with her big amber eyes and dark ringlet hair. She’s adorable, even though she bears a striking resemblance to Carl, minus the hair color, of course.

  “Who are you?” the little boy asks.

  “This is Jax. He’s a baseball player for the Phillies.”

  “Like Zoe’s daddy?”

  “Yeah. Nice to meet you.” I extend my fist.

  “Cool.” He fist bumps me and then runs to the door.

  “Zoe and the twins were close friends before she moved.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  The trunk slams shut, prompting me toward the truck. I grab the grocery bags, along with the dessert, and raised voices carry to the curb. By the time I reach the front door, their argument wanes, but I’m unsure what to do. Fuck it, I walk in as if I own the place. Carl doesn’t know this is my first time being here.

  “I’ll just put these in the kitchen,” I say, toeing off my shoes like I’m in for the evening. The muscle in Carl’s jaw ticks as he eyes my actions. The guy really hates me. Or hates anyone around Jocelyn. Sorry, loser, you fucked up. Even though I know how that feels, I get another shot at redemption. One I won’t take lightly.

  “Just remember, I’ll be working from now on, so you’ll have to make sure your appointments don’t conflict with the kids’ time.” She backs away and hollers out to her children, “Come say bye to Daddy.”

  The littlest one, resting on Jocelyn’s hip, gives a small wave. The boy runs and gives his dad a quick side hug, and sprints away. The girl, however, starts to cry.

  “I love you, Daddy. I don’t want you to go.”

  “Be a big girl. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

  He does hug her, but her body racks with sobs. It’s rather grueling to witness. I don’t understand how he can dump his kids off when they so desperately want to be with him. Damn, how Jocelyn got with this prick in the first place is beyond me.

  “Let me get their stuff put away and settled, and I’ll be back down.” She hesitates as she looks at the grocery bags. “If you don’t want to stay, I understand.”

  If she thinks I’m leaving now, she’s half crazy. Three strides and I’m next to her, careful not to make a show in front of the children. I nestle close to her ear and lower my voice. “I’m not going anywhere. I finally got right where I want to be, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  Her breath hitches as she swallows. “I’ll be right back.” She steps out of the kitchen. “Come on, kids, let’s get these clothes put away.”

  I’ve removed the food from the bags by the time she comes back in. “How are they doing?”

  “They’re okay. As you can probably tell, Trenna has a hard time not being with her dad. She’s always been a daddy’s girl. She’s not old enough to know what type of prick he really is.” She grabs a pan and pl
aces it on the stove. “Melanie’s too young to understand, and Tristan, he’s Tristan. That kid adapts to anything.” She turns on the burner and dribbles olive oil into the pan. Then, she opens a cabinet and pulls out the cutting board.

  “Here, I’ll slice the chicken.” I grab a knife, not knowing what to say about the kids. That’s one area I have no experience with. Never wanted to. I’m an only child, so there aren’t any nieces or nephews to learn from.

  She hands me the cutting board and then starts boiling the water for the pasta.

  “Excited about your job?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I am. I would’ve preferred something closer, but I’m glad to have found work.”

  It pains me that she has to be in this situation. She has a B.S. degree from Penn State for Christ’s sake. “Maybe something will open up soon. But if it’s any consolation, you’ll do great at that bakery. You really are a good cook.”

  She smiles and turns to measure out the cream. The blush sweeping her face is warm and inviting. Like those damn lips that make me want to kiss her. I turn back to the cutting board and concentrate on the food.

  It doesn’t take long before we’re sitting around the table getting ready to eat.

  “What is this?” Trenna asks, scrunching her nose.

  “It’s chicken Alfredo, give it a try.”

  “It looks and smells delicious.” I may be trying to help, but it’s not a lie. The food does look awesome.

  “If Daddy were here, we wouldn’t have these icky meals.” She shoves her plate away.

  Tristan has no problem diving in.

  “Sweetie, I have some plain pasta for you, if you’d rather have that.”

  Trenna sets her jaw tight and gives a quick nod.

  “I miss when Daddy eats with us,” Trenna’s eyes gloss over, which, admittedly, is a little gut-wrenching.

  “I know you do, but he had an appointment tonight.” Jocelyn looks over the top of her wineglass at me and gives an apologetic smile. I shrug it off. Clearly, the little girl misses her dad. The stupid fucker should want to spend time with his kids. I may never be a father, but if I were, I wouldn’t ignore them.

  “Oh, we have dessert tonight.”

  Both kids holler in approval, but when Jocelyn places Trenna’s piece in front of her, all enthusiasm dies.

  “What’s this?” the smallest food critic on the planet asks.

  “It’s biskvitena. A Bulgarian dessert. Did you know that Jax here is part Bulgarian?”

  “Daddy likes apple pie. He says it’s American favorite ’sert. Not this buldgegian.”

  “Bulgarian, sweetheart.” Jocelyn mouths sorry at me.

  Trenna shoves it away, too. I glance over at Tristan, who just shrugs and piles in a big forkful.

  “Mmm, Trenna, try it. It’s good.” He scoops another large portion while Melanie digs into the cream and giggles as she licks her fingers.

  We continue to eat, and I sneak a side glance at Trenna, who’s eying her brother. A moment later, curiosity must get the better of her. She shoves a finger into the whipped cream. She looks to see if Jocelyn is watching before sticking her finger in her mouth. Her eyes widen when she discovers the taste, and I hide my chuckle when she drags the plate closer to her and starts nibbling on small pieces. Small victory but it feels like I won a battle.

  After Jocelyn puts the kids to bed, she comes back into the kitchen. The stress of the evening is apparent on her face.

  “Wow, you cleaned up?” She shoots me an appreciative glance.

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “I’ll have to keep you around.” She pauses and shakes her head at the way her words come out.

  “Don’t worry, Dixie. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

  A small smile ghosts her lips as I pour us each another glass of wine. I motion toward the living room. “You’re good with them.”

  She moans. “Thanks. They’re good kids usually, but I can’t wait until Trenna grows out of this phase. It’s days like this I just want to punch that son of a bitch.”

  Me too, but I don’t voice it. I should go easier on the guy. If he hadn’t have done what he did, I wouldn’t be sitting here. My plans for making Jocelyn go out with me tomorrow are shot, but I know a place I can take them all to. The ball in my stomach tightens at the unwelcome memories. I’ve barely been there since my parents’ deaths. I hate going because the memories are another reminder of how alone I really am, but I think they all need this.

  “I don’t know if I’m doing everything right or not. It seems like all Carl and I do is argue, and I don’t want the kids to see that.” Her eyes start to glisten.

  “Hey, come here.”

  She leans against my chest, and I drape my arm around her shoulders. Damn, if she doesn’t feel good next to me.

  “I think you’re doing an excellent job with those kids. Don’t for one second feel bad because you want to cock punch him. He deserves it.”

  She laughs. “I miss the old me, ya know. When I wasn’t so angry.”

  “This grown-up life sucks.”

  “It really does.” Silence stretches on for a few more minutes as I bask in the feel of her against me. Her fingers subconsciously trace circles around my abs.

  “Up for a drive tomorrow?”

  “I have the kids. As you can tell, they’re a handful.” She lowers her voice. “Part of the reason my ex doesn’t want to deal with them.”

  “I meant everyone.”

  “All of us? I-I don’t know.”

  “Come on.” I nudge her shoulder. “I know of a place I think the kids will enjoy.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Ah, it’s a surprise.”

  “Come on, I have three kids to get ready. No way will I agree to this without knowing what we’re doing.”

  “Okay, you win. Dress for the outdoors. I want to take the kids out of the city for a while.”

  Her face softens. “You’d do that?”

  “Yeah, I know a place I think they’d like.”

  “Okay.”

  “You agree?” She caved quicker than I thought.

  “Yeah, they deserve to have fun.”

  “Okay, then.” I let her think she’s doing it for the kids, but she’s not fooling me. I’m starting to break her down.

  I hold her for a few more minutes while we enjoy the rest of the wine. I like this. Just being together. For the first time in a long time, I’m content. Before it gets too late, I move to leave. I need to get out of here before I do something to fuck it up.

  She follows me to the door, and when I step into the cool air, my throat is so tight I can barely breathe. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Kennedy.”

  “Tomorrow.” She lingers a bit, both of us unsure what to do. I want to kiss her, but it’s too early for that. I turn, and it’s not until I’m tucked away safe in the cab of my truck before I take a deep breath. What are you doing to me, Dixie, my personal kryptonite?

  Chapter Twelve

  JOCELYN

  Current Day

  The harmonizing sound of the twins’ laughter warms my chest while the clean, crisp air breathes fresh life into me. The twins run the vastness of the yard and fight each other with tree-branch lightsabers. Melanie’s wedged between Jax and me, enjoying the rhythmic movement of the wooden porch swing. The setting—an old two-story farmhouse tucked away in a field surrounded by trees—mirrors my grandma’s house. Even though I’m content, a piece of me wants to cry; I miss Grammie so much.

  “I think the kids have crossed to the dark side.” Jax’s deep voice cuts through the late afternoon air.

  “I think you’re right. Ever since I let them watch The Force Awakens, Tristan has been obsessed.”

  “Should we take them to see the latest movie?”

  “Are you crazy?” I half-laugh. “I may take them to see the last one. They’ll be another year older then, but I can’t handle them now.”

  “He seems to really like it, though.”
>
  “It will be on DVD before too long.” I stifle a smile. I think I’ve smiled more these past few days than I have all year. But, damn, he wants to take my kids to a movie. The swing sways lazily while time stretches on. I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed in ages either. “I had no idea this is where you grew up.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes skim across the property, and he nudges his head to the right. “Over in that field there, I had a makeshift ball diamond. Lots of practice games with friends.”

  “Do you get out here often?” It’s a couple hours’ drive from Brooklyn but almost four hours from Philadelphia.

  “Not too much. I have someone to look over the property for me. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it yet.” He shrugs. “I can’t bring myself to sell it.”

  “That’s a tough decision to make.” I want to ask if he ever considers moving here, but that would lead to him envisioning a family. The thought alone tightens my chest. Futuristic wife and kids only highlight the temporariness of any relationship we can have. A fact I’m not willing to think about yet.

  “I never asked. Do you live right in Philadelphia?” There is so much we have to learn about each other.

  “Yeah, it’s convenient for now.” The makeshift baseball field draws his attention. “I hardly get out here anymore.”

  Melanie yawns and leans next to Jax, which earns a soft smile from him. Overwhelming emotion smacks into me with the force of a stinger ball. But this isn’t an imaginary dodgeball game. It’s hardcore life. I swallow past the lump in my throat while my eyelids blink back the developing moisture. I’ll never know what would’ve happened had we stayed together or what our children would’ve been like. I’ll never ask for a redo because I love my children. They’re mine. But, yeah, the could have beens are a bitch. “Thanks for bringing the kids here. It’s exactly what they need.”