Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jaxon glanced around the room, taking in every detail.
The house was small but tidy. Cozy. It was the perfect place for Adalyn and the baby.
The neighbors obviously watched out for one another, though Adalyn could certainly use more security.
He hadn’t seen an alarm at all when they’d entered the house, nor did he see one by the door off the kitchen, where he assumed the garage was located.
“I’ll be home the rest of the day,” Adalyn said to the neighbor, “so you can go home if you’d like.”
Jaxon didn’t miss Adalyn shuffling nervously in his peripheral vision. Wendy studied them with speculation, a sly look entering her eyes. She probably thought they were eager to be alone. Poor old woman. If she only knew.
“Of course.” Wendy smiled. “You have a lot of catching up to do.”
That was an understatement if he’d ever heard one. Still, he pasted on a polite smile as the woman made her way to the sliding door.
Wendy slipped outside with one last little smile, and Jaxon turned his attention to the baby in the living room.
A combination of fear and awe gripped him as he stared down at a tiny version of himself.
With hair so blonde it was almost white, and a fair complexion that made those gray-blue eyes stand out, she was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.
“I can’t believe how much she looks like me,” he said.
“Yeah. I know.” Was that disappointment in Adalyn's voice?
He couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into his tone. “I should’ve known.”
He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but being there, seeing his daughter in her element, pissed him off all over again. He had a kid. She was his, yet he didn’t know a single thing about her.
Beside him, Adalyn stiffened, her chin jerking up, her eyes going flat and cold.
He should want her to feel bad; he should want to hurt her for keeping his daughter from him.
Instead, he regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth.
He wanted her to feel guilty, but he didn’t want to cause her pain.
He couldn’t reconcile his emotions. Part of him was still angry—furious, in fact. At the same time, he was completely awestruck that they’d made something so beautiful, so precious.
As if she knew Adalyn and Jaxon were talking about her, his daughter turned those big eyes on him, and his heart thudded to a stop in his chest. Was it possible to fall in love in a single moment, with a single glance?
Because he knew, right that second, that this little girl already had him wrapped around her finger.
Amid the toys and blocks she’d been playing with, she picked up a stuffed elephant and toddled toward him. Did she recognize him from yesterday? He sucked in a breath as she stopped directly in front of him and held her arms up. He’d held her before, but somehow this was vastly different.
It felt like a momentous occasion was occurring between the two of them, though she was too young to know it. Bending down, he slipped his hands around her tiny body and lifted her to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder for a second, and warmth spread through his chest.
Adalyn watched silently. Her eyes were slightly misty, though she quickly blinked the moisture away.
Something flitted across her expression before he could tell exactly what it was.
He wished he could tell what was going through that mind of hers.
As if she knew she was giving too much away, she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. He wasn’t stupid. This couldn’t be easy for her either.
The baby squirmed in his arms and held the small gray elephant up for his inspection.
She chattered in her childish gibberish, and a broad smile wreathed his face.
Her little body wiggled again, demanding to get down, and he set her on her feet.
The moment those tiny toes touched the ground, she bolted away again, back to her toys.
He turned to Adalyn. “She’s so small. I didn’t expect her to be so…”
“Mobile?” Adalyn let out a small laugh. “She started walking at nine months and hasn’t stopped since. She must get that from your side, because I didn’t walk until I was well over a year old.”
He absorbed that, mentally doing the math in his head. “So she’s almost one?”
A soft smile curved her mouth. “Her birthday’s next month—the eighth.”
Her smile dissolved as he stared at her.
There was so much between them, so many things that needed to be hashed out, but he couldn’t think of a single one of them right now with her in front of him.
Just as beautiful as she’d been two years ago, she stopped him in his tracks.
Even when he’d been overseas, she filled his dreams. They’d had a connection once—he knew he hadn’t imagined that.
He’d thought he’d lost her, but in a strange twist of fate, they were now tethered together for life.
His heart softened just the tiniest bit toward her.
The anger was still there, the faint sting of betrayal, but now lust overrode the other emotions.
His fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch her face.
A lock of nearly black hair had fallen across her cheek, and he wanted to brush it away, tuck it behind her ear.
In the end, he did none of those things.
He’d been hoping to win her over again, but knowing he had a little girl changed things.
If Adalyn still wanted an annulment, he would grant it to her.
No matter what happened between them, the only truly important thing now was their daughter.
He wanted to make sure she grew up knowing that she was loved and cherished, and he planned to start right now.
Moving toward the living room, he ventured closer.
The baby’s head snapped up as she watched him curiously.
He knelt and handed her a block; giant gray eyes met his before she reached out and took it from his fingers, then placed it at the top of her tower.
They continued like that for several minutes until she lost interest in the blocks and toddled off to find something else.
A smile curved his mouth, and he winked at Adalyn as she maneuvered around the couch and sat watching them. Once again, he wished he could read her mind. Her face was a mixture of emotion, but he’d be lying if he didn’t see the sadness deep in those eyes.
Was she worried that he would leave again, or was she concerned, like she stated yesterday, that he would try to take their daughter away from her?
He’d been upset—understandably—but he deeply regretted his words.
He would never be selfish enough to try to split up mother and daughter.
He said things he shouldn’t have in the heat of the moment, and he owed Adalyn an apology for that.
But not now. He’d save that for later, when it was just her and him.
He thought back to the emails she’d sent more than a year ago. Maybe Adalyn really would’ve told him. He’d never know. The important thing now was their daughter; from now on, he was going to be involved in her life as much as possible. He was here to stay—whether Adalyn liked it or not.