CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
My heart skips a beat at hearing her call me by my real name. Ever since she learned it yesterday, she’s refused to call me Foxy.
It was strange at first because nobody calls me that except my brother when he's trying to scold me like a five-year-old.
Panda, who had been exploring the yard, scurries toward Saylor, chittering excitedly. She scoops him up, giggling as he nuzzles against her.
“Hey, princess,” Tacoma calls, his face lighting up at the sight of his daughter. “Did you have fun at Gigi and Pop’s house?”
“Uh-huh!” She bounds up the deck steps, Panda propped up on her hip like a baby. “Gigi made pancakes with chocolate chips!”
Jagger follows her up, his hands shoved in his pockets. He leans against the railing, his eyes moving between me and his father, taking in Tacoma’s hand on my knee.
“Hey,” he says, his expression neutral.
“Hey, buddy,” Tacoma replies. “Everything good?”
Jagger shrugs. “Yeah. Pop took me out on the boat. Caught a couple of Groupers.”
“Nice.” Tacoma nods approvingly.
Saylor plops down beside me, leaning into my side like she belongs here. Panda immediately jumps onto my neck and reaches his greedy hands out for my necklace.
“Are you staying in Odin for a while?” Jagger asks suddenly, his eyes fixed on me.
I recognize the look in his eyes immediately.
It’s one I saw in the mirror a lot when I was growing up.
That hope that people will stick around, but the experience of knowing that they usually don’t.
My heart hurts for him.
He’s been through a lot in his sixteen years.
His dad getting locked up for five years, his mom being absent once Tacoma got out.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be here,” I tell him honestly, not wanting to lie. The last thing he needs is more broken promises. “But for a while, at least.”
The tension in Jagger’s shoulders eases slightly, and he nods. “Cool.”
Saylor reaches out and traces her finger along one of the tattoos on my arm. “What are these flowers?”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “They’re lotus flowers.” I drag my finger up the stem to the pink petals. “They grow in the mud, but they’re resilient. They push through the surface and still turn out beautiful. It reminds me that good things can come from bad situations.”
She looks up at me with those big blue eyes, so much like her father’s. “I want a tattoo.”
Tacoma’s eyes widen in alarm. “Not until you’re thirty, princess.”
“That’s what you said about boyfriends,” she pouts.
“And I meant that too,” he replies instantly.
Sitting on the couch beside Tacoma, his arm draped over my shoulders, hugging me against his side, I can't help but marvel at how quickly I've fallen into this routine.
It’s so domestic. Like we’re a family.
Especially with Saylor lying with her head in my lap, eyes glued to Stranger Things playing on the TV while I run my fingers through her silky hair.
We’ve been rewatching “their favorite show,” according to Saylor, for the last three days. With the first chapter of the new season dropping on November 26th, “we gotta watch it again so we remember what’s going on.”
Those were Saylor’s exact words.
I smile, thinking about how crazy the Benson family is about their Stranger Things.
It’s adorable.
Tacoma kisses the top of my hair, and I look up at him.
My heart flutters at how handsome he is.
He’s not what I expected at all.
Outside these walls, he’s strong and steady, everything his men need him to be.
But here, he’s just a regular dad, taking care of his kids. There are football practices and dance recitals, and he’s there for it all.
Like a punch to the gut, I’m hit with a sudden realization.
I’m in love.
This is love.
I’m in love with Tacoma Benson.
I glance down at Saylor, then out the window, where Jagger is working on a school project in my RV.
I’m in love with them too.
A man and his amazing kids that I’ve known for less than a week.
Panic rises in my throat, and I have to force myself to take a steady breath.
This is insane.
It’s too fast.
What am I doing?
Before I can spiral too deep into my head and have a major mental breakdown, the episode ends, and Tacoma shifts beside me.
“Time for bed, Say,” he says in his dad voice that I’ve learned means don’t give me any lip. “You’ve got school tomorrow.”
Saylor lifts up from my lap. “Aww. Do I have to?” she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can’t we watch one more?”
Her father rolls his eyes. “Yes. You do. You know the rules, Saylor Ann.”
“Fine.” She groans, then gives me a hopeful stare. “Can Panda sleep with me again?”
I grin. “If it’s okay with your daddy.”
Saylor turns her gorgeous blues on her father and sticks out her bottom lip.
I can barely keep from laughing.
The kid is a con artist with her father, and now she’s pulling out the big guns.
He shakes his head with a grin on his face. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”
Saylor scrunches her brows. “That’s not nice, daddy.”
“Yes, princess. Panda can sleep with you again.”
I cover my smile with my hand. I knew he’d cave.
“Yay!” Saylor jumps off the couch and shakes her little booty. The kid is too stinking cute for words.
“Sucker,” I mutter under my breath.
Hearing me, he turns his deep blues on me, and they darken.
Oh boy.
I lick my lips. He’s going to make me pay for that, and I can’t wait.
Turning back to his baby girl, he gives her her marching orders, “Go put your pajamas on and brush your teeth, and I’ll come up and tuck you in.”
I climb off the couch. “I’ll go tell Jagger it’s time to come in.”
After the first night Tacoma and I spent together, I tried to go back to my RV because I didn’t want to confuse his kids, but Tacoma wasn’t having it.
He had a prospect park my rig next to his house, insisting that he wanted me in his bed, and that’s where I was going to be.
His kids would have to get on board or get over it.
I knew this was a big deal because he has consistently shown me how protective he is of his children.
This isn’t just a fling for him.
And admittedly, that scares the shit out of me a little bit because being here feels right.
It’s the first time in a long time that somewhere has felt like home.
“You all right, baby?”
I shake off my thoughts and force a smile. “Yeah, just tired.”
Before I can take a step toward the door, Tacoma grabs my hand and tugs.
“Ack!” I squawk, falling into his lap.
Tacoma pulls me close, and my breath catches when I see the look in his eyes.
It’s the same one I see every time I look in the mirror—the look of someone who’s loved up and often.
“Hi.” I bite my lip.
He pulls me closer and uses his free hand to tug my lip free. Then he kisses me soft and slow.
When he pulls back, his eyes dart back and forth to mine. “Hi, Angel,” he whispers against my mouth.
He pecks another kiss on my mouth, then rises from the couch with me pressed to his chest. “Go get the boy, baby. I’ll make sure Say didn’t get sidetracked.”
I nod, still feeling a little dazed.
His lips tip up at the corner. “Gonna make it?”
Shaking off the kiss-drunk feeling, I blow out a breath. “I sure hope so.”
Chuckling, Tacoma swats my bottom to get me moving and heads for the stairs.
Good lord in heaven, that man is lethal.
With a head full of crazy thoughts about staying here forever and a belly full of butterflies, I head outside to the RV.
I find Jagger sprawled on the couch, headphones on, playing some game on his phone. I knock on the side of the door to get his attention.
He pulls off his headphones. “What’s up?”
“Your dad says it’s time to come in,” I tell him. “School tomorrow.”
He sighs dramatically but gets up without argument and turns off the TV.
As we walk back to the house, he’s quiet, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence.
At the door, he pauses. “Thanks for being cool to Saylor. She really likes you.”
The simple statement catches me off guard. “I really like her too. And you.”
He gives me an awkward, one-armed hug, and my eyebrows hit my hairline.
Holy cow.
I can’t explain it, but I know in my heart of hearts that this is huge for him.
“Night, Cali.”
I wrap my arm around him and give a little squeeze. “Goodnight, Jagger,” I reply, fighting the unexpected tears as he heads inside and up to his room.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m never emotional.
Shaking off the flood of emotions, I head upstairs and find Tacoma already in Saylor’s room, sitting on the edge of her bed.
She’s already tucked in with Panda curled up beside her on the pillow.
Can they be any cuter?
“Cali!” she exclaims when she sees me. “Daddy’s gonna read me a story. Will you listen too?”
“Sure, sweetie,” I say, moving to sit on the other side of her bed.
Tacoma picks up a well-worn copy of The Paper Bag Princess and begins to read. His deep voice is soothing, and I watch as Saylor’s eyes grow heavy.
By the time he finishes the story, she’s fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Daddy?” she asks sleepily.
“Yes, princess?”
“Is Cali your girlfriend?”
Uhh... Eyes feeling like they’re going to pop out of my head, I bite my lip, completely caught off guard by the question.
Tacoma’s eyes meet mine, and he smirks before turning back to his baby girl.
“Yes, Say. Cali is my girlfriend.”
My heart somersaults in my chest.
It’s such a juvenile term—girlfriend—but hearing him say it out loud makes me feel all warm and gooey inside.
“Good,” Saylor mumbles, her eyes finally closing. “I like her.”
I close my eyes, fighting back another wave of tears that threaten to fall.
This little, beautiful nugget. She has no idea what that means to me.
“Me too, baby,” Tacoma says softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams.”
Opening my eyes, I find Tacoma staring at me.
He motions to the door, signaling it’s time for us to get out of here.
Right.
I kiss the top of her head, give Panda a scratch, and rise from the bed.
The second he closes her door, he crowds me against the wall, his body pressing into mine as his mouth captures my lips in a fiery kiss.
“Tacoma,” I whisper against his lips, “we shouldn’t do this out here. What if the kids see?”
His eyes are dark with desire when he pulls back just enough to look at me. “The kids are in bed,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “And I need to taste you.”
His hand slides up under my shirt, palming my breast, and I arch into his touch despite my protests. “We should go to your room,” I insist weakly.
He grins, wicked and promising. “Yeah.”
His mouth crashes down on mine again, and I surrender to the heat building between us as he grips my thighs and hoists me up his body.
Wrapping my legs around his back, I lock my ankles and hold on tight.
God, I could get used to this.
To him.
To his kids.
To this life.