by Morgan James
I stiffened at the statement, unsure as to where he was going, and I responded cautiously. “We can talk now if you’d like.”
Seeming almost hesitant, he withdrew a sheaf of papers from his back pocket and handed them over. Before my fingers even touched the heavy envelope, I knew what it was. Xander cleared his throat, avoiding me.
I ran a fingertip over the edge of the envelope. “Have you signed yet?”
“Not yet.” He shook his head, then turned to face me. “I have a proposition for you.”
My breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat as his intense gaze captured mine. God, when he looked at me like that, it was as if time had slipped away. I remembered how charming and funny he’d been the night we first met.
“I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want.”
I sat frozen, digesting his words, trying to shake off the memory. What the hell did that mean?
As if reading my mind, he continued, “I’ll grant you the annulment if you still want it. But I want time with Alexia.”
My vision turned hazy and my heart raced, my entire body going completely lax. Thank God I was sitting, otherwise I probably would’ve collapsed in a very undignified heap on the floor. My mind couldn’t quite comprehend what he was saying. Did he want custody? Of course he would. He had every right to her, I knew he did, but... How could I give up my little girl, even for a few days here and there? I’d been the only person in Alexia’s life for the past eleven months, not including, of course, Darlene and the ladies from the salon who watched her now and then. I’d rocked her to sleep, comforted her when she cried, held her hand as she’d learned to stand and then walk. Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself shaking my head. “I...”
Xander’s eyes turned cold. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Lydia. You won’t keep my daughter from me anymore.”
I pressed a hand to my chest, my lungs and heart aching so badly that it hurt to breathe. I finally forced words up and out of my throat. “I just... She’s my baby—”
“Don’t give me that shit,” he hissed. He pointed at the little girl playing with a stuffed lamb. “Do you even understand how I feel? Do you know what you’ve taken from me? You’ve deprived me of a year, Lydia. A whole fucking year of my daughter’s life. I missed everything.”
His voice got louder and louder, and I stretched out a hand, laying it on his arm. “Please, keep your voice down.
Alexia turned, as if sensing the discord between us. She climbed to her feet and toddled toward us. It was like a knife to my heart to see my baby girl head straight for Xander, and hot tears clouded my eyes.
Xander’s attention was fixed firmly on me. “I want to spend time with her; I want to be involved.”
“Xander...”
“Damn it, Lydia.” Fury filled his eyes and he jumped to his feet. “She’s my daughter too and—”
His words were drowned out by the high-pitched cry that split the air as Alexia burst into tears. Throwing herself at me, she turned her face into my shoulder, sobs wracking her tiny body.
A mixture of horror and guilt flooded his expression, and Xander reached out to soothe her. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”
Alexia peered up at him but flinched, looking away again with a whimper as he reached out and gently stroked her back.
“Shh.” I shushed Alexia, rubbing a hand over her back in soothing circles. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Xander...” My gaze darted to him, and I bit my lip before correcting myself. “Daddy didn’t mean to yell.”
He stiffened at the word, every line of his body going completely taut.
“I’m sorry.” I shot him an apologetic look as he dropped his arm to his side. “She’s not used to men. Maybe we should table this discussion for another day.”
After what seemed like a long internal debate, he finally relented. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I held Alexia close and allowed my tears to finally break free as the door slammed behind him. Maybe this time he’d stay away for good. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I regretted it.
“Mama’s here, baby,” I crooned to Alexia. “I’ll always be here for you.”
As I held my baby close, I realized it was the only certainty in life. Regardless of what happened with Xander, I wouldn’t let anyone disappoint us—and I especially wouldn’t let anyone hurt Alexia. It was me and her against the world. And I was just fine with that.
Chapter Twenty
Xander
“You here for good, McLean?”
I paused, turning my attention away from the box I’d been unpacking to Con, who leaned against the edge of my desk. “Sure.”
I originally hadn’t been scheduled to start until next week, but I needed something to take my mind off the situation with Lydia.
“Thank fuck.” He pulled a chair closer, then sank down and propped his feet on the edge of my desk.
I lifted one brow. “Make yourself at home.”
Turning my attention back to the box in front of me, I continued to unload its meager contents. A few books, a picture from when I’d been in the Army. I held the frame in my hands, not really seeing the picture inside.
It still hadn’t fully sunk in that I had a daughter—a tiny little girl who looked just like me. If things had been different, would I be holding a picture of her right now instead? Would I see her precious little face staring back at me from the corner of my desk instead of my brothers? Better, even, would Lydia and I be in the frame as well, like a real family?
My family.
The words settled in my heart, dissolving some of the anger that still resided there. Nearly two years ago, Lydia and I had shared a wild night of intense passion and chemistry like I’d never known. Now we shared more than desire—we had a child together.
The memory of our night together had kept me sane and driven me to distraction in equal measure while I was away. I’d been terrified those couple times when she’d attempted to reach out to me. I thought maybe she’d moved on, found someone else. But the fact that she hadn’t spoke volumes. And the paperwork for the dissolution being filed incorrectly? It had to mean something. In my estimation, all of these things had happened for a reason—Lydia and I were supposed to be together.
How did the expression go? Absence made the heart grow fonder? I’d felt something for her the night we first met—it was the whole reason I married her. I’d always been the staid, straitlaced one who never made one impulsive decision in my life. Yet, in that moment, I’d known it was right. Even just a few nights ago in the restaurant, lust had hit me like an uppercut to the chin. I still felt like it was right—but would I be able to convince her of that? Especially after yesterday. I’d lost my temper again, damn it, and it may have cost me both of them.
Con cleared his throat. “We’ve got a meeting in fifteen. Working a case in conjunction with Dallas PD.”
Pushing the melancholy thoughts from my mind, I turned my attention back to my boss. “Go.”
I listened intently as he briefed me on the situation. Over the past few weeks, a rash of burglaries had happened across the city. Reports had come from both wealthy residents and independently owned stores.
“Unfortunately,” Con continued, “the only thing each victim has in common is that their security is lacking, if they even have it. A small jewelry store was broken into last week, but the perpetrator bypassed the security system so it never alerted the authorities.”
My brows lifted at that news. That was pretty difficult to manage in this day and age. “And there are no common denominators?”
“Nothing that the PD or Jason have been able to find so far.”
I would’ve suspected that the person responsible knew the places that he’d broken into. More than likely, he either knew the owner or spent a good deal of time there. “Ex-employee?”
“PD has cross-referenced employees from the stores and checked into relatives of the homeowners.
No matches.”
Damn. “So what the hell are they doing with everything?”
I assumed this was more than a one-man operation, judging from the amount of work it took to accomplish something of this magnitude. Fenced items were much harder to get rid of than anyone realized. With technology, there was always a footprint somewhere online or a camera to capture someone’s face.
“So here’s the thing.” Con half-laughed. “One of the victims is Alan Richter. Insanely wealthy, huge pain in the ass.” Sounded about right. I gave a little nod of acknowledgement as Con continued. “A painting was stolen from his residence last week. Ironically, he also owns the jewelry boutique that was broken into.”
“Sounds personal.”
Con tipped his head. “That’s why Richter is out for blood. He’s certain he knows who took his painting.”
I lifted a brow. “And that would be?”
“Oliver Eldredge. He owns an antiquity shop downtown. Unfortunately”—Con pulled a face—“Dallas PD questioned him and his employees but came up empty.”
“What makes Richter so certain this Eldredge guy is involved?”
Con rolled his eyes. “An old feud, apparently. But, according to Phelps over at the seventh precinct, Eldredge was forthcoming and more than willing to help. Even offered to show them his home and warehouse where he keeps overflow.”
Interesting. “They’ve checked all the local shops?”
Con nodded. “PD spoke with all local pawn shops, art galleries, other antiquities dealers... though they’d be stupid to take any of that stuff.”
I snorted. “I would imagine. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“Exactly.” Con tipped his chin. “Doyle’s been digging around online to see if there’s been any recent mention of the stolen goods.”
“Damn.” That must be like searching for a needle in a haystack. But if anyone could find it, it would probably be Jason.
“Gets better.” The promise in Con’s tone had my ears perking up with interest. “We have a potential suspect. Ever heard of the Marvelous Maids?”
I blinked at him. “What the hell is that?”
A tiny smile quirked his mouth. “Cleaning service. Apparently, the regular cleaner who works for Richter remembers the painting that was stolen. She saw it across town yesterday in another client’s house—Paul Mickelson.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Even I knew of that slimy fucker. His name was on every car dealership from here to El Paso, and he had a reputation to match his smarmy car salesman smile.
“Yep.” Con tipped his chin. “PD interviewed him yesterday. He insisted on being guaranteed immunity for his cooperation.”
I rolled my eyes. That son of a bitch could roll in pig shit and come out smelling like a rose. “Figures.”
“Yep.” Con pushed up from the chair. “I’ll be in the conference room. Meeting starts in five.”
I nodded, my mind floating back to Lydia and Alexia. I’d been a fucking tool yesterday. I owed Lydia an apology for storming out—for the second time—and I needed to find a way to connect with Alexia without scaring the hell out of her again. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I tapped out a message to Lydia asking if I could come over tonight. I had no idea what I was going to do or say, but I had to make things right.
I nodded to the team as I slipped into the conference room and took a seat next to Clay’s twin brother, Cole. “Hey, man.”
He tipped his chin at me as he relaxed into the chair. “You here for good?”
“Just in time for the party, apparently.”
His attention jumped over my shoulder to Abby. “Thanks, beautiful.” He winked at her, and she slapped his upper arm with the manila folder she held.
“That shit won’t work with me.”
He let out a laugh, completely unperturbed, and took the folder. Abby turned to me and held out another file. “Hi, Xander.”
I accepted the folder. “Hey, Abby.”
Cole twisted in his chair, his eyes following the petite brunette. “When you gonna let me take you out, Abs?”
She bared her teeth in a wicked smile. “You gonna make it worth my while?”
He grinned. “Always do.”
“Knock that shit off,” Clay barked from my other side.
I threw a look his way, but he kept his gaze firmly on the file in front of him. Beneath the table, though, his knee jumped anxiously, his hand curling into a fist on his thigh. Interesting.
Jason Doyle set his laptop down, dragging my attention to him. “Everyone ready?”
A low murmur of affirmation rose from the table, and Con nodded for him to begin. “As you all know, a painting recently stolen from Alan Richter’s residence turned up in the home of Paul Mickelson. PD questioned him yesterday, and we finally got a lead.”
That was good news.
“Apparently, the items are being auctioned off each Friday night. They’re invitation only for only the wealthiest customers. New clients are referral only. Mickelson told them all about the process, but he swears he has no idea who’s running them.”
“Fuck.” I leaned back in my chair. “So we’ve got nothing.”
“IP address is different, and the signal gets rerouted all over the damn place. Website changes every week, and an invitation is sent out about an hour prior to the start of the auctions.”
Con spoke up. “Apparently, two items were stolen from Richter’s residence. The painting we know was purchased by Mickelson. But he denies knowing anything about this.” Con pressed a button on the remote and an image filled the screen, an ugly bust of someone that looked to be at least five hundred years old. “Richter is adamant we find it. He believes that Oliver Eldredge has it and plans to move it.”
Con tipped his head my way. “Clay and McLean, you’re on Eldredge. Basic recon. Dig into his background, anything you can find out about him. The PD have already been through the shop, but we’ll need to get eyes on the warehouse, see if anything looks suspicious.”
“I think we need to get into one of these auctions,” Jason stated.
Con nodded. “Agreed.”
He turned his attention to the other guys, and my attention drifted back to my wife and daughter. Alexia was mine, too, and what I’d told Lydia yesterday was true—I wanted to be involved in her upbringing. I replayed Lydia’s reaction in my mind, her hackles rising, claws coming out. She was like a tigress, protective of her cub. I smiled at the image. That was Lydia, all right. Seeing her with the baby had made me want her all the more. She obviously loved our daughter and would do anything for her.
I was still angry with her—who wouldn’t be?—but I couldn’t deny that I still wanted her. It might require a lot of convincing on my part, but I’d just have to show her I meant every word of what I’d said before. I wanted Lydia and the baby, and I wanted to be part of their lives. I needed to make Lydia see that I didn’t want to take the baby away—just the opposite, in fact. We could make this work. She wasn’t going to give in easily, but I was going to win her over—one way or another.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lydia
The doorbell rang, making me jump and causing my heartrate to double. Alexia continued to play on the floor, undisturbed by the sound. Pushing off the couch, I headed toward the front door, dread sitting like a lead ball in my stomach. Even through the narrow, frosted pane of glass in the door, there was no mistaking Xander’s broad form.
Drawing in a fortifying breath, I unlocked the door and pulled it open. Xander stood there, larger than life, his presence dominating my entire front porch. Face unreadable, he silently stepped inside. Without waiting for an invitation, he toed off his boots, then turned to me, holding out a plastic shopping bag of Chinese takeout. A peace offering?
I slipped the handles from his fingers, careful not to touch him. “Thank you.”
My stomach rumbled as the delicious smells wafted up to me. I’d gotten home barely fifteen minutes ago, giving me just enough time to change o
ut of my work clothes and into a pair of comfy sweats and a T-shirt.
Closing the door, I flipped the lock, then gestured down the hallway. Instead of preceding me down the hall, Xander tipped his chin, gesturing for me to go first. I felt his gaze on me the whole way, like he was painting a bull’s-eye on my back, just waiting for me to slip up. So far, nothing I had done was good enough. He hadn’t allowed me to explain myself, had only thought the absolute worst.
Maybe tonight would go better since our previous two encounters had been less than successful—understatement of the year. Tonight he’d brought dinner. The fact that he’d gone out of his way to do something nice amped up my guilt. It was an uncomfortable situation at best, but I was determined to play nice, for Alexia’s sake. If he could come halfway, I could too.
Rounding the corner to the living room, I saw Alexia was still in her spot, eyes glued to the cartoon playing on TV. I set the food on the counter and began to remove the containers.
I felt Xander come up beside me, his huge form moving into my peripheral vision. “You leave her alone like that all the time?”
I bristled at his words. So much for that peace offering. I wanted to speak up in my defense, but instead, I swallowed the words down. I knew he was still angry, but it wouldn’t do either of us any good to feed into it. Be the bigger person, Lydia.
“I was gone for thirty seconds. Besides,” I gestured around the room, “everything’s babyproofed.”
“It only takes a few seconds for them to get into something and get hurt.”
I barely held back a snort. Now he suddenly had a wealth of knowledge about raising kids from some Google search he’d come across in the last two days? Was he out of his damn mind? What the hell did he think I’d been doing for the past year?
“You know, that never occurred to me. You’re absolutely right.” I turned toward him and pasted on a sweet smile, a direct contradiction to the sarcasm flowing from my tongue. “Next time, I guess I just won’t answer the door.”