Chapter Eleven
Judd Mathews
I STOP ROCKING SCARLETT WHEN I hear Leighton’s voice. I almost call out to her because I think she’s talking to me, but then her voice gradually becomes louder. And I pick up on what’s happening.
She’s arguing with someone.
I don’t care if you forget what you did or not. It means nothing to me. Nothing!
This conversation isn’t for my ears. I shouldn’t be listening, but I’m curious to know who she’s talking to. Instinct tells me that it’s her ex-husband. And I don’t care for that one bit. He treated her horribly and doesn’t deserve a minute of her time.
I’m motionless in an attempt to pick up on what she’s saying, but Scarlett whimpers, drowning out the little bit of conversation that I could hear.
“Shh . . .” I get up and bring Scarlett to my shoulder. I rub her back with my palm in a circular motion the way I’ve seen Leighton do while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Leighton’s little trick is effective and Scarlett falls asleep quickly.
“Sweet dreams, baby girl.” I kiss the top of her head and place her inside the crib.
I stop and listen intently. Silence is the only thing that I hear on the other side of the door.
Maybe I shouldn’t but I want to check on Leighton. Make sure that her ex didn’t upset her . . . if that’s who she was talking to.
I knock, and there’s a pause before she replies, “Come in.”
I open the door and she sniffles. It’s impossible to not see the redness in her eyes. “Miss prissy pants went down without a fight?”
“She fought it for a minute, but she was no match for her old man.”
“She’s gotten used to your doing everything for her this week. She’s going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss her like crazy.” Both of you.
“What time are you leaving in the morning?”
“Bus pulls out at seven.” Scarlett has been sleeping a little later lately. She probably won’t be awake before I leave in the morning.
I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to walk out of this house in the morning, knowing that she won’t be the same baby when I come back.
I could kill Doug. Not only did the asshole rebook concerts without talking to me, he scheduled them back-to-back. I barely get a break before we’re off to the next city for another show. He left me no time in between to come home. I’m literally going to leave in the morning and not set foot in this house again until July. My daughter is going to be six months old the next time I see her.
“Promise me that you’ll FaceTime me every day so I can see Scarlett Leighton . . . and so she can see me and hear my voice.”
“I will. Every day.”
She sniffles and looks up, dragging her fingertips across the top of her cheekbones. “I’m sorry.”
She looks down, hiding her face from me.
“What’s wrong?”
She wipes away more tears from her cheeks and shakes her head.
I cross the room and sit on the edge of the bed next to her. “I heard you on the phone arguing with someone. Your ex-husband?”
She nods. “Yes, but that’s not what is upsetting me. I couldn’t care less about that jackass.” She looks up at me, and I see true heartache and agony in her eyes. “Tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday.”
Shit. It’s Sadie’s birthday, and I’m scheduled to walk out on Leighton?
“I’m sorry. I had no idea that it was tomorrow.”
“Of course you didn’t know. There was no way you could.”
“Is that why your ex called?”
“He used her birthday as an excuse to call, but his real motive was all about him and making himself feel better.”
“Feel better about what?” The agony on Leighton’s face is genuine. And sobering. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I think for the first time in my life, I do want to talk about it. I want to tell someone about the truly horrific thing that he did to me. I think it’s the best way for me to heal and move on.”
She moves to the other side of the bed, making room for me. I scoot closer and get into a more comfortable position while still facing her. I like to look at her face when she talks.
“I found out that Sadie was stillborn, and my doctor admitted me to the hospital later that day. I was too far along in my pregnancy for a D and C. The only way to deliver her was to induce labor.”
“They gave you medicine to make you have contractions at five months?”
“Yes, but my body wasn’t ready for her to come, so it was a very long process. It took more than a day. Brad was in and out the whole time, sometimes leaving me there by myself for hours.”
“Your parents weren’t there with you?”
“My dad doesn’t fly, so they were driving to Texas from Florida and hadn’t made it in yet.”
Leighton blinks rapidly and looks up toward the ceiling. “Long story short: I was alone when Sadie was born. Only the doctor and nurses were with me.”
What an asshole. “Where was Brad?”
“He left me there while I was giving birth . . . to be with another woman.”
The fucker couldn’t even stop cheating while she was giving birth? “That’s so fucking bad that I don’t even know what to say about it.”
“I’ve never told anyone that he did that to me. I was too ashamed . . . humiliated . . . devastated to tell anyone the truth.”
“The shame isn’t on you.”
“I know that now, but I didn’t back then. I blamed myself for every problem in our marriage. I wasn’t pretty enough. I wasn’t skinny enough. I wasn’t a good enough wife. It took me a long time to figure out that it didn’t matter who or what I was. Brad was a selfish, cheating asshole. It’s who he is as a person, and there was nothing I could have done differently to change that.”
“How did you end up married to such a rotten motherfucker?”
“I didn’t see it before we married, and it was too late by the time that I figured it out.”
“You’re divorced. Why is he still bothering you?”
“Not sure, but I put an end to it. He won’t be calling me anymore; I’m done, and he finally understands that.”
“Good. I don’t want him bothering you.” But if he does, I have my own ways of making him stop.
“You’re sweet.”
“Only to you and Scarlett.”
“And your mom and your grandmother and your sister and Ellie.”
I chuckle. “Don’t let that get out. I have an image to maintain.”
“Oh, okay,” she whispers. “I’ll keep it on the down low.”
I point to the pink and white box on her bed. “New shoes?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
She lifts the top, and I immediately recognize baby items. “This is my memory box for Sadie. I opened it tonight for the first time since she was born.”
“Are you okay?”
She shakes her head, and tears form in her eyes again. “I thought I was, but I can’t stop crying.”
Leighton’s hurting, and I want to make her feel better. Even if that means I do nothing but stay by her side tonight.
I get up and take off my boots before lying down beside her on the bed. “Come here.”
She scoots close and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her body against mine. “It’s okay. Cry all you want, Leighton.”
She drapes her arm over my stomach and buries her face against the side of my chest. Her body shudders, and then she makes a gasping sound for breath.
This isn’t what I wanted tonight. This isn’t how I planned on parting ways for two months.
Can’t lie. I wanted to fuck Leighton ninety-nine different ways tonight. And I think she would have let me if the circumstances were different.
But she’s in pain. And right now I want to comfort her more than I want to fuck her.
***
I slept next to Leighton in her bed last night, holding her body against mine. Fully clothed. Not one single sexual act. And it was enough.
I try to pull away without waking her, but I’m unsuccessful. “It’s time for you to get up?”
“Yeah. It’s really early, so go back to sleep.”
“Will you come say goodbye to me before you go?”
“Of course.”
I get into the shower, and the only thing on my mind while I wash my body is the way that Leighton felt against me last night. Damn. Her small little frame and its curves fit perfectly against my body.
I close my eyes and wrap my soapy hand around my erection, imagining what it would feel like moving in and out of her. I suspect that she hasn’t been with a man in a while. I bet she’s tight as a coil, and my cock would be a snug fit inside her.
I can’t remember ever wanting a woman more, but to make a move on her at such a vulnerable time would have made me a bigger dick than her ex.
I don’t have long until it’s time to leave. I stayed in bed beside Leighton longer than I should have. But even after lying next to her all night, I wasn’t ready to leave her side when morning came.
I go into Scarlett’s nursery for a final look at her before I leave. I rub her back with my palm because I need to touch her, feel her warmth. I lean over the crib’s railing and press a kiss to her forehead. Dammit, I’m going to miss this little girl so much.
I knock on Leighton’s door before entering. “Come in.”
She gets up from where she’s sitting on the side of the bed. “Time to go?”
“Yeah.”
I could stand in front of her, searching for words to disguise the ache that I feel inside, but I don’t see the need. Not when I want her to understand that leaving is killing me—and that she’s half the reason why.
I go to Leighton, pulling her into my embrace, and hold her the same way I did last night. Her arms wrap around my middle, and her grip around me is firm.
“Dammit, I don’t want to go.”
Her grip tightens. “And I don’t want you to go.”
We move at the same time and the side of her face rubs against mine until our mouths are so close that I can feel the warmth of her breath on my skin.
I want to kiss her.
So. Fucking. Bad.
Her breath has increased and deepened. It’s much louder.
I think that she wants me, but I’m not used to this kind of thing: a woman who isn’t completely clear about what she’s willing to give. I’ve not had to read the signals in a long time, and it’s maddening. I wish she’d just come out and tell me what she wants.
The timing is all wrong. Today marks a fragile day for her. I can’t make out with her or toss her on the bed and fuck her fast and then walk away. But I also can’t leave without letting her know that I feel something happening between us. And that I want it very much.
I lace my fingers through the back of her hair and hold her tightly while I place a soft, sweet kiss against her mouth. She trembles and grips the back of my shirt, pulling me closer. Our mouths separate but are still so close that we’re sharing the same breath when I press my forehead to hers. “We will finish this when I come home.”
She nods. “I want that, Judd. Very much,” she whispers.
There it is. The confirmation I wanted to hear before I go. It somehow makes leaving easier because I know what will be waiting on me when I return.
I press one final kiss against her mouth. “I will see you in two months.”