JACKSON
Though she only lived a few blocks away from her mother, Bianca was in no shape to walk home. I wouldn’t have let her walk anyway, not when I had a car, but she had a blank, stunned look when she came out of the house that made me think she’d stumble aimlessly around the neighborhood for hours before finally realizing she was lost and lying down in the gutter for a nap.
I’ve seen someone hit in the head with a shovel who had more presence of mind than she was displaying.
I held the car door open for her. She inserted herself into the seat with the grace of a zombie, all jerking legs and stiff arms, the opposite of the way she normally moved.
“I didn’t think having me meet your mother would be so traumatizing for you,” I said once I was seated behind the wheel.
Bianca laughed. It was the noise a dog made when you stepped on its tail. “You asked my mother for permission to marry me,” she said.
“I did.”
She looked at me with eyes so wide the whites showed all around her irises. “What would you have done if she’d said no?”
I answered truthfully. “Become one of those panhandlers on the boulevard you said I reminded you of.”
“We wouldn’t get married?”
I wanted to attribute her horrified tone to desperate disappointment that I wouldn’t be her husband, but I knew what she was thinking. And it wasn’t about me.
“I would’ve paid for your mother’s surgery, and then I would’ve found a nice, comfortable bridge to live under.” I started the car and drove off, feeling her eyes on me like laser beams.
After a long time, she asked, “Why?”
Because I’d do anything to have you look at me the way you looked at me when I kissed you, even if it was only for one more time.
Aloud I said, “No one should have to die because they’re broke.”
She studied me in silence as we drove. I liked it, having her attention focused on me like that. It felt natural to have her riding beside me, sharing the same air. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but didn’t want to push my luck. Instead I turned on the radio.
A song came on. “Like A Virgin.” Madonna crooned, “Feels so good inside.”
I turned the radio off.
“Wait.” Bianca looked out the window in confusion. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“No. We’re going home.”
“But my home is—”
“We’re going to our home,” I said. “I want you to pick out your room before we leave this weekend. We need to get you settled. And I don’t want to have to lie to my parents when they ask if we’re living together.”
She made a small, strangled noise in her throat, then rested her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes.
“You’re terrible for my ego,” I said drily.
“I’m sorry. This is all just so . . . surreal.”
Her voice was muted. When I sent her a surreptitious glance, I saw that her face was pale and her knee was bouncing up and down. She really was traumatized.
Had I been a less selfish man, I would’ve turned around, driven her home, paid for her mother’s surgery, and ripped up our contract. But now—aside from the fact that I dearly loved my house and my car collection and all the things my father’s money bought me—I had to admit that the thought of us living under the same roof had me as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning.
I’d get to see those long-lashed doe eyes every day. I’d get to hear that voice, a jazz singer’s honeyed, husky timbre. I’d get the indescribable pleasure of watching her move among my things, warming all the cold marble surfaces with her fire and her laugh and her vibrancy.
In short, I’d be the luckiest fucking man on earth. I wasn’t giving that up over a simple thing like decency.
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
After a moment, she sat up straighter and blew out a breath. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s me who’s acting silly. You were right, this is a business deal that we’re both benefiting from.” She sent me a weak smile. “I’m grateful to you.”
Now I really felt like a louse.
We drove the rest of the way in silence, lost in our thoughts. When I stopped in front of the house, Rayford opened the door and bounded out, smiling from ear to ear. I wondered how long he’d been standing inside waiting for us to show up, peering out the windows like an anxious mother.
“Miss Bianca!” he said, opening the passenger door. He grinned at her with his entire body. “So good to see you again!”
For once I was glad of Rayford’s indestructible cheer. It visibly lifted Bianca’s spirits.
“Rayford.” She took his extended hand and allowed him to help her out of the car. Then she hugged him.
He looked as surprised as I felt.
“Why, Miss Bianca,” he said, chuckling and patting her back. “You’ll make an old man blush.”
She said something to him that I didn’t catch, then pulled away. I got out of the car as fast as I could, convinced I’d miss something important, but Rayford simply took her hand and put it into the crook of his arm and led her into the house.
I frowned at his back. The old goat just usurped me!
“So tell me how it went with your mama and Mr. Boudreaux,” said Rayford, gazing down at Bianca affectionately as they walked down the hall and I followed behind like an obedient dog, trying not to sniff too closely at her heels.
“It went great,” Bianca said, wonder in her voice. “She really liked him.”
Rayford threw a glance at me over his shoulder that said, Maybe she’s got a screw loose.
I made a face at him. He turned back to Bianca, suppressing a smile. “Of course she did. What’s not to like about Mr. Frownypants?”
I almost choked on my tongue, until Bianca laughed so heartily that I instantly forgave him. “Let’s take the elevator,” I said when Rayford headed for the spiral staircase to the second floor.
Bianca looked startled. “Elevator?”
“The master of the house enjoys installing unnecessary technology,” said Rayford, like I wasn’t two feet behind him. He patted her hand. “But now that you’ll be staying here, maybe you can talk him into finding a more useful hobby.”
“Disposing of dead bodies,” I muttered under my breath.
“Here we are!” Rayford stopped in front of the sleek brushed silver elevator doors, pretending like he hadn’t heard me. He couldn’t miss the glower I sent in his direction, however, or the Leave us alone! I transmitted directly into his brain.
After almost thirty-five years of knowing someone, telepathy is a given.
In one of the most unfortunate turns of phrases I’d ever heard, he said, “I’ll leave you two rabbits to it!”
He pressed the “Call” button on the elevator and went on his way down the hall, his footsteps and jaunty whistle echoing off the marble.
We got into the elevator. When the doors slid shut, Bianca said doubtfully, “Rabbits?”
I sighed. “I’d fire him, but he’s my only friend.”
“I’m your friend, too,” she said.
When I looked down at her, she glanced away and started to chew the inside of her cheek.
Friends. That should have made me happy, but it didn’t. It made me want to break something. Which is how I realized this lie of convenience was much more to me than just a business deal. I raked a hand through my hair and blew out a breath.
Bianca said quietly, “Was that the wrong thing to say?”
“No. Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“Because when you get really aggravated, you stab your hands through your hair.”
“I do?”
She nodded. “And you bristle. You literally get larger somehow. It’s freakish. Also you make some very unnerving animal sounds and have serial killer eyes.”
“What a charmer,” I muttered, crushed.
“It’s not all bad,” she said, looking at the ceiling.
My ears perked up, but I didn’t want to sound too eager, so I said with utmost disinterest, “Do tell.”
“Well. Um. You smell amazing. After you stopped murdering me with your eyes and I got past all the hair and your generally disheveled, hobolike appearance, it was the first thing I noticed about you.”
What a strange tingle that was, skittering over my skin. I didn’t dare speak and prayed for the elevator to go slower.
My silence prompted her to add, “And you have a really beautiful voice. If you ever decided not to be a layabout rich person, you could have an incredible career as a phone sex operator.”
Holy fuck. She thought I had a sexy voice.
For a second I stopped breathing. After my lungs remembered what their normal function was, I said, “Layabout?”
The elevator doors opened. Neither of us moved.
She said, “You’re right. That was rude. What’s an inoffensive word for idle?”
I wasn’t at all offended, because layabout and idle were both pretty accurate descriptions for how I spent my days, but I was enjoying the compliments too much to let this conversation get steered off topic. “Maybe you could tell me a few more things you like about me to make up for your horrible manners.”
The elevator doors began to slide shut, but I put out a hand, and they opened again. I looked at Bianca, my brows raised, waiting.
Under my stare, her cheeks faintly colored.
Christ, how I liked that.
She said, “You’ll get a big head.”
A smile broke over my face. “There’s just so many things, eh?”
With typical sass, she lifted her chin and flounced past me. “Actually I ran out of things already. I’m just trying to buy time to make up something else.”
Watching her walk past me, her dress swaying around her knees, I felt like a snorting, ground-pawing bull when a toreador flares his red cape.
Then Cody came tearing around the corner. He stopped short when he saw Bianca, his face lighting up. “Lady!” he hollered, and made a beeline for her legs.
Before he could slam into her, I scooped him up and tossed him into the air. He screamed like a banshee, his usual response to being delighted. He was easily delighted, so I lived with a lot of banshee screaming in my house.
“Oh! You’ve got him, sir, thank goodness!”
Panting and wheezing, Charlie staggered around the corner, her hair disheveled, one hand holding her side like she had a stitch. I wondered how long she’d been chasing him.
“Morning, Charlie.” I tossed Cody over my shoulders and held onto his ankles so he dangled down my back. “Is he wearing you out already?”
She passed a hand over her perspiring brow. “I don’t know where he gets his energy, sir. I swear it’s like Sunkist puts cocaine in their orange juice. Every day after breakfast he just starts bouncing off the walls and doesn’t stop until he falls asleep at night.”
Cody banged his little fists against my butt, laughing like it was the greatest game in the world. Bianca looked on in amusement, shaking her head.
In a quick move, I flipped him upright and set him on his feet. Then I knelt in front of him and gave him a hug, which instantly calmed him. He loves hugs more than anything else in the world.
Rubbing his back, I said, “What do you think about having Charlie read you a book, buddy?”
His head resting on my shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around my neck, he gurgled a laugh. “Book buddy book buddy!”
That was a yes. Charlie sighed in gratitude. I gave Cody a kiss on the top of his head. I murmured into his hair, “Love you, buddy.”
Cody looked at me and grinned, his pale, chick-fluff hair standing on end from static electricity. He pronounced, “Cody loves Daddy, too.”
I kissed his chubby cheek. “Now I have to talk to Bianca for a while, but I’ll come and read with you and Charlie when we’re done, okay?”
Cody placed his warm, sticky hands on my cheeks and squealed in happiness.
When I glanced up, I caught Bianca watching us with a strange, pained look on her face, like she might be about to cry. She looked away quickly and said a muted hello to Charlie.
“Nice to see you again, Bianca,” said Charlie, smiling warmly.
I stood, holding Cody’s hand. “Buddy, can you say hello to Bianca without tackling her?”
Looking like a miniature soldier, Cody stood up straight and put his hand to his forehead. He shouted, “Lady!” then grinned.
Bianca laughed softly. “Hello, Cody.”
“Book buddy book buddy!”
Bianca smiled at him. “Do you have a favorite book?”
Cody jumped up and down, laughing and stamping his feet.
“That means he likes them all,” explained Charlie, taking Cody’s other hand. He released mine, deciding it was time to make like a barnacle and attach himself to Charlie’s left leg. She gently peeled him off, then lifted him up and settled him on her hip. She gave him an affectionate peck on his forehead. “Ready to go read, Cody?”
His answering shriek in the affirmative was almost deafening. All three of us laughed.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you later, sir. Bianca.” Charlie nodded at Bianca then turned around and went back around the corner toward the nursery, Cody chattering away on her hip.
“You’re very good with him,” said Bianca quietly once they were gone.
I looked at her sharply. Why did she seem so disturbed? “He won’t be a bother to you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Charlie keeps him busy, and he’ll start preschool next year—”
“Jackson! That’s not what I was thinking at all!” Bianca looked appalled. “I just meant that you’re very . . . good with him. A natural. You seem like you were born to be a father.”
I loved Cody with all my heart, like he was my own flesh and blood, but I was always convinced I was doing something wrong or could be doing things better. I’d gone to boarding school as a kid, and when I was home my father was always working, so I didn’t have much in the way of day-to-day role modeling from a father figure. I was basically just winging it with Cody, praying my best was good enough for him.
So for Bianca to tell me I was a natural at fatherhood made me feel fifty feet tall.
“Thank you,” I said gruffly. Then I noticed that her nostrils were flaring and her face was red, and I went from flattered to confused. “Are you angry?”
She said stiffly, “I’m not the kind of woman who’s bothered by children.”
My confusion was growing like a tumor in my stomach. “Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” she cut in, eyes glittering, “or you wouldn’t have said it.”
I was beginning to get the sense I’d done something extremely stupid and should proceed with utmost caution, assuming live munitions were buried every few feet under the floor. I said slowly, “Whatever I’ve said to offend you, I’m sorry.”
She stared at me with those glittering eyes for a while. Then she turned away stiffly and shook her head. “Forget it. Let’s just get on with this.”
Her bitter tone wasn’t easing my mind. In fact, it was driving me crazy. Before she could take two steps away, I curled my hand around her arm and gently turned her back to me. She refused to look at me, so I put my hand under her chin and tilted her head up.
“What is it?” I said softly.
For a moment her expression seemed to convey her answer would be two stiff fingers poked into my eyes. But then her look softened, and she sighed.
“Ignore me. I’m premenstrual.”
She tried to pull away, which I was having none of. “Bianca,” I said, pulling her closer. “What. Is it?”
When she looked into my eyes, everything else disappeared.
She said, “I’m not the girl you need to think the worst of, Jax. I’m not the girl whose motives you need to suspect. You said you wouldn’t lie to me, and I believed you, so I’ll extend you the same courtesy.” She inhaled, her lower lip trembling. “When you say something thoughtless, my feelings are going to get hurt. That child is the sweetest little boy I’ve ever met. He won’t be a bother. He won’t be a burden. I don’t know how much interaction you’d like me to have with him, but I would very much like to become his friend, and for you to insinuate that I’m that heartless that I’d be put out by living in the same house as him, well . . .” She sniffled and looked away. Her voice got high. “That really makes me want to smack you again.”
With my slow exhalation, my final, futile shreds of resistance slipped away. My lips said, “I’m an idiot. Please forgive me.”
But my heart said, I’m yours.