CHAPTER 31
LIAM
Josie has only knocked once since I moved in, so when I open the door and she’s standing there I know something is wrong. I can tell she’s upset. Her stance on my porch is defiant. She’s pissed off and I don’t know what I did, but I know her anger is because of me.
Stepping out onto the porch is probably the dumbest thing I’ve done all week. It’s cold, snowing and I’m not wearing any socks or shoes. I could care less about not having a jacket on. I’m trying to be serious with her when all I want to do is run back into the warmth of my home.
There is nothing more frustrating than a woman who doesn’t tell you what’s wrong when you ask her. I want to grab her and shake the answer out of her. She stands in front of me, her shoulders hunched, refusing to look at me, to show me her beautiful eyes that I can read like an open book.
I tear open the manila envelope that she slams against my chest. My eyes read over words like custody, visitation, child support, and California resident. The last page does me in – it says I’m requesting a paternity test to determine if the child known as Noah Michael Preston is my son.
Josie crosses her arms over her mid-section like she’s been punched repeatedly. She doesn’t bother to wipe the tears that have started cascading down her beautiful face, now marred by deception with my name attached. No wonder she wants to take Noah away. I told her I’d never take him from her and these papers are telling her I am.
This is not what I want. I want us to be a family. I never even thought about this when I found out about Noah. Never in a million years did this thought ever enter my mind.
“Where did you get this?” I demand. I grip the papers, crinkling them in my hand as I shake them. She rolls her eyes and turns away from me, pissing me off even more.
“I just want to get Noah and go home.”
“Answer me.”
She shakes her head. “Just give me my son!” she yells, her hands instantly cover her face.
I can’t, I won’t. I will not hand over Noah without having the answers I want from her. I grab her arm and pull her into the house. She resists, fighting me as I drag her through the kitchen and down the stairs to my studio. It’s a soundproof room so we can yell and scream at each other and Noah won’t hear us.
I push her into the room and slam the door shut, locking it behind us.
“Who gave you these fucking papers, Josephine?” I hate saying her full name, but it gets her attention. She looks up at me, determined.
“You know, I thought we could work at this co-parenting thing, but I was wrong. I don’t want your money, Liam. I don’t need it. Noah and I have managed this whole time on our own so you don’t have to worry about me sucking you dry.”
“Josie –”
“No, let me finish.” She holds up her hand, moving away from me, as far as she can get.
“No!” I yell at her. “I will not. Tell me who gave you these god damn papers. There is no postage so I know they were hand delivered. I’m really about to lose my shit here, so just tell me already.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it’s fucking bullshit!” I scream. “I didn’t do this. I don’t want this. I don’t want to take Noah away from you or Beaumont.”
I stalk over to her and push her up against the wall. My body is pressed against hers, as my hand cups her face gently. I want to do nothing more than to kiss her. To rip all her bulky winter layers away from her body and feel her skin against mine.
“I love our son, Josie. I love him so much. I would never do anything to hurt him and taking him away from you would do that.” I try to calm down. I know who’s behind this and for me this is the last straw.
“Her name is Sam,” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her, but catching Sam escape from her lips is all the answer I need.
“Listen to me,” I say, pulling her chin up so she’s looking at me. “I bought this house with you in mind. I’m here because this is where my family is, you and Noah. I want to be with you.
“Sam's my manager and has clearly overstepped her boundaries. I don’t know how she knows about Noah, but I’ll find out. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you. I love you, Jojo.”
“Please don’t take him,” she begs. I hate seeing her cry. I hate the look of desperation on her face. I’m going to kill Sam for doing this to Josie… to us. We don’t need this drama in our lives.
I push a few strands of loose hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch, rubbing her cheek against my rough palm. I can’t resist. I kiss away her tears until I find her mouth. I place three kisses along her lips, the first two in the corners before testing her reaction in the middle. She’s receptive. Her hands pull me forward, closer.
I stop too soon for both of us. I want her, but not like this.
“Don’t you want me?” she whispers against my lips.
“I do, so much, but not like this. Not in my studio where Noah can see us.” I pull away from her and look into her beautiful blue eyes. “I want every part of you in my life, Jojo, when you’re ready.”
We walk back upstairs hand in hand, leaving the papers in my studio. I’ll deal with them later. The first thing I need to do is call my lawyer and have them retracted. I don’t even know what to do about Sam. Another question for my lawyer is if I can fire her? How much will it cost me to get out of this contract? She’s gone too far this time.
Noah and I start to set up the tree, centering it in front of the large picture window facing the street. Josie comes in, her face reserved. I know every expression she has and this one is hesitant, as if she’s walking on egg shells. I need to fix this and fast.
I purposely slant the tree. When she huffs, I turn my head and hide my smile. She starts to boss us around, telling us right, left and finally throws her hands up when we don’t listen to her. She leaves us men to the hard task of making our tree stand up right while she goes to the kitchen and works on making finger foods for tonight. Katelyn, the girls, Harrison and Quinn will be here shortly for our decorating party.
The Westbury men will have none of that. Noah and I sneak up on her in the kitchen. He tackles her from one side, and I the other. When she screams we start laughing. I can’t help but kiss her. I hear Noah snicker and walk off, so I kiss her again. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it, I love her.
I kiss her a third time briefly on the lips when the front door bursts open. Katelyn yells to the girls to be respectful. Josie pushes me away. It should hurt my feelings but it doesn’t. I know she wants to focus on Katelyn during the holidays. I make the decision to start wooing my girl. She needs to be romanced.
When Josie and I bring food into the living room, the kids, like vultures, attack right off. I leave them to answer the door. Harrison and Quinn are standing there, both holding out bouquets of flowers.
“You shouldn’t have,” I say, reaching for the flowers.
“Well, you are a sexy beast,” Harrison says as he bats his eye lashes. I invite them in and direct them toward the festivities. Josie and Katelyn look up and smile when we enter.
“This is my Josie and our son, Noah.” I point to Noah who looks up briefly and waves.
“Nice to meet you, Harrison. Hi Quinn,” Josie says, bending down to his level.
Quinn waves as he inches closer to his dad, but hands Josie the bouquet of flowers.
“You know she’s a florist, right?”
“Shut up, Liam. They’re beautiful! Thank you, Quinn.” Josie eyes me like I’m in some sort of trouble. I sort of wish I had taken advantage of her downstairs if she’s going to look at me like that.
“Harrison, this is our friend, Katelyn, and her daughters, Peyton and Elle.” Both girls look up and smile before they go back to sorting the ornaments.
Katelyn shakes Harrison’s hand and in slow motion he hands her the bouquet. She accepts the flowers, bringing them in so she can inhale their scent. Her eyes look up at him, his hand still holding the bouquet.
“Hi,” he says as if he’s just run five miles.
“Shit,” I say, shaking my head. Josie looks from them to me, her eyes going wide.
I pat Harrison on the shoulder and laugh. He lurches forward before catching himself, never taking his eyes off of Katelyn. Christmas just officially became interesting.