“That sounds fun,” Peyton said. “And apple juice? I love apple juice!”
I didn’t have to see Bri’s face to know she was beaming with delight. Apple juice and Cinderella were her two true loves in this world, so to have found someone else who felt the same way?
Shoot her down—she was in love with Peyton based on that alone.
“Okay!” Bri turned around. “Daddy, you get the moodie, and I’ll get the apple juice.”
She scrambled down off of Peyton’s lap and ran into the kitchen.
“Is she okay with that juice?” Peyton watched her go.
I selected the Blu-ray from the cupboard and shot a smirk her way. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re getting a juice box.”
“I can live with that.”
I turned away and hit the eject button on the player. “You didn’t have to say yes to her, you know.”
“Of course, I had to. Have you seen those eyes? How do you say no to her, ever?”
“I think of all the times she screams and swings her arms like a tiny terrorist, and it’s pretty easy.” I put the disk in and turned around.
Peyton had one eyebrow raised. “See, now, I’d think that’s reason to say no.”
“It depends on the day. Sometimes it results in her being put to bed to calm down, which means she ends up taking a rare afternoon nap, and I get some peace and quiet.”
“That’s a thing around her? She was talking to me for thirty minutes flat about what I did and didn’t like.”
“Only thirty minutes? Lucky you. She has about three hours of material of that.” I took a seat on the sofa, making sure to leave space between us for Bri. “Did she get started on hedgehogs yet?”
Peyton looked a little confused. “Hedgehogs?”
“YouTube is the devil.”
“That…was quite the jump in subject.”
I laughed as the main menu music hit on the TV. “I’m going to preface this by saying kids are weird.”
“Some get that from their parents.”
I blinked at her for a second. She wasn’t wrong if half these people who had a mini-career opening fucking toys on YouTube were parents.
“There are a bunch of stupid videos on YouTube, and apparently, watching people open toys is thrilling.”
Now, she looked really confused.
“And on one of those she watched, the person had a pet hedgehog who wasn’t having the nonsense of her opening a Hatchimal on camera, so it stole the egg.”
She blinked several times in quick succession. “I have no idea what you just said, and if I’m honest… Please don’t explain it.”
I laughed and hit play on the TV.
“Here’s your dooce-box,” Briony said, handing Peyton two. “And das mine. I can’t do the straws.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” Peyton looked at the two juices that had been thrust at her.
Smiling, I took one from her. I pulled the straw off the back, out of the tiny plastic slip, and poked it through the foiled hole in the top. “There you go,” I said to Briony. “What do you want for dinner?”
She put the straw in her mouth and pursed her lips as she sucked the juice up. Peyton watched her, lips twitching, as she put her straw in place.
“Pizza!” Briony announced.
Oh no. I’d eaten too much pizza lately.
Was there such a thing as too much pizza?
Maybe if the toppings were changed up…
“Peydon, do you want pizza?” Bri asked, leaning right into her.
“I like pizza,” she replied, smiling sweetly down at her. “What’s your favorite?”
“I like spots and cheese.”
“Spots?”
I coughed on my water. “Pepperoni,” I explained. “They look like spots on the pizza.”
Peyton’s eyes met mine for a minute. Silent laughter shone back at me. That really was toddler logic at its finest.
“You know,” she said, looking down at Peyton. “Spots are my favorite, too!”
Once again, Briony gasped. “Reawy?”
“Really, really. I love spots.”
Oh, Jesus.
It might have been a mistake introducing these two. Not only was my daughter becoming increasingly obsessed with someone who seemed to be a brunette, adult version of her…
No, that was the problem. Peyton was the brunette, adult version of Briony, attitude and all—and if there was anything my daughter didn’t need, it was someone who could teach her a thing or ten about sarcasm.
“I’ll order pizza,” I said, going to stand.
“Oh, you got it last time. I’ll go call them.” Peyton put her juice on the side table and tried to move, but Briony stopped her.
“No. Mimi told me that only gentlemen buy dinner. Princesses sit and look priddy.”
Peyton looked down at her. “Sit and look pretty? I like to buy my own pizza sometimes, and that’s okay.”
Without missing a beat, Briony said, “Princesses sit and look priddy so the mens buying dinner don’t know dat we can kick dere butts.”
Then, she grinned.
So, did Peyton.
And I needed to call my mother. Couldn’t we teach my daughter to, I don’t know, become an engineer or something?
Not that a badass wasn’t a totally viable career option, but I didn’t know how well that paid.
“Well, that makes sense to me. Is that what we’re going to do? Let Daddy buy the pizza, then be pretty, so he doesn’t know that we can kick his butt?” Peyton whispered.
Briony nodded. “Oh no, we’re missing the moodie.”
Peyton looked over her head at me and winked.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen her do, which was weird since I’d seen her with my cock in her mouth. Maybe it was because of the way the curl of her lips made her eyes shine bright.
Or maybe it was because for the first time since Briony became my entire world, there was someone who didn’t know her sitting there, being the kind of person she needed in her life.
Fun. Friendly. Crazy. A bright spot of wildness that I, as her father, couldn’t really provide.
Even if I was pretty damn good at painting tiny nails.
“Okay, I’ll get pizza, and you two look pretty.” I stood up.
Briony leaned right against her and looked at me. “Oh, Daddy. We are priddy.”
Peyton swallowed a laugh as Briony wriggled her way under her arm and made herself comfortable. She dropped her gaze as my little girl snuggled in against her and squeaked along with the mice.
I dragged myself away before my heart clenched any harder.
Fuck. I preferred it when she couldn’t stand the sight of me—when all she wanted to do was yell at me and get away from me.
Fuck and run.
I preferred it when we wanted to fuck and run.
Not watch Cinderella and eat pizza with my tiny human.
I leaned against the wall and, blowing out a long breath, ran my fingers through my hair.
As far as I knew, her experiment was still in place. Sure, it didn’t explain why she was here tonight, even though I’d just thrown the idea out since last night and this morning had been cut short. It didn’t explain why she was curled up with my baby and watching Cinderella.
I knew the rule. Her golden rule. She had to have sex with someone three times without falling in love with them.
But did that rule include me falling for her?
***
Peyton gently reached over and prodded my arm. I’d had enough of Disney movies around an hour ago, so I was browsing Facebook while she and Briony carried on with their marathon.
If two movies were a marathon, that was.
“She’s asleep,” Peyton whispered, pointing to where Bri’s head was laid on a cushion on top of her lap.
She looked so peaceful and comfortable. She was snuggled right in, eyes closed, even breathing. At least I’d changed her into her pajamas before the pizza had arrived.
“I got her,” I whispered back, slowly dislodging her tiny bare feet from my own lap so I could stand.
Gently, I lifted her up, and she wrapped her little arms around my neck, snort-snoring as I disturbed her. I tightly wrapped my arms around her and made sure to be extra careful as I carried her up to her room.
The boards in her room creaked as I expertly swept her covers to the side and set her down in her bed. Her blonde hair directly contrasted against the magenta pillowcase that was covered with tiny, white crowns.
She snuffled a little before she rolled over and quieted.
“Um,” Peyton whispered from the door. “I just went to get water and found this on the floor under the table.” She held up Briony’s beloved Cinderella doll, complete with ketchup stain in her hair. “She told me how much she loves her.”
I took the doll from her and kissed her cheek. “Lifesaver.”
She blushed and stepped out of the room, disappearing before I could even lay the doll in bed with Briony.
I tucked her right in, kissed her head, and went downstairs after Peyton. I found her sitting on the sofa, cradling a bottle of water, completely enraptured with the live-action Beauty and the Beast.
It was a strange sight, but I didn’t say anything. I hovered in the doorway and watched her.
The TV flickered over her features, showing them off to perfection. The gentle curve of her lips and the slight shadow of her eyelashes whenever she blinked. The shadows of her lashes spread out like spiders legs across her skin, and I was mesmerized by how the shadows both shortened and lengthened with each and every blink.
She reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear. One loose lock fell back against her cheek, but she ignored it, throwing her head back to laugh.
Soft. Quiet. Genuine. It sent goosebumps across my arms, and I drew in the quietest deep breath I ever had.
The TV flashed, and in that moment, my memory did the same.
I saw the seventeen-year-old Peyton Marie Austen. Her hair wasn’t as long or curly. Her lips weren’t in that pink-plum lipstick she adored, and she looked like a baby version of the woman she was now.
And for the first time in ten years, something struck me hard.
Thank fucking God she ignored me. Thank God she never wanted to hear my reason for standing her up. Thank God in ten different languages that she kept her damn stubborn streak.
If she’d listened to me, there was no chance that I’d be looking at her, sitting on my sofa, after spending the last three hours snuggling my daughter and humoring all her questions—and there were a lot of those.
Peyton covered her mouth with her hand as another giggle escaped her, and I couldn’t help but smile.
My phone pinged.
She jumped, hand to her chest, and looked over at me. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to see you laughing like a little girl at Lumiere.”
“He’s funny!”
I grinned and pulled my phone from my pocket. Lawrence’s name flashed in the message box, and my stomach dropped.
The phrase no news was good news was true.
He never had anything good to say.
“Elliott? Are you okay?” Peyton’s brows pulled into a frown, and she reached for the remote.
“I’m fine. I just—gimme a minute, yeah? I’ll be right in.” I took my phone to the kitchen and opened the message.
Lawrence: Bethany and Vincent are not backing down. Hearing set for three weeks from tomorrow. Will call you tomorrow with specifics.
I wished he’d waited until tomorrow to tell me anything at all.
I let go of a long, heavy breath and sat on one of the chairs.
Just like that, any good feelings I’d had while staring at Peyton like a lovesick puppy disappeared. Completely disintegrated. The space they left was filled with dread.
The sick knowing that I’d done everything for the little girl upstairs, that the only thing I’d ever done for myself was go on that damn blind date, and someone wanted to take her away from me.
I couldn’t even be righteous or forceful right now. A hearing date. That made it real. That was a real thing that was happening and signified the start of the single biggest fight of my life.
How could I be thinking about Peyton and falling for her when I didn’t even know if I could keep the one girl in my life who was every cell in my body?
“Elliott?”
I looked up, hand rubbing over my mouth. Peyton stood in the doorway, grasping hold of the wooden frame with one pink-nailed hand. Her blue eyes were steady on me, but concern tightened her features.
“Are you okay?”
I could lie. I could tell her yes. I could tell her I’d never been better, and that it didn’t matter, there was nothing she could do or say even if it did matter.
“No.” The word fell from my tongue so easily. “Not really.”
She hovered there for a moment before she pushed off the door toward me. There was a click and the room filled with light. I didn’t even know it was dark in here. I’d been so consumed with my phone, I hadn’t cared.
Peyton took the chair next to me at the table and rested her hand on my arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I said honestly. “But I think I need to.”
She lightly squeezed my arm. “Is it about the fight thing you said at my house?”
I tilted my head and met her eyes. “Fight thing?”
“Yeah. Right before you left, you said something about going into the fight of your life and that you couldn’t fight for me, too.”
I winced. “That came out wrong.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on the fight. If the fight is to pay your electric bill, then I’d be pissed.”
The sparkle in her eyes made me smile. It was tiny, but it was a smile all the same.
Man. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“Come sit in the front room. This is a long story.” I got up, taking her hand. She let me pull her into the room and drag her down onto the sofa next to me. “A few years ago, I met this girl. She was a great girl, and we started to see each other casually. We weren’t exclusive, but we reached a place where we were only sleeping with each other. About three months into that, she found out she was pregnant. There was no doubt the baby was mine because of the dates.”
Peyton’s eyes were wide, but it wasn’t shock. She was simply listening to me and looking at me the entire time.
“A couple months later, we broke up. The seriousness of the situation had hit us, and we realized that while we were great at being casual, a serious relationship didn’t work for us. She was too wild, and I was too controlled and possessive. She didn’t like it, so we called it quits. Nothing changed in terms of the pregnancy. I was there for every doctor visit and when she was born.”
I looked down.
“Then, one day, when I was at work when Bri was three weeks old, Jenna went to my parents’ house. She left Bri in her car seat with all her things, plus a diary. She told them she wasn’t cut out to be a mom, and everything I needed to know was in that journal.”
Peyton moved closer to me, and without hesitation, took my hand in hers. Her fingers threaded between mine, long and slender and soft.
“She relinquished parental control not long after that. Bri is one hundred percent mine. I tried to be the good guy and give her parents all that they wanted, but they never visited. They didn’t see her or care about her until a few weeks ago.” I met her eyes. “But they didn’t come to me. They went to their lawyer.”
“Oh no,” she whispered.
“Yes. They filed for full-time custody. They claim Jenna wasn’t in her right mind when she signed Bri over to me, and that she’d benefit more from being in a two-parent family over me alone.”
“That’s bullshit.” Peyton touched her hand to my cheek and made me look at her. “You know that, don’t you? Jesus—I’ve met her twice, and one of those times, she was throwing up. You’re the best thing she could ever wish for.”
I scratched at my chin and moved away from her to get up. “That text was my lawyer. The initial hearing is set for three weeks’ time. I won’t have to be there. It’s just a presentation of the case, but it’s such shit.” Both of my hands went into my hair and gripped it. “I never hid her from them. I never tried for one second to keep her from her biological family. Her so-called mom is the one who walked away, not me. She’s the one who wrote a fucking journal every day of her pregnancy and documented how much she hated it and Bri. I’m the one who stepped up and has done everything for her ever since she fucking left.”
Fingertips. Against my back. They were so gentle.
Peyton trailed her hand across my back until she was standing in front of me. Her ghost of a touch tickled across my hand, then she moved her hand up my arm, over my shoulder, up my neck, until once again, she was cupping the side of my face.
“Elliott,” she said in a voice so soft it barely had any volume, “I don’t know what to say to you, but I know one thing. You’re the most amazing father to her. If anyone looks at you and agrees with her parents, they need to be fired and have all their licenses revoked. Briony needs you, and nothing will ever change that. You’ve had her for her entire life. She only knows you.”
I looked down her, meeting the blue ocean that was her gaze.
Her strong, steely, compassionate gaze that thumped me right in the chest.
“In fact, she’s so strong-willed over talking to you through a damn door that if she ever had to leave, I have no doubt she’d break out of a maximum-security prison to find her way back to you. And she’s three. That’s some Disney princess shit right there.”
I placed my hand over hers. “She doesn’t know, and she’ll never know. She’s never asked why she doesn’t have a mom because mine is so amazing to her, but that doesn’t make it easier. She’s mine. I have the papers saying so. But grandparents…they’re fucky rights, Peyt. They’re so grey they have more shades than that book series.”
“Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“Right. We’re not talking one paint sampler here—we’re talking an entire store’s worth on a good day.”
“Stop,” she said softly, placing her other hand on my other cheek. “Stop this.”
“I can’t. I—”
“Elliott.” She closed the distance between our bodies until there was barely a breath between us. “I know you can’t. I know you won’t stop worrying about this, but as someone who’s seen you with her twice, there’s no way anyone with half a brain cell will ever take her from you unless it’s to feed some freaking ducks or something. She loves you, and you love her more than anything. If they’ve never seen her, I don’t see how they have a claim to custody.”
“Neither do I, but that’s how this works. They get a fair shot and—”
She pressed her lips to mine. “Stop,” she whispered, lips moving against mine with the short word. She pulled back, eyes full of the stubborn determination that once frustrated the hell out of me.
Now? Now, it made me want to stop and listen to her.
“Being angry won’t help anything. It doesn’t help you or your mom or your dad, and it sure as hell doesn’t help Bri.” She dropped one hand. The other slid down the sharp line of my jaw, and I swear she rubbed her thumb over the light stubble that coated my chin.
“Did you just rub my stubble?”
“Shut up,” she said quickly. “It felt good. Don’t judge me.”
“No judging.” The barest of laughs bubbled inside me. “And for what it’s worth, you’re right.”
She sighed. “Hearing that never gets old.”
“Why? ‘Cause it’s a rarity?”
She smacked her lips. Her glare was hot, but there was nothing really behind it. “Look. Fight of your life or not, I will be the next best thing.”
Cute. She thought she wasn’t.
“Let’s sit again. I promise not to get up again.” I pulled her to the sofa with me. She all but fell on top of me, but her ass hit the cushion next to me.
Her legs were both hooked over mine. I stared at them for a moment in anticipation of her moving them, but she didn’t.
She kept her legs over mine, her body close to me, and her hand on my arm.
I rested my hand between her legs, halfway up her thighs, and exhaled slowly. “Rationally, I know the truth. I know she’s mine. I know there’s no reason to take her from me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared. Who am I if I’m not her father, Peyton?”