Chapter 35 – Phoenix
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Friends and… more?
Phoenix
“No! I said more to the left,” Jordie orders with a scowl on her face. “Exactly like this but on the other side of the living room. And then move that coffee table out of here.”
She and my twin are moving one long table while Remi and I try to position the other to her exact specifications. Today is Reece’s fifth birthday, and my girlfriend has taken over like a professional party planner.
When we don’t move quickly enough, she sing-songs, “Now, Hale. We don’t have all day for dilly-dallying.”
“Bossy ass,” Remi mumbles. “Bro, are you sure she’s not secretly a drill sergeant?” He flew in for my daughter’s birthday party. In fact, he’s never missed a single one, despite living in London for most of them.
“She probably could be,” I reply, eyeballing her table and trying to mimic the angle. Then I eyeball Jordie’s ass in those tight jeans until I feel Remi’s gaze on the side of my face and jerk my eyes away. “Let’s move the coffee table now.”
We each take one side and lift the hefty furniture with dual grunts. “And why are we clearing out everything from your living room?” he asks.
Bumping open the door to the spare room with my butt, I back into the room. “Because Reece wanted a bouncy house, and it’s too cold outside, so Jordie located one made for indoors.” We set down the chunky table beside the couch we moved in there earlier.
Remi wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. “Should have just rented out one of those bounce house event places.”
I grimace. “Yeah, that was my fault. I had the bright idea to do the party here at the house and thought we could put the inflatable outside. I had no idea it was going to get this cold.”
My brother rests his ass on the arm of the couch and crosses his arm, brown eyes lasered onto me. “So what’s going on with you and Jordie?”
Completely avoiding his gaze, I rub my finger over a scratch on the wooden surface of the coffee table. “She’s going to help me out with Reece while Lorraine recovers from her surgery.”
When he doesn’t respond, I risk a glance up at him. “And is she helping Reece’s daddy with things of a more… personal nature?” The apprehensive lift of his dark eyebrows tells me he already knows the answer.
I blow out a sigh. “We’re keeping it on the down low for now. She’s got a lot of stress with football, and she doesn’t want all the scrutiny from the media.”
I expect him to judge me for the age gap. Or for sneaking around. Or for dating when I should be worried about being a father. But Remi surprises me with a simple yet unexpected question. “Does she make you happy?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Yes, she makes me happier than I could have imagined.” Then I rush to add, “But she never stays overnight when Reece is here. She stays on Tuesday nights and occasionally on a weekend if Reece is having a sleepover with someone in the family.”
Remi holds up both hands. “Dude. No need to get so defensive. I don’t care what you do in your own home.” He tilts his head and regards me with his brown gaze. “Is it serious?”
“Very, and that’s what worries me.” Exhaling a long breath, I shake my head and try to explain. “I feel selfish. I’m the only parent Reece has, and I don’t want her to feel like she has to share me with someone else.”
My brother offers me a soft smile. “A lot of kids have two parents, Phoenix. That doesn’t mean they receive less love and attention. It multiplies, not divides.”
The tight ball of tension I’ve been carrying around loosens a bit at that. “I haven’t thought of it like that. Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am. I can already see Reece adores Jordie, and it seems the feeling is mutual. The woman is facing her first Super Bowl this month, and yet she’s spending her Saturday organizing a five-year-old’s birthday party.”
My lips curve into a smile. “I didn’t even ask her to. Reece was rattling on about her birthday party when Jordie was having dinner with us one night. They started brainstorming, and it just took off from there. Now she’s collaborating with Mom.”
“Hmm,” Remington hums. “Any other concerns?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Jordie is very career driven. Like Beatrice was. I can’t say that doesn’t worry me a little bit.”
Remi lets out a disgusted snort and points toward the living room. “Brother, that woman in there is about the furthest thing from your ex I’ve ever seen. Could you even imagine Bitchy Bettencunt planning a child’s party?”
“No,” I admit, smiling a little at Remi’s nickname for my ex.
“Then chill the fuck out and be happy,” my brother retorts in his signature no-nonsense way. “It’s not like you’re out partying every weekend and bringing home a bunch of random women. You’re like freaking super dad. Have you ever introduced anyone to Reecie?”
Again, I answer with a no. “I just want to make sure I always prioritize my daughter. At the same time, I don’t want to be unfair to Jordie.”
My brother nods. “It’s something I think every parent deals with. Hell, every couple, whether they have kids or not. They have to deal with balancing work and family and relationship stuff. But if she’s worth it—”
“She is,” I cut in, my heart skipping a couple beats. “I think I’m in love with her.”
Remi’s face splits into a rare, full-on grin. “Hell yeah, man. Good for you.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Sounds like both my brothers have been bitten by the love bug.”
I chuckle. “Helix does seem pretty hooked on Nicolette. I think she’s perfect for him.”
He laughs. “Yeah, they’re both nerdy as fuck. They got into this whole discussion about neurotransmitters last night, and I had no clue what half of it meant.”
I lean closer to Remington. “I caught him scrolling through engagement rings online last week.”
My oldest brother lifts his eyebrows but nods. “Nice. As long as he wasn’t looking at Carlisle Jewelers.”
I wrinkle my nose because the Carlisles and the Hales do not get along. There’s been beef between our families for over a hundred years.
“Absolutely not. Now come on. Let’s go let Jordie boss us around some more.”
My brother trudges after me. “You should give her a whip in the bedroom. I bet she’d make a damn good dominatrix.”
We enter the living room to find workmen inflating the bouncy house. A squeal comes from the staircase, and we see Reece running down the steps in black leggings and a long purple frilly top, my mother hot on her heels.
“Reece honey, slow down!” Mom calls, shaking her head at her granddaughter’s exuberance.
My kid ignores the warning, of course, and jumps from the third step, giving me about five heart attacks in the process. Thankfully, she lands safely on her feet and dashes to Jordie, who picks her up.
“Well, don’t you look cute, sweetpea?” The two hug, making my heart race faster, this time with love instead of worry that my daughter would end up with a broken leg on her birthday.
Mom approaches and gives Jordie a kiss on the cheek before tugging at one of Reece’s purple canvas tennis shoes, which are adorned with tiny rhinestones on the seams.
“Wherever did you find these darling shoes, Jordie?”
“At that little shoe store in Rice Village. Reece picked them out all by herself, didn’t you?”
She boops my little girl’s nose, and Remi elbows me, muttering, “Yeah, definitely not Bitchy Bettencunt.”
Reece’s eyes go to the inflatable, and her gaze widens as it rises almost to the top of my vaulted ceiling. “Is that a dragon?”
“Of course it is,” Jordie scoffs. “This is a dragon-themed party. Did you think I’d make you jump around in a clown’s head?”
That sends my little girl into a fit of giggles, which makes my jaw ache from the smile spreading across my face.
A few minutes later, I find my mother in the kitchen, placing the cake she bought on a platter.
“This is so cute,” I say, turning the plate to see all the adorable dragons around the perimeter.
“Isn’t it? I got it at Whisk & Whimsy. Clarissa made it herself.”
“Clarissa.” I roll the name through my mental Rolodex. “That’s one of the ladies from the women’s shelter?”
Mom beams. “That’s her. I just love that the center helped her go to culinary school and then provided her with the resources to open her own bakery.” She smiles proudly. “She’s really thriving now.”
I loop an arm around my mother’s neck and plant a wet kiss on her cheek. I love the crap out of this woman.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Oh, I do what I can,” she says humbly.
“Mom, you literally started that entire shelter to help women in abusive relationships.”
“I had a lot of help,” she argues, and then her smile falters. “I wanted to do something to honor my sister. She was always so smart except when it came to choosing men.”
I pull her into my arms and wrap her in a hug. “You still miss Aunt Bev, don’t you?”
She nods and sniffles once before pulling away and lifting her chin. “Enough about all that. This is a happy occasion. Our little girl is half a decade old today.”
“That doesn’t make me feel old at all,” I say wryly.
Mom arranges some cookies on another plate. They’re individually wrapped dragon-shaped treats with intricate royal icing.
“I sure do like that Jordie. She’s a real go-getter.” She points at the fridge. “Grab the juice boxes out of there and put them in the cooler, please.”
I do as I’m directed. “She’s pretty great.”
Mom is silent for a beat before her voice grows brighter. “You know, I just thought of something.” I recognize her fake tone that tells me whatever she’s about to say is not, in fact, something she just thought of. “You should ask Jordie on a date.”
Fumbling the handful of juice boxes, I manage to catch them before they hit the floor. “Y-you think I should ask Jordie out?”
“Sure. Why not?”
I arrange the juice boxes in the cooler with way more care than is strictly necessary. “She’s a lot younger than me.”
My mother blows out a raspberry. “Pffft. Who cares?”
“Society?” I quip. And Jordie’s hockey-playing brothers, I don’t add.