“Milka? Milka, baby, please take your fingers out of your nose.” I sighed and reached forward to dislodge them.She screamed and smacked the sofa. “No!” She immediately shoved them back up.“Milka hudson!” I pulled them out. “Do it again and you’re on the naughty step!”She stared at me defiantly and shoved two fingers of her other hand back in her nose.“That’s it. On the step.” I removed her fingers for the hundredth time today and lifted her by her armpits.I deposited her on the step and set the timer. I left it on the counter and went back into the front room, dropping to the sofa with a heavy sigh and rubbing my temples.Three days of this back-and-forth thing with Conor was driving me mad. Not only did I miss him ridiculously, Milka did, too, and she was making it known with bad behavior. Three hours of sleep last night had left my patience paper-thin, and I was ready to leave her in her crib and let her scream it out.She was screaming on the step, so it was not like there’ll
Hopefully.I stood slowly and tiptoed into her room, dipping to grab her bunny off my bed. I eased her into her crib, holding in my exhale when she went down without stirring. I spinned on my toes and started her CD player, letting Conor’s voice fill the room, and back out slowly.Slowly and silently.I pulled the door shut behind me, but before it even clicked, she screamed.I yanked it towards me anyway and rested my forehead against the door. “Please, Milka,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “Mama needs sleep.”“No, no! Dadda, Mama, Dadda!” she sobbed.I thumped the door with my forehead in annoyance because, goddammit, now I was exhausted and crying.And I gave up. I absolutely gave up.I walked into my room, grabbed my phone from under my pillow, and dialed Conor’s number. I pressed Redial until he picked up.“Hello?” he groaned groggily.“Conor?”“Chloe? What’s wrong?”“She won’t sleep,” I said thickly. “She’s been up all night, crying for you. I can’t . . .”I pinched the b
“Respect and forgiveness don’t always go hand in hand. I understand.” I covered his hand with mine. “I wouldn’t forgive me or respect me, you know?”“But I do.” He tightened his grip on me slightly. “I do respect you. Shit, how many times have you done a night like that since she was born? How many times have you held her while she cried or taught her a new word? How many times has she screamed your name because she needed you, huh?”I shrugged a shoulder and averted my eyes.“Milka is amazing—strong-willed, yes, but amazing—and that’s because of you.” He tugged my face so I had to look at him again. “You. It doesn’t matter what you did, because what you’ve done since makes me respect you.”“Then at least hate me. C’mon, you gotta give me somethin’ I want.”“Never.” He lowered his face to mine and brushed his nose along mine. “I can’t hate you, Chloe. I tried. I tried so fucking hard, but I love you too damn much.”“It would be easier if you didn’t.”“Oh, yeah.” He pulled back, runnin
“Whoa, what did I do?” Chloe exclaimed.“Not you! Her!” My sister practically growled and shoved the magazine at us.I took it and looked at the article. It was the one about us, the one confirming Chloe as my “baby mama.” I scanned it and looked for the part where it says who they interviewed.“Son of a bitch!” Chloe shrieked. “I told you!”“Mama bad! Bad!” Milka cried.Chloe slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Mama forgot.”Dad came in then and stole Milka from Aiden. “Sand?” he said, and Milka suddenly forgot about Chloe’s slipup.Chloe watched as Dad grabbed the bucket and shovel from the kitchen cabinet and disappeared outside. No sooner had the back door shut than she blew up at Aiden.“I swear, Aiden, if you ever sleep with that girl again, I’m going to personally carve your balls off with a plastic picnic knife!” Chloe shoved his shoulder. “Hell, you speak to her, and I’ll do it. She can fuck with me, but she doesn’t get to play games with my daughter.”If I thought she was
And now, looking at Chloe, watching her stare out of the window to where Milka was playing with Dad on the beach, I wondered if there was going to be a romance to go along with that scandal at all.************** ******************* *************** *******************Chloe’s head poped up in the tree house. She gave me a weak smile and climbed up, then sat next to me. She stared out of the window to where Milka was playing on the beach.Our daughter was running circles around my family on the sand. Bray already had to go change clothes because he underestimated the splash power of a toddler in the shallows.At least that put a smile on Chloe’s face. She had been stone-faced since that morning, her stare scarily intense. I didn’t blame her. I could practically taste the fear radiating off her. I could see the uncertainty whenever she moved, because her hands trembled, like she was freezing and couldn’t warm up.I rested my arm over her shoulders and snatched up her hand. Her fingers s
He nodded. “Just as much. We’ll just do what we said. Keep Milka at our house tonight, then try and sneak her back through the woods tomorrow.”Yeah. That insane idea.“Great,” I mumbled into my hand.Another night alone in the house didn’t appeal to me. It was too big, too creaky, too full of memories. I didn’t want to be there alone, not for a second. But I didn’t have a choice, it seemed.“Hey, you don’t have to leave her, y’know?”“Yeah? And where am I going to sleep?” I raised my eyebrows.“Well . . .”I looked at him flatly. “In your bed, really?”“I was goin’ to say Leah’s room.”“Sure. I believe you.” I turned away, ignoring the spark of desire that ignited in my lower stomach.“Geez, a guy thinks with his dick for five seconds and it’s wrong.”“Inappropriate! Not wrong.”“So you’re sayin’ I can think of you naked?”“Like you need my permission!” I snapped.“The shorts don’t help,” he admitted. “I try not to, but it’s hard.”“Oh, I bet it is.” I folded my arms across my chest
“You don’t have any jiggly bits.”“Yes, I do. I have jiggly bits and stretch marks.” I grabbed some of Milka’s clothes out of Dad’s drawers.“It didn’t bother you when I was carrying you up the damn stairs not so long ago.”“It was dark,” I offered lamely. That, and I was too consumed by him to think about the flub for even a second. “My body’s not perfect, and it’s sure as hell not what you’re used to.”“You think I care about perfect?” He sounded half angry and half confused.“I do,” I said softly.I swallowed and grabbed Milka’s bag. Conor stepped up behind me, grasping my hips, and pulled me back. I could feel his dick, hard, digging into my back, and his breath cascaded over my neck.He ran his hands up my sides, following the curve of my waist, and back down. He slid them around to my stomach. I inhaled but he didn’t falter. His hands eased up my stomach, hovering just below my breasts, then fell back down.“You’re right,” he whispered huskily in my ear. “I do care about perfect
People say a little of something is better than a lot of nothing.They’re wrong. They’re so fucking wrong it’s unbelievable.A little of Chloe wasn’t better than none of her. It was the worst kind of torture, because a little always leaves you wanting more.A little of her, her lips across mine, her fingers digging into my skin, her legs around my waist, was worse than if she’d shoved me off her and told me she didn’t want me.If I hadn’t had her beneath me earlier, curled around me, making those tiny, happy noises into my mouth, I wouldn’t be burning with the urge to touch her and finish what we started.My fingers wouldn’t be twitching with the intense urge to rip her shirt over her head and see that so-called imperfect stomach. I wouldn’t be dying to run my lips over her breasts and down her body to her hips. I wouldn’t be so fucking desperate to pull those shorts down her legs along with her underwear and tease her until she’s wet and ready for me.I wouldn’t be so fucking turned