Cold hearted bastard, p.17
Cold Hearted Bastard, page 17
“A very good thing,” Jackson says.
“We’re biding our time, though.” I make my expression menacing. “We’ll get you yet, my pretty.”
She giggles, then looks back at the bowl again before gripping the spoon, but her hold is awkward.
Jackson reaches for her and adjusts her hands. “Try like this.”
She does, and she begins to mix, her tongue sticking out a little as she concentrates. It’s slow but the color begins to swirl.
I point to emerging lavender. “What do you think of that color?”
“A little more, please.”
I put in a few more drops of food dye and return to mixing my own bowls of color.
“You cook like Daddy?” Natalie asks.
“I do. Although not as much as I’d like to these days.”
“Why not?” Natalie stirs, slow and methodical.
“I own a restaurant so there’s a lot of things that need to be done besides cooking to take care of. I work all day and all night, so it’s hard to find time and it’s just me.”
Natalie glances up, and a sly expression crosses over her tiny features. “You could cook here, Daddy won’t mind.”
“Oh yeah?” I flash a smile at Jackson. “Will you let me touch your precious utensils?”
He gives me a long, heated once over. “Darlin’, you can touch my utensils any time.”
“See, I told you,” Natalie says.
I laugh and shake my head at him. “That was so bad.”
“You set me up, what was I supposed to do, ignore it?” His smile is devastating, making my heart gallop.
I don’t know if he’s aware of it or not, but that edge he had, the one that made him cold and remote unless he was inside me, is gone. He’s still a bastard, still impossible, but when he looks at me now, it’s with lust and warmth instead of lust and wariness.
“You could stay here and cook all the time, Gwen. We’d let you.” Natalie has stopped mixing to stare at me.
Jackson and I look away from each other.
Seven days. That’s all I have left. Seven measly little days.
“But who would take care of Gwen’s restaurant?” Jackson asks her, his voice thick.
“Who’s watching now?” She flutters her lashes at me, all coy and innocent.
She’s angling, and every time she does a stab of guilt tightens my belly. She’s the one casualty in this mess I can’t ignore. Jackson and I have tried to set her expectations. We’ve told her I’m only here for a visit, but my home is in Chicago. We’ve told her I’m leaving. When I’m leaving. How I’m leaving. We remind her, but she’s stubborn and keeps hinting I can stay if I want.
“I have a manager,” I say.
“Why can’t your manager keep doing the running and you stay here?” Natalie asks, the bowl on her lap forgotten.
I glance at Jackson, looking for guidance.
With a frown, he leans forward. “Nat, Gwen has a house and restaurant and family to go back to in Chicago. Remember, we’ve told you that. She has to go home.”
A week doesn’t seem like a long time, but to this girl, who’s surrounded by constant routine, I’m different and magical, and she doesn’t want it to end.
I can’t blame her. There’s something absolutely magical about the time I spend with the two of them. I don’t want it to end either. But it has to.
Natalie shrugs. “Okay.”
I smooth her golden hair. “I’ll miss you though. Maybe we can be pen pals.”
“What’s that?”
“We can write each other letters and send them in the mail.”
“That sounds fun.” She goes back to her mixing.
It’s something.
Jackson holds out a cookie in the shape a large circle. “What do you want me to make, Natalie?”
She looks at it, her expression thoughtful. “A puppy.”
He narrows his eyes on her. “You’re not getting a puppy.”
“Why not?” Natalie asks.
“We have horses, that’s enough.” The tone of Jackson’s voice says they’ve had this conversation before.
“But I can’t ride those horses they’re too wild.”
“You can’t ride a puppy either.”
“I want one, please, Daddy.”
“Uncle Wyatt’s allergic.”
Natalie sighs. “Can you still make me one?”
“I’ll make you one.” He gets up and walks to the drawer, pulling out a box and bringing it to the table. He opens it and I peer inside, it’s piping and icing tools.
I point to the supplies. “Can you really ice a dog?”
He winks at me. “I’m multitalented.”
“You’re also obnoxious.” I roll my eyes at him. I pick up a circle cookie of my own. “What should I draw?”
“A house,” she says with no hesitation.
“Seems doable.” Even I can manage that. I make a mean cut-out cookie, but my piping skills are complete shit. I’m guessing Jackson’s are as well and he’s bragging unnecessarily. Everyone knows great chefs don’t make great bakers.
I take the bowl from Natalie and quickly whip it to blend the rest of the color together before handing her a cookie. “What are you going to make?”
“A family,” she says in her little-girl voice.
My heart aches, but I nod. “Okay, go. We’ll all reveal at the end.”
We get to work and all start on our masterpieces, growing quiet as country music plays over the speakers built into the ceiling.
Fifteen minutes goes by before we’re all done. We hold up napkins to block our art, and with a whoosh I display my house. A simple square with a triangle roof and a door. I put a tree and some flowers. It’s cute but rudimentary.
Jackson studies it. “Finally something you suck at.”
“Hey! I object!” I stick my tongue out at him.
Natalie goes next. Her cookie has three smudgy stick figures—two with blonde hair and one with red.
My voice is tight when I speak. “That is excellent.”
“Do you like it, Daddy?” She holds it up for Jackson to see.
His expression turns troubled but he smiles. “It’s perfect.”
A heavy silence falls between us, thick and unspoken.
No matter what we say, we can’t stop Natalie from hoping.
She’s made us draw a complete little unit. A house, us as a family, and even a dog. It makes me sad.
“Let’s see yours,” Natalie says to Jackson, breaking the tension that had filled the table.
I shake off the mood and focus on this man who’s creating havoc in my life, making me question everything I’ve ever wanted and held dear in this world. I raise a brow. “Yeah, let’s see yours.”
He whisks away his napkin and I glare at him. “You jerk!”
He smirks.
I glare at the cookie, mocking me in its perfection. His scene is a bright blue background, with an adorable and detailed black-and-white puppy with a lopsided smile. The bastard even got cocky and completed the picture with a matching decorative border.
“You don’t like it?” Natalie asks, with a surprised expression. “He’s the best drawer in the house.”
“I do like it, very much.” I wrinkle my nose at her. “But sometimes it gets frustrating that your dad is good at everything, you know?”
“He is very good,” she agrees.
“She’s jealous, baby,” Jackson says.
“You’re ridiculous.” And before I can stop myself I pick up a pastry brush filled with vivid pink icing and flick my wrist.
Dots of fuchsia splatter across his face and shirt.
He stares at me, stunned. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Oh yeah, what are you going to do?” My voice is full of challenge.
He flicks his own brush at me, and blue icing flies in the air, hitting both Natalie and me.
I look at Natalie. “We have only one option.”
Natalie giggles. “What?”
I point at Jackson. “Get him!”
All hell breaks loose and the next thing I know we’re in the middle of an icing war. It covers the table, us, the floor and we’re all laughing so hard we can barely catch our breaths.
Jackson has me in a death hold, practically on the floor, and is smearing pink on my face as Natalie dumps a bowl right on his head.
“What in god’s name is going on in here?” We all freeze at the sound of Mrs. Potts’s voice.
We turn to see her and Wyatt standing in the double doors. But unlike the stern face of Mrs. Potts, Jackson’s brother’s expression is full of amusement.
In his slow drawl, Wyatt says, “Well, what do we have here? This place is a disaster.”
Mrs. Potts puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t think I’m going to clean this up.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jackson says, Easter-egg green dripping off his face and onto the floor.
Jackson, Natalie and I all look at each other and burst out in laughter.
Our own private little joke, just the three of us.
Jackson
“What are you going to do about that girl?” Beau asks me from behind the bar as Gwen moves around the tables, taking the last round of drinks for the night. We’d been short staffed and she’d offered to cover the shift.
Which works for me, the more time I see her the better.
I peer at her, watch the way she moves. Tonight her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, highlighting her cheekbones. She’s wearing the short shorts she had on the first night I met her, and a white tank top. She looks as incredible as ever, but no one would dare touch her now. Everyone knows she’s mine.
I can’t deny I like her claimed. Like that I’m the one doing it.
Without looking away, I ask, “What do you mean, do with her?”
Beau crosses his arms, studying her right along with me. “She’s leaving.”
The words tighten in my gut and sets my teeth on edge. I nod. “She’s leaving.”
This is the way it has to be, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. She has her life in Chicago and I have Natalie to take care of. I can make space for her for a couple weeks, but that’s it.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Natalie loves her.” Beau states the obvious.
We all had dinner together last night, like one big happy family. A feast Gwen and I prepared for everyone filled the farm table. We’d ate and drank and laughed, and a tiny part of me couldn’t help thinking it would be like this all the time if she was around.
She brought in life.
Beau doesn’t think I know my daughter loves her? That it doesn’t worry me constantly to watch Natalie hoping with the knowledge that it’s not going to end well. But that damage is done, and keeping her away from Gwen at this point isn’t going to matter.
I know what my family thinks. How they’re all watching Gwen and me, and secretly praying it’s going to work out between us. The sly hints Beau, Wyatt and Cat drop about the state of my happiness. Or the way Natalie stares up at Gwen with adoring eyes and hugs her too tight.
Like she doesn’t want to let her go.
I understand. None of them are anxious to watch me revert back to my normal self. And maybe I’m not all that anxious for it either.
All I can promise them is this time, they’ll have to find a way to make it enough. Like I’m trying to do.
“Stay out of it.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Beau gives me a sidelong glance. “I promised Wyatt and Cat I’d talk to you.”
I shake my head. “If they want to talk to me, they can do it themselves.”
Gwen comes up to the call station. I walk over to her; thankful to be away from Beau and the questions I have no answers to. The truth is, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I can’t walk away. All I’ve done is stop pretending that’s an option.
I smile at her. “What can I get you, darlin’?”
She beams at me, her blue eyes shining with electricity before rattling off a drink order.
I move around the bar, filling her tray, and when I’m done, I ask, “You ever been to New Orleans?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never made it there.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “I’ve been thinking about that date of ours, wanna take a drive down there? It’s only a couple hours away.”
Her expression lights up. “Really?”
I nod. “Sunday night, Beau and Tyler can cover, and the bar’s closed on Monday. We can stay over.” Now that she knows about Natalie and she spends all her free time at the house it feels like I’m never really alone with her.
Wyatt and Cat have walked in on us what feels like countless times while we’ve been on the couch, our mouths hot, our bodies straining. And when Natalie is awake, she’s always there between us.
I need Gwen to myself, if only for a night, just once, before she goes. If we come back Monday night, I’ll only have a few days left with her.
Then she’ll be gone for good.
Gwen bites her lower lip. “What about Natalie?”
“She’s got plenty of people that can watch her for a night.”
“What if she has a bad night?” Gwen’s concern for my daughter makes my heart beat fast. Natalie has had two bad nights since the day they met, neither was pleasant and Gwen got a crash course in her illness.
“If she’s really bad, Wyatt will call and we’ll come home, but they’ll handle it and Natalie will understand it’s just for one night.”
The word home hangs in the air. Our gazes meet.
Her lashes flutter a bit and she nods. “I’d love that. I’ve always wanted to go.”
I reach over and grab a fistful of her top and pull her close to me. “It’s a date.”
Then I kiss her, and like always, the world and all my troubles disappear.
19
Gwen
“You’re coming back, aren’t you?” Natalie clutches my hand, staring up at me with pitiful eyes as Jackson and I prepare to leave.
My heart breaks a little and I’m awash with guilt that I’m going away from her and taking her daddy along with me.
I lean down and hug her, wishing I felt only her body and not her chair. “Of course I’m coming back.” I kiss her cheek.
“Stop working her over, Nat.” Jackson’s voice behind me is stern.
I release her and glare at him.
He shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that? She’s the monster, not me.”
“Daddy, please,” Natalie says in that adult tone she has. “I’m not a monster.”
“You’re piling on the guilt, so you can knock it off, we’ll be home tomorrow night.”
“But it’s a whole day away,” she whines.
“You’ll survive.” Jackson crosses his arms over his broad chest.
Can’t he see she’s suffering? Before I can say anything his sister speaks up.
“We’ll keep you busy.” Cat puts her hand on Natalie’s chair.
Her face scrunches up and she wails, “You’re not Daddy and you’re not Gwen, I want them. Not you.”
“Hey,” Jackson says, his voice whipping through the air. “Knock it off and apologize to your aunt.”
Natalie pouts. “Sorry, Aunt Cat.”
She runs a hand over the little girl’s hair. “I promise we’ll have fun. You won’t even know they’re gone.”
Natalie’s lower lip quivers as though she’s about to cry. “What if I shake?”
Oh. My. God. I can’t stand it. It’s killing me. I turn to Jackson, mouth already open to suggest we can’t leave.
Before I can speak he says, “Don’t even pull that on me.”
How can he be so cruel?
“Uncle Wyatt and I will take care of you if you shake.” Cat waves at us. “You go ahead and go.”
I look helplessly down at Natalie. “I’ll be back in twenty-four hours.”
Her eyes well with tears and she says in a tiny voice, “Do you promise?”
“I promise,” I vow, hugging her tight again.
“For god’s sake.” Jackson’s tone is exasperated and he pulls me away and stands in front of Natalie. “Come on, give me a kiss goodbye.”
I will be having words with him in the car.
Cat smiles at me. “Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. She’ll survive, I promise.”
I feel a bit tearful myself, and I try not to think about what Friday will bring when I’m leaving for good. When I have to say goodbye forever.
I nod. “Okay, but you’ll call, right? If she needs anything?”
Cat touches my arm. “Of course I will, but she won’t need anything.”
I give Natalie another kiss goodbye while Jackson practically drags me away.
We settle into the car and make it down the driveway before I turn on him. “You didn’t have to be so mean.”
He rolls his eyes. “She’s playing you.”
“How can you say that? She’s five.”
“Because I know my daughter and she’s conning you.”
I huff, crossing my arms and jerking back into my seat. “She’s not a con artist.”
“Oh, believe me, she is.”
“So you’re saying she’s not upset we’re abandoning her?” I’ve never felt this before, this…unbelievable sense of guilt. Like I’m doing something terrible. Like she’ll never get over it.
Jackson laughs a little. “We’re not abandoning her, we’re taking a twenty-four-hour break. Cat will distract her, and she’ll be fine in fifteen minutes.”
I think on this, and although it doesn’t sit well with me, she is Jackson’s daughter and he knows her better than me. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me, she’s a good actress and she was trying to get to you.” He reaches over and takes my hand, pressing it to his lips. “I can’t blame her for angling to keep you for herself.”
His mouth is soft on my skin, and I shiver a little when his tongue flicks against the pulse at my wrist. He glances at me. “I need to be alone with you, Gwen. I need you all to myself for a bit.”
It’s the most revealing thing he’s ever said to me and I blink, wide eyed, before leaning over and scraping my teeth against his jaw. “That’s the bright spot, twenty-four hours alone.”
