by Morgan James
Intense blue eyes narrowed on me, and I glared right back. If he thought he could just walk in here and start criticizing my parenting skills, he had another think coming.
I could practically feel the animosity vibrating off his tense body, and my gaze skittered away, back to Alexia. I’d hoped we could at least be civil for her sake, but gauging from the attitude he was carrying around, I didn’t think that was very likely.
Appetite gone, I shoved away from the counter. Brushing him off, I made my way around the couch and settled on the plush cushion. My book still lay on the armrest where I had discarded it when the doorbell rang, and I picked it up and began to read again. For several long moments Xander stood rooted to the floor, and I could feel his angry gaze on me, burning into the back of my head. Finally, with an irritated sound, he entered the living room and settled beside me on the couch. My muscles tensed, acutely aware of him.
Finally noticing his presence, Alexia turned and peered warily at Xander. I watched surreptitiously over the pages of my book as she studied him. The sight sent a little pain of regret shooting through my heart. For both their sakes, I wanted her to be comfortable with him. I wanted Alexia to know her father, and he deserved to know his intelligent, sweet little girl.
With a soft sigh, I set my book aside. Infusing as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible, I directed my words to Alexia. “Why don’t you come see Daddy?” Her eyes flitted to me for a moment before darting back to Xander, and she shook her head emphatically. Next to me, Xander tensed, his hands clenched into fists where they rested on his thighs.
“Don’t take it personally,” I said, gently resting a hand on his forearm. Thick cords of muscle tensed under my touch, and I pulled my hand away, tucking it into my lap. Xander leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. For a long moment, he stared at the ground, then lifted his eyes to Alexia. His voice was quiet when he spoke. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole.” He spread his hands wide. “I don’t have a good excuse. I’m just... lost.”
I knew how that felt. “I understand.”
He watched her for a moment before speaking. “What’s she like?”
“Smart. Too damn smart,” I smiled. “She watches everything and everyone. She loves to play, especially with things she can build.”
A grin cracked his face, transforming him into the handsome man I remembered. “That’s probably my fault. I was always that way, too.”
Alexia continued to play on the floor, intermittently watching whatever was currently on the Disney channel. “She’s always taken after you,” I admitted. “Do you want to see some pictures?”
“Of course.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or just trying to appease me, but he moved closer regardless. I opened up the photo app on my phone and began to scroll. “Just so you know,” I warned him, “I have a lot of pictures.”
I started at the beginning, on the day she was born. Xander slipped the phone from my fingers and enlarged the image, a look of pure awe crossing his face. “She’s changed so much.”
A smile lifted my lips. “I know. It’s gone so fast.” My gaze darted to Alexia, her eyes glued to the TV. What would happen if Xander and I ended up sharing custody? He deserved to spend time with his daughter, but I couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day. “She’s constantly growing and changing. But there’s no denying she got most of your looks with that hair.”
I didn’t mean for the words to come out so sad, but I felt Xander’s gaze on me. “I see a little bit of you in her, too.”
I rolled my eyes but managed a small smile. “Ha. Maybe a drop.”
Xander shook his head. “I mean, she’s pretty much my clone, but...” He laughed when I lightly backhanded his bicep, then sobered. “Seriously. She’s beautiful and vibrant, just like you.”
I felt my face heat as a blush spread up my neck and over my cheeks. Clearing my throat, I deflected his attention from me and back to the pictures on my phone. “Here’s her first bath.”
We sifted through hundreds of photos, dozens of frilly, cute little outfits and fluffy bows. I laughed as I pointed at a picture I’d taken around Christmas. “She was so good, letting me dress her up and change outfits a dozen times. I must have taken a hundred photos that day alone.”
Xander smiled. “I’ll bet.”
Leaning back, he slung one arm over the back of the couch. Curled up on the cushion next to him, it brought me almost within his embrace, and my breath caught in my chest. We weren’t touching, yet an electrical current connected us. I turned my head and found him looking right at me, those cobalt eyes cutting straight to my soul.
Suddenly, it was too much. I needed to put some space between us. “I—I should serve dinner.”
I popped up from the couch, my heart beating a million miles a minute. I was terrified of Xander coming back into our lives and disrupting our peaceful environment. What scared me more than anything, though, was my reaction anytime he got close—and the fact that I wanted more of it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Xander
Lydia hopped to her feet and practically ran to the kitchen, putting a healthy distance between us. Disappointment mingled with relief in my gut as I watched her move away from me. The air between us had been charged with lust, and my fingers still tingled with the need to reach out and touch her.
I curled them into a fist and gazed around the sunny, welcoming living room, taking in the comfortable furniture and décor. Although I’d been here just yesterday, I hadn’t paid much attention to my surroundings. The house was homey and welcoming, trendy without being overdone. There was a faux stone fireplace situated against the far wall, and the couch was large and comfortable, the perfect size for cuddling up with a beautiful woman. Like Lydia.
Before the thought fully solidified in my mind, I heard the front door open then slam shut again. The hell? Someone had a key to Lydia’s place? I threw a glance at Lydia, whose posture had changed dramatically. Because of me, or because of who the hell was here? She hadn’t mentioned a roommate. A friend, maybe? Lydia’s shoulders seemed to jump with each staccato tap of heels echoing in the short hallway as the visitor made her way toward the kitchen.
Still partially obscured by the couch, I watched the woman enter the room. She let out a huff and directed her wrath at Lydia. “I had to park on the street because of the behemoth truck blocking your driveway, and—oh, good Lord, what are you wearing?”
So, not a friend... My brows lifted at the woman’s horrified gaze as it skimmed over Lydia, clad in the black sweats that hugged her ass and skimmed her legs. Not that I’d looked.
Lydia glanced down at herself with a shrug. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“How do you always manage to find the most horrendous things possible?” The woman shook her head as Lydia opened her mouth to respond. “Anyway. You know I can’t stand this place. I thought you said your lease was up?”
My eyes narrowed as I studied her. Somewhere around middle-aged, I couldn’t tell exactly how old she was. She was pretty enough in an overdone, high-maintenance kind of way, but that didn’t explain how she knew Lydia or why she was here throwing insults around like it was her job. Was she a business associate? God, I hoped not. I wasn’t gonna lie. Lydia wasn’t exactly my favorite person at the moment, but I pitied her if she had to deal with this piece of work every day.
My eyes jumped to Lydia, who just shrugged sedately. “You know it suits us just fine. It’s safe, and rent is reasonable.”
The woman gave another little irritated huff and propped a hand on her hip. “Not if you have neighbors taking up all the parking space.”
I stood and addressed the woman’s issue. “Sorry, ma’am, that would be me.”
Her surprised gaze snapped in my direction, just noticing me for the first time. Her lip curled slightly as she studied me, her gaze sliding over my standard issue black polo and TDUs. Almost immediately, she dismissed me and turned back to Lydia.
“I didn’t realize you were entertaining a... friend.”
Anger rose up inside me. Above all things, I hated being disrespected. I somehow managed to bite my tongue for Lydia’s sake. If she wasn’t going to say anything, neither was I. The woman’s gaze landed next on the Chinese food sitting on the counter, and she launched into an opinionated offensive. “I don’t know how you eat that stuff.” She shuddered. “It’s revolting, and it’s full of fat. You of all people should know better.”
Had she just called Lydia fat? My Lydia, who was practically perfection, her tall figure rounded in all the right places? Who the hell did she think she was? Protective instincts flared to the surface, and I barely managed to tamp them down before I said something I’d regret. Well, that wasn’t quite true. I wouldn’t regret putting the woman in her place, but I had a feeling that Lydia might not like me speaking up on her behalf.
My brows drew together as I watched Lydia, waiting for her to defend herself. I couldn’t understand why she let this woman walk all over her. So far, she’d had to audacity to insult Lydia’s home, the food she ate, the way Lydia dressed, then dismissed me as if I were no better than common trash. I was already pissed off, struggling desperately to understand what was happening.
The open, relaxed expression Lydia had worn five minutes ago was long gone. If not friendly, exactly, she’d been polite and had even laughed a few times as we’d flipped through photographs. Now, though, it was as if she had literally flipped a switch. She’d shut every emotion down, defensive walls going up in their place. I hated seeing her like this, but I didn’t know what to do about it. Why would she let someone speak to her this way?
The woman studied Lydia, then sniffed, as if not getting the reaction she’d hoped for. I didn’t know what her angle was, but I was already ready to boot her out of the house. Lifting a shopping bag I hadn’t noticed, she set it on the counter and begin to pull out tiny pink outfits. “I bought these for Alexia.”
Lydia’s shoulders slumped, and she seemed to soften. I watched the exchange with interest. Lydia’s voice was quiet, almost resigned, when she responded. “Thanks, Jolene. I’m sure she’ll love them.”
The woman looked around. “Where is Alexia?” Her eyes lighting on Alexia, she strode into the living room and held her arms out. “Come here, baby.”
Anger coursed through my veins as I studied the woman’s features. Was Lydia related to this bitch? A sister, maybe? Jesus. My pity increased tenfold.
My daughter looked up at the woman—Jolene—for a moment, then redirected her attention to the blocks scattered around the floor. Jolene turned back to Lydia. “Have you spoken with the pediatrician lately? I still don’t understand why she doesn’t talk. And she doesn’t make eye contact.”
“It’s perfectly normal,” Lydia replied, her voice tight.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell the woman that she was barely a year old and had the attention span of a goldfish, but her next words stopped me in my tracks, sending a wave of fury through me. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with her?”
Red bled into my vision, anger threatening to explode outward. She thought she could walk in here and degrade my wife and child? She thought that bringing gifts could manipulate them into allowing her to spew her hateful opinions? Hell fucking no. I’d had enough. Drawing myself to my full height, I stared her down. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect.”
Jolene’s gaze jumped to me, filled first with surprise, then loathing. “And who are you?”
Lydia tried to interject. “This is—”
I cut her off. “I’m Xander. Alexia’s father.”
Surprise flared in the Jolene’s eyes, and she made a little sound of derision. “Of course. I should have realized. Too bad my grandbaby got all of your genes instead.”
Wait... what? My mind spun. It took a moment for the words to register, then realization slammed into me, stealing the retort from the tip of my tongue. Christ Almighty. This just got worse and worse. This was Lydia’s mother?
The bitch turned her attention back to Lydia. “How was your date?”
Just the mention of the man Lydia had been out with a few nights ago sent anger curling through me. Lydia shrugged. “We didn’t really hit it off.”
I snorted, then spoke the words I knew Lydia wouldn’t. “That’s an understatement. The asshole stuck her with the check.”
Jolene threw a glare my way before dismissing me once more. “Well. Maybe next time.”
Next time? How often did Lydia’s mother set her up with assholes like the one I’d met Saturday night? Why did she feel it was her place to set Lydia up at all? And to mention it in front of me—Lydia’s husband and Alexia’s father—pissed me off more than I could say. “I think it’s time to wrap up for tonight. It’s almost Alexia’s bedtime.”
Jolene dug in her heels, not ready to give in. “You’re staying?”
As much as I’d love to, I wasn’t going to lie and tell her yes, make her think Lydia and I were sleeping together. From the distasteful look on her face, I figured that was probably the worst thing she could imagine. Didn’t mean I couldn’t stretch the truth a little. “You’re blocking me in.”
Her eyes narrowed before she gave a haughty toss of her head. “Lydia, we’ll talk later.”
“Okay.”
Lydia’s eyes remained glued to the countertop, but I saw her flinch when the front door slammed, punctuating Jolene’s dramatic exit. I stared at Lydia, willing her to meet my gaze. Finally, steel-gray eyes lifted to mine, and the words poured from my mouth.
“What the hell just happened?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lydia
Jolene happened. Like a hurricane, she swept into my life then left me to pick up the destruction she left in her wake. Inhaling deeply, I swallowed down my frustration. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” Xander eyed me like I had two heads. “She insulted you, insulted our daughter...”
I knew all that. I’d been dealing with the same thing for twenty-six years. If I’d learned anything during that time, it was that my mother loved to fight. She thought she was always right, and she’d argue until she was blue in the face—or until the other person gave up. Which happened far more often than it should. I had no desire to engage in any kind of confrontation with her. It was easier to just let her spout her opinions then leave.
I waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.”
I bristled. “She just...” She just what? Xander wasn’t wrong.
He continued, undaunted, when I remained silent. “She’s manipulative, and you don’t have to put up with that shit. Especially from your own mother, of all people.”
I could feel my emotions shutting down. Tired of conflict, I turned toward the sink and busied my hands rinsing the dishes. “Okay.”
Xander let out a growl behind me. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” I heard the flat tone of my voice, but I refused to let him get under my skin.
All of a sudden, he was beside me. Cupping my elbow in one huge hand, he turned me to face him. “Don’t shut me out like that.”
“Like what?”
“That same crap you just pulled with her where you close yourself off and say something just to appease me.”
I dropped my gaze and studied the grain running through the wood planking beneath my feet.
“Lydia.”
I flinched at his hard tone. “Please stop yelling.”
Out of my peripheral vision, I watched Xander’s mouth open, then slam shut again. His huge hands gripped my upper arms, demanding my attention, and I reluctantly lifted my eyes to his. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m not yelling at you. I just... Help me understand. Because I don’t get it. Why do you let her talk to you like that?”
“It’s just how she is.” I shrugged, and he released his hold on me. “She’s done this for years. She has an opinion about everything.”
“That’s more than opinionated, and it’s a bullshit excuse for her behavior.” Xander pointed to the bag of frilly pink dresses on the counter. “She thinks that buying you things gives her the right to say whatever she wants. That’s not okay. Love doesn’t come at a price, Lydia. You do something nice for someone because you care—not so you can manipulate them.”
I swallowed hard. “She likes to buy Alexia things...” Because it was all she had to offer. She didn’t spend any quality time with Alexia, instead showing up with gifts, breezing in and out of our lives every week or so.
My mother was a pain in the ass. I knew it all too well, and now, so did Xander. She wasn’t ever going to change, so I wouldn’t waste my breath trying to reason with her.
“You’re so smart and strong and independent.” My cheeks heated as Xander began to speak. “You can’t let her make you feel bad for any of those things.”
My mother’s words from the past came floating back to me. I only want what’s best for you. But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Jolene wanted what was best for her. Tears pricked my eyes and burned the back of my throat. Not because Jolene’s words had made me angry or upset—but because of Xander. Even still mad at me, he hadn’t hesitated to support me. It felt good to have someone to hold me up instead of tear me down.
He met my gaze, studying me for a long moment. He lifted one hand and brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Don’t ever sell yourself short. You’re incredible, Lydia, just the way you are.”
I swallowed hard, completely unsure of what to say. No one had ever stood up for me this way before. Not even Shawn. He’d seemed to care for me, yes, but he had the same pretentious air that my mother did. He was constantly trying to change me.
“Thank you.” I whispered the words.
He was silent for several beats. “You’re her daughter; why would she think it’s okay to talk to you like that?”