27: Dropping the Gloves Page 10

  He didn’t have to say it, but I could read the words on his unimpressed face: What’s new?

  He rearranged himself in the corner of the couch, crossing an ankle to rest on his thigh.

  “I told her she was the reason I left.”

  “Bright.”

  Groaning, I scrubbed my hands over my face before pressing my palms to my mouth as I muttered, “Fuck.”

  “You are just one fuck up after another, aren’t you, Byrd?” Winski’s voice, surprisingly, didn’t hold the same edge of contempt it had before.

  “When it comes to Marlo?” I sat back and slapped my hands to my thighs. “Apparently.”

  “Marlo’s my friend.”

  I nodded, dropping my eyes to the wood floor.

  “I want her to be happy. You, Jordan, haven’t had the best track record on that front.” I opened my mouth but he held up a hand. “You came here, Byrd. So just shut the fuck up and listen.”

  Closing my mouth, I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

  “You know as well as I do—hell, probably better—the one thing that girl wants is family. In her mind, the two of you tried for a long time to get that dream, and in the end, you walked away. Then, fuck ups aside, you don’t even fly back to see Rori. Now, you’re back in town and you blow the fuck up seeing Marlo with her family—the family you left her with. Then what? You walk into her house and kiss and make up? Real life doesn’t work like that, Byrd. What the hell have you done to prove to her that you’re different?”

  I cocked my jaw but I had a feeling Winski wasn’t done.

  “Seeing your daughter a handful of times, having dinner with them, doesn’t count. Two weeks, versus five years. You need to do better than that. I watched Marlo put herself back together again, Jordan. She fought really fucking hard to be the strong woman you met a few weeks ago, and within days, you have her back to the unsure woman she was when you took her world and tore it apart.”

  “I’ve gone five years without them,” I finally managed to slip in. “I don’t want to go another five.”

  “What’s with the change of heart? You see them and decide you wanted them back?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve wanted her back a long time.”

  “Hell of a way to show it.”

  “I screwed up. I know that.” I hit my palm to my chest. “I own that. I fucked up, yes. But I couldn’t very well come crawling back to her, not even four months after the ink dried on the divorce papers. I hoped the feeling would go away.

  “I knew a trade was coming and fuck if I didn’t hope it would bring me back here. The moment Bernski pulled me into the office, I knew I was being traded and I just knew I was coming back here. It was my sign. My flashing neon lights in the sky, that it was time to make good on what I did wrong. Who I did wrong. Both Marlo and Rori. But I came back with a half-assed plan and I wasn’t expecting her to be so cold. It’s one thing to not have answered calls. It’s another when you realize the girl you’ve loved forever, changed. And that you’re the reason for it.”

  Winski nodded. “Yeah. You are.”

  “Look, I didn’t ask to come here for a pissing match,” I said, frustrated with Winski’s non-answers. I stood and made way for the door. “Thank you for looking out for her, but know that I’m going to do my damnedest to prove to her I can be that person for her again. I’d appreciate it if you and I can put everything else behind us.”

  Without waiting for his response—if he’d even give one—I stepped out into the black night.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marlo

  It took me a few days to work through all the anger from Jordan’s revelation. I did this, and I was that. Why the hell was everything my fault? What about him? What about his lack of understanding and caring, and his not fighting to help me get through it? Why was it all on me?

  I put the anger aside long enough to arrange for him to pick up Rori for a play date at the Prescotts, or for him to pick her up from school.

  Then there were other tiny changes.

  On Saturday, a pot of canna lilies was left on the porch while Rori and I ran errands.

  On Sunday, Jordan stopped by to take Rori for ice cream.

  I was glad that we were being cordial for the sake of Rori. We didn’t need the added stress of kissing.

  Of sex.

  But I was seeing changes in him.

  Tuesday brought a grocery delivery of just items I’d need for sugar&spice.

  I tried to send it back with the delivery driver, but he wouldn’t let me.

  By Friday, I had enough cookie orders come through for me to fill, I wouldn’t need to bake a single cookie for a month afterward to meet budget.

  He used a few aliases, but I knew the orders were Jordan’s doing.

  I planned on a baking bonanza on Monday while Rori was in school, saving the weekend for Rori-and-me time.

  Except, even that was foiled, when Jordan texted, saying the Prescotts were inviting us over.

  Immediately, I texted Sydney.

  What’s this that Jordan’s saying about us coming over?

  Thought bubbles appeared immediately, but quickly went away. Two more times, they showed up and disappeared before her response came through. He’s here now. The boys were asking where Rori was.

  The angel on my shoulder tried hard to keep me home.

  She reminded me of the words he told me.

  Just as the devil on my shoulder pointed out the things that appeared over the last week.

  What we went through hurt and the way he laid it all out, was heartbreaking. But it appeared that he was trying.

  That he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted us.

  If he changed his mind…

  I’d never trust him again.

  But to say that, meant that I trusted him now.

  …We were at the Prescott’s twenty minutes later.

  Jordan

  I was watching old game footage of Vegas with Caleb, prepping for the next day’s game.

  Trying to keep my mind off Marlo.

  It had been difficult keeping my space but I knew the words I told her would have burned badly. There were some things a guy didn’t tell his girl, and that her need to have a family, the miscarriages and the fight to get pregnant…that those were the reasons he ended up leaving?

  Not the right thing to do.

  I wasn’t any closer today than yesterday to winning her back, but I could only hope that she’d cooled off enough to at least listen.

  To have a conversation.

  After I shot Marlo a text to invite her over, I turned off my phone. I knew that that meant if she called, she’d be sent straight to voicemail.

  Just like old times, bastard.

  But I felt like a fucking pansy right now. Even when I asked her out in middle school, I wasn’t this damn nervous.

  If she doesn’t show up, she doesn’t show up.

  I’d just keep trying to prove to her I could be the guy for her.

  Besides, I really enjoyed my one-on-one time with Rori and while that was completely for my daughter and me, I wouldn’t be opposed to asking for time with Rori, a few hours every day, if it meant showing Marlo that I meant what I said—I wanted to be in their lives. Be it an hour a day, or twenty-four-seven.

  Ideally, twenty-four-seven, but I’d take one hour right now.

  “You staying for dinner? Throw something on the grill?” Caleb asked, as we were leaving the room he’d converted into a footage room.

  “It depends on—”

  Caleb just shook his head, a smirk on his face. “You’re putting a lot of effort into this, Byrd.”

  Caleb knew about the flowers and the deliveries—hell, the guys had enough cookies to keep the lights on in the weight room for weeks—so I didn’t bother to pretend I didn’t understand what he was talking about. “She’s worth it. They’re worth it.”

  “I can understand that.”

  I appreciated that he wasn’t on the firing squad. H
e could have been. Hell, he probably should have been, but I was glad he wasn’t.

  As we neared the kitchen, I could hear Sydney talking to the boys—Brandon was asking to go swimming. I tried to listen harder, listening for one of two voices…

  Two voices that were very much my world, even if I had a shitty way of showing it.

  “It’s heated,” I heard Sydney say. I could only assume she was talking to Marlo.

  My heartrate accelerated and when Cael and I walked into the large open space that housed both the kitchen and living room, I saw both my blonde-haired beauties.

  Rori saw me first. “Daddy!” she yelled, running for me. I bent enough to catch her as she ran, hardly breaking my own stride in walking.

  “Hey, sport.”

  “We’re going swimming!”

  “It’s like…barely sixty,” I said, my eyes cutting toward Marlo.

  I was a little surprised to find she was watching me.

  Making progress, Byrd.

  I could only hope.

  “It’s heated,” Marlo answered, repeating Sydney’s words in a strangely broken voice. She cleared her throat and shook her head, looking back to Sydney. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “You wanna go swimming?” Rori asked from her perch on my hip.

  “Maybe in a few weeks.” I grinned. “It’s cold, Rori.”

  “Not the pool though! It’s toasty warm.”

  Caleb chuckled as he pulled away from our walk. “I wouldn’t say it’s that warm.”

  I watched with envy as he moved to Sydney, leaning down to peck her lips once, twice, and then another time for fucking good measure.

  My eyes cut over to Marlo, who was looking down at the ground.

  I wondered if she was just as envious as I was, or if she was simply uncomfortable.

  Rori wiggled in my arms and I put her down. She raced over toward Brandon where, promptly, the two of them started to undress in a hurry.

  In the middle of the room.

  “Whoa. What…?” I frowned.

  My daughter was completely naked, as was Brandon Prescott.

  So not happening.

  “No.” I looked at Marlo, frowning. “Do we not do swimsuits?”

  I heard Caleb chuckle and I looked over, but he had his face buried in his wife’s hair.

  “They’re five, Jordan,” Marlo answered.

  “Yeah, but she’s a girl.”

  “They’re five,” was Marlo’s repeated answer.

  I opened my mouth but Caleb finally lifted his head. “Brandon knows it’s his last year of skinny dipping, don’t you, bud?”

  “What makes six the magic number?” I asked, confused and put off. “I don’t think Rori—”

  “Jordan,” Marlo cut me off. “I’m mom. I said it’s okay.”

  But I was a guy.

  And I was dad.

  I deserved an opinion.

  But when Marlo smiled at me, clearly amused, my opinion was lost on the wind.

  “They’re just swimming.”

  I cleared my throat, still caught off guard at her smile directed at me. Completely for me. “Okay.”

  I carried Rori to Marlo’s car, while Mar kept a quiet pace next to me.

  She opened the back door and I carefully set Rori inside, buckling her into the booster.

  I pressed a kiss to her forehead and even though she slept, I whispered, “Love you, Aurora Grace,” before closing the car door.

  I looked at Marlo, who hadn’t made a move to get in to the driver’s side yet.

  She stood there, watching me instead.

  “Thank you for coming,” I told her. There wasn’t any more than two feet between us, but I wasn’t sure if the distance was a great divide, or just a small jump. She was close enough to pull in, but far enough away that she could pull away.

  “Rori likes playing with the boys.”

  “Still. Thank you.”

  She nodded and gave me a small smile—not the same laughing one as earlier, but not a sad one either.

  “I’m sorry for the other—”

  “I think I’m read—”

  We both cut ourselves off, staring at one another in the dark.

  “You first,” I managed to say, even though my heart was racing. What was she starting to say?

  She shook her head, pinching her lips together before blowing out a breath. Cocking her head to the side, she looked up at me as she said, “You hurt me the other night, Jordan.”

  “God, I know,” I said apologetically. I hoped she felt how sorry I was for my words.

  She opened her mouth to say something and instantly, her eyes filled with tears.

  I’m a-hundred kinds of a heel.

  “Marlo,” I said softly, reaching for her. She willingly came into my arms, something I was afraid she’d fight, but she stepped right to me, her hands grasping my shirt and her head buried in the center of my chest.

  Even though she was crying into my chest, I could make out every word she uttered. “I shouldn’t give you the power to hurt me. Because that’s what this is. I gave you that power. I should have stood my ground. I should have stepped back. But damn it, I’ve missed you too.

  “I’m so stupid for wanting to let you back in. So, so stupid.”

  I bit my tongue to stop myself from refuting that statement. Marlo was the furthest thing from stupid. Instead, I squeezed her tighter and said into the top of her head, “I’m not going anywhere, Marlo. I made that mistake once. I’m not planning on doing it again. We can take our time. But know, I’m sticking around.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marlo

  I ended up inviting him over.

  I was fighting hard against that nay-sayer on my shoulder, trying to silence the negative words. Trying to give Jordan the benefit of doubt.

  Rori woke up as I’d been pulling her from her seat at the house. When we walked inside and she realized Jordan was right behind us, the girl was a ball of energy.

  I compromised with her—no bedtime yet if she’d sit still and watch a movie.

  She agreed, but only if Jordan and I sat with her.

  So now, the three of us sat on the couch, Rori on my lap while Jordan was close enough that our thighs touched.

  Tonight’s movie was The Secret Life of Pets, and even though she sat on my lap, every time a ‘scary part’ came up, Rori slowly reached for Jordan’s hand, linking the three of us completely.

  It was…sweet.

  Once the end credits began to roll, I tapped Rori’s knees. “Bath time, Rori girl.”

  She groaned, back arching in a stretch. “Mahhhhhma.”

  I pressed my smiling grin to her temple. “Say goodnight, Rore.”

  She slipped off my lap, rolling into Jordan’s. She wrapped her tiny arms around his massive neck, and when Jordan’s eyes met mine over her head, I was through.

  I was letting this happen.

  “Night, Daddy,” Rori said as she pushed away and off the couch.

  I stood, looking down at him, not sure how to request he stick around.

  I should have known better, though.

  He knew.

  With a single downward nod, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Alright, girlfriend, let’s do this.” I put my hand on the back of Rori’s head and ushered her toward the hall.

  “I want a shower,” Rori said as I closed the bathroom door behind us.

  Showers were quicker, so I was all for it. “Okay. Get naked.”

  Rori giggled and as she was working on her clothes, I adjusted the tub faucet to a good heat. After she stepped into the shower-tub combo, I reached for the removable showerhead as I pulled the diverter, rerouting the water.

  “I liked spending time with daddy today,” she said, facing the wall as I ran the water stream down her hair, my other hand working through her locks.

  “He did too, girly,” I murmured, pumping shampoo into my hand, single-handedly. Years of practice made me a pro at washing this g
irl’s hair.

  She tipped her head up as I worked shampoo through, keeping the shower stream on Rori’s back.

  “I like Daddy.”

  “He likes you, too.”

  “I want him to be here tomorrow.”

  “We’ll see, baby.”

  “Maybe dinner?”

  “He has a game tomorrow night.”

  “Oh. Maybe we can go?”

  “I think he’ll be out of town, Rore.”

  “Oh.”

  She was silent as I rinsed the shampoo from her hair, and as I started to work conditioner in, she did her part. “I’m washing my dirty bits, momma,” she said, echoing the words I often used when directing her.

  I grinned and just continued threading the conditioner through her ends.

  Quickly, we were finished and after a hair brushing and lotioning, Rori was tucked away in her bed.

  “Goodnight, momma,” she whispered, curling on her side.

  “Goodnight, Rori girl.”

  Closing her door quietly, I left her room and made my way back to the living room, where Jordan still sat, thumbing through a photo album I kept under the side table.

  I knew the pictures that were in it.

  “I fucking hate that I missed all of this,” he murmured, no doubt having heard me shuffle in.

  I rounded the couch and after the smallest of moments of hesitation, I took back my spot next to him. “What’s done is done, Jordan.”

  “I know.” He flipped the page; this one had pictures from Rori’s third birthday party. It was at the very indoor playground where we saw Jordan for the first time again. “It’s my own fault but that doesn’t make it any easier. I should have—”

  I reached out and placed my hand on top of his, my face turned to his, willing him to look at me. When he did, I squeezed my fingers around his hand. “It’s done. We both should have tried harder. I was hurt. Then you were hurt. And it spiraled out of control. It’s done,” I emphasized.

  His face was still on the pictures in front of him. “I have no right to ask you to try again.”

  “It’s my decision to make.”

  “Yeah, and two weeks ago, you were adamant about protecting yourself and our daughter.”

  I took my hand off his and reached for his face. “And right now, I’m adamant about the fact I believe we can work from here. We both know the importance of communication. We’re both wiser to our mistakes.”