Chapter Twenty-Eight Javier
Twenty-Eight
Javier
Octavia selected five books because, in her words, she did not “wanna be greedy.” Right after we checked out, she jumped to throw her arms around my neck and then kissed my cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear.
She did not know how much that small act meant to me. To feel appreciated for something. To feel wanted by a woman and cared for.
I tried my best not to think too much of it—she was simply thanking me—but it was hard not to think about it when she looked at me with those big, sparkling brown eyes.
Or when she bit her bottom lip.
Or when she stared at my mouth, like she wanted more than just a peck on the cheek.
After leaving the bookstore, Octavia somehow convinced me to stop at an ice cream parlor. This was a bad idea. Everyone knew not to feed a four-year-old ice cream with sprinkles at eight o’clock at night.
“I’ll tucker her out so she burns it off, I promise.” Octavia sat down at a table near the window, and I joined her.
“This is very hypocritical, you know?” I leaned back, watching as she handed Aleesa a cup with a vanilla scoop and sprinkles. “We literally just bought a book for her about eating less sugar. Plus, she had a lot of Catalina’s chocolate cake during dinner.”
I never thought that I would be the parent who was a stickler about sugar, yet here I was.
But honestly it was because Aleesa literally seemed to turn into some hyperactive gremlin when she consumed too much candy or sweets.
I am not even kidding. She would scream with excitement, get the zoomies, giggle hysterically, beg me to watch some random dance move that made absolutely no sense.
It was cute at first but became exhausting very quickly.
“I’ll wear her out and double brush her teeth. Will that help?” Octavia brought her spoon to her mouth and licked the fudge away. I didn’t dare look away as she did it.
“Are you trying to distract me from this topic by seducing me?”
“What?” she shrilled. I smirked. “You’re crazy. I’m simply enjoying my ice cream.” She gave the spoon another lick, this time curling her tongue around the top. My dick spasmed as I saw her pink tongue glide over the curve of the plastic.
“You are something else, Octavia Klein.”
“In a good or bad way?”
“I am not sure yet.”
“I hope it’s good.” She winked. “Leesa, how’s your ice cream, angel?”
“Mmm . . . it’s yummy,” my daughter answered. Then she cheesed hard to show us all the rainbow sprinkles stuck to her teeth.
“Yeah,” I scoffed. “Good luck brushing all of that out.”
Octavia giggled.
We’d finally made it back to the hotel, and sure enough, Octavia had tuckered Aleesa out. Before our ride showed up, she’d taken Aleesa outside the ice cream parlor, thrown her over her shoulder, and zoomed back and forth along the sidewalk. Aleesa squealed and giggled until she was breathless.
People probably thought Octavia was a little crazy for it, running around with a four-year-old, making airplane noises and all. It wouldn’t have been a method I’d use to calm Aleesa, but I appreciated it.
It was interesting to watch Octavia with Aleesa.
How she did things so differently from me yet produced the same result.
With her around, I realized maybe I didn’t have to be so controlling and overprotective.
Maybe I could learn to let some of that go .
. . if I could also learn to trust that there was still good in this world. Good people like her.
Aleesa was already rubbing her eyes during the car ride, but as soon as we reached the elevator of the hotel, she threw her hands up at me and begged to be picked up. Once her cheek rested on my shoulder, I knew she was a goner.
Octavia had gotten her washed up as quickly as she could, helped her into her pajamas, then laid her in the bed. Aleesa did not even need a bedtime story. She had been so deliriously sleepy that she had not fought it.
“She’s down for the night.” Octavia walked around the corner and entered the living room. “She snores like a grown man.”
“And you are sure that you want to share a bed with her?” I laughed.
“Ah, it’ll be all right.”
“You are very good with her, you know?”
“It’s nothing.” She waved a hand, as if it were no big deal.
“No, I am serious.” I sat on one of the barstools near the kitchen counter. “All of her previous nannies would look so drained after dealing with her. They could not really keep up with her energy. But you do, and you handle it well. If anything, it is Aleesa who cannot keep up with you.”
She laughed at that last statement. “I guess it’s just in my nature. I told you I love kids. I try to see the world through their lens. Everything is so big and new and exciting to them. It’s a beautiful thing, seeing so much hope and curiosity in their eyes.”
“Yes, well, I feel like I should be paying you more for all that you do. Those meals you make are always more than I expected.”
“Javier, please.” She walked my way, stopping at the barstool right next to mine. “I don’t need more money. What you give me is fine. Plus, you provide for the meals, so technically I’m not coming out of pocket for any of it.”
“But the meals are always so nourishing and detailed. Even down to your garnishes. That must be time consuming.”
She laughed. “Look at it this way: I love cooking, and you have a nice kitchen that I love making a mess in. It’s my pleasure.” She grinned as I nodded with a crooked smile. “So what should we do now?” She swept her gaze around the penthouse.
“What do you want to do?”
She gave the question some thought. “Honestly . . . I think I just want to decompress and read one of the books I bought. It’s been a long day.”
“I don’t see the harm in that.”
“Okay. Let me get comfortable first.”
She sauntered away, only to return about fifteen or so minutes later in a fresh set of pink pajamas with cupcakes on them. Her face was shinier, which meant she had probably washed it. Her locs were also now in a ponytail.
“Cute pajamas,” I said as she made her way to the paper bag full of books on the table. As she shuffled through it, I stared at her ass.
Did she take her panties off? Fuck me.
“What will you do?” she asked, carrying one of the books to the sofa. She curled up on one end while I cleared my throat and pretended I wasn’t just thinking about her with no panties on.
“I am going to have a drink.” I had requested that the hotel send up limes and tequila while we were out. I made my way to the minibar, grabbed a silver tequila, and carried it to the kitchen. I poured two glasses, mixed tequila with a splash of lime juice, and carried both toward her.
“For me?” She smiled, accepting the glass I offered. “Tequila is my favorite.”
“I know.”
She quirked a brow. “How do you know?”
“You were drinking it the night you had that date.”
“Oh—right. The date you so rudely interrupted. You know I will never let you live that down, right?”
Smiling, I walked away, but only to get a book out of the paper bag—one that I’d bought for myself. It was a self-help book on learning how to not give a fuck. According to Octavia, I needed to learn how to “chill out and let things be” sometimes. She swore reading this book would help me.
Returning to the sofa, I picked up her stretched-out legs and lifted them.
“Hey—” She started to protest, until I placed her legs on top of my lap and held on to one of her ankles. Her mouth clamped shut, and her eyes softened.
“Okay if I read too?” I asked.
She batted her lashes a few times, then fought a smile as she brought the rim of her glass tumbler to her lips. “Smooth move, Valdez.”
After a big sip, she placed the glass down on the coffee table, then settled into the sofa. It was cute watching her crack the book open with such a satisfied smile.
It was like reading brought her nothing but pure joy. I was not a big reader, but I did read a lot of parenting books, biographies, and sports articles. It was nice trying something new . . . with someone new.
A strange thought struck me. I realized I had never done this sort of thing with Eloise. We had never sat in peace and quiet, with nothing but the sound of turning pages and soft breaths.
Eloise was always active, always wanting to dance and sing and drink. She was full of energy and life, and I loved that about her because I was quiet and antisocial—she’d balanced us.
But this was nice too. I found myself mindlessly caressing the top of Octavia’s foot with the pad of my thumb. I studied her toenails, which were painted white. She had really cute toes.
Something Octavia had said earlier circled back in my mind.
She’d mentioned how she saw the world through Aleesa’s eyes.
Just like children, she enjoyed the simple things in life and cherished them.
She was not a woman who asked for much. She simply used what she had and flipped it into something grand.
Hell, she had made something as simple as lounging on a sofa and reading a book feel wholesome and monumental. For what felt like the first time, I could see life through her lens. I could see that peace was what she truly craved in life and holding on to that was important to her.
When I realized I was stroking her skin, I turned my gaze to hers. She was already looking at me.
“What?” I asked.
“This feels very . . . intimate,” she murmured.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know,” she replied in a soft voice. “Maybe not if I actually like it.” She studied my face for quite some time, then pulled her legs away so she could twist her body the other way and rest her head in my lap. I wrapped an arm over her as she exhaled and opened her book again to read.
“Javier?” she called after a few quiet minutes.
“?Sí, amor?”
“Thank you for making me feel safe.” Her voice was thick and didn’t sound like it normally did.
Wait.
I looked down at her. “Octavia, are you okay?”
She remained quiet.
“Octavia, look at me.”
She shook her head.
“Please.”