Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos 2)

“No, this was for you.” Rising, she started walking toward his bed. “Are you coming?” she asked, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. It felt good to be the one leaving him speechless for once.

CHAPTER NINE

Snake

She was a fucking moonbeam—ethereal and impossible to grasp. Every time he

gave chase she eluded him, keeping her high walls up and side-stepping his attempts to take their relationship further. The cat-and-mouse game was old. Things were happening fast in his world. The house was purchased weeks ago, and they spent most of their free time filling it with furniture and decorations. He and the lawyer had written a letter which would be delivered to the Miles once he had all his shit together.

Best case scenario, they’d settle things out of court. Worse case, they’d drag the entire process out and burn up unnecessary amounts of money before he could claim Jocelyn. It was a small blessing that they’d kept her name. If they chose to fight him over custody, he couldn’t get into things half-assed. It gave him comfort knowing there had never been any misconduct reported. But he knew money was the ultimate silencer.

Another week and this place will be move-in ready. All the puzzle pieces were lining up. Except for Es. He’d promised her to go slow. After her delicious display of surprise oral, he’d refrained from pushing for more than heavy make out sessions. This ends tonight. He was going to claim what was his and show her that denial wouldn’t stop the process they’d set into motion. He needed his woman and his daughter together under one roof. Life was a winding road full of potholes that could derail you in an instant. After all the shit he’d been through he refused to accept anything less.

He studied himself in the mirror. In a grey sweater he paired with a leather jacket and his nicest pair of denims, he was a dressier version of himself. He’d tamed his hair, slicking it back from his face with styling pomade, and trimmed and oiled his beard. He was going all out tonight, flowers and dinner after they stopped by the Clover Gallery to see Enzo and Aibhlinn’s paintings. Plus, his goddaughter, Aoife, would be there. It was a sneaky way to introduce Es to the rest of his circle.

He was rusty at dating, but he remembered how to do it right. When he’d met his wife, Jade, he’d been clueless. She told him what she expected and told him to step up his game if he planned on keeping her. He’d adapted. It was one thing he was good at. Approving his look, he spun away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, grabbing the brightly-colored bouquet off the island in the kitchen. Tangerine, fuchsia, peach, and periwinkle blooms would brighten any girl’s day according to the florist. For the price he’d paid, they’d better.

Grabbing his keys, he headed to his bike. The chrome and black Dyna Super Glide was the only lady in his life for years. She’d seen him through the dark, lonely times. He secured the flowers in a saddle bag, and ran his hands over the bike’s curves. In a matter of months, she’d become his number two woman with Es and Jocelyn firmly in the number one slot.

He snickered. Never thought I’d be in this position again with an old lady and a kid. An image of a little girl with dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes startled him. The thought of Es round with his child and getting the opportunity stolen from her warmed him through. One step at a time. He climbed onto the bike, started up the engine, and took off.

Backing into the parking space, he set the kickstand down. This was new territory he was diving into. His plan to conquer could backfire if she shut down on him. Right now, he couldn’t afford that. She kept him sane and calm in the insanity surrounding him. He needed that voice of reason. Taking a deep breath, he got off the bike and took out the bouquet. He’d never been a half-in type of guy. All or nothing. At the very least, I’ll have the rest of the night to convince her. She’s too polite to bail on our date. Not that she’d call it that. A pang of sadness flowed through him. Her non commitment bothered him. He gave a small self-deprecating laugh. I’m turning into a sentimental sap in my old age. On the verge of forty, he was feeling every one of his years.

No man wanted to end up alone without a woman to love him and a legacy to keep him alive after they put him in the dirt. Es represented his last chance at the total package. If you’re listening up there, lead me to the right words and allow me to have this. I know I don’t deserve her. She’s way out of my league. But I will love and protect her until my last breath. The thought took the air from his lungs. Holy shit, I love her. Astonished, yet determined, he continued his walk to her door feeling like a zombie as he went into auto pilot. He knocked, and cleared his throat, cracking his neck to dissipate the nervous energy encompassing him like an unwelcome shroud.

The door opened, and he was struck dumb. The white two-piece hinted at her newly gained curves and nipped in at her waist. Bright blossoms similar to the ones in the bouquet were on her knee-length skirt and beige stripped tank top. A layer of something light and gauzy covered both articles of clothing. There was something tantalizing about the sheer sleeves. He wanted to run his tongue over it, to taste her skin and feel the texture.

“You look beautiful, Sprite.”

She smiled, and pink flooded her cheeks and the tips of what he’d dubbed elfin ears.

“Thanks. You look handsome, too.”

He thrust the flowers at her. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, these are gorgeous, Xavier. You didn’t have to—”

“Yeah, sweet girl, I did,” he said, swallowing to moisten his dry mouth.

“Come on in. I’ll put these in water,” she said.

He moved inside, admiring the way her curls caressed her shoulders. It was growing out again. His fingers twitched. He longed to bury his hands in her silken strands and inhale her scent. But he refrained. If he did that, they wouldn’t be leaving the house. Her movements were graceful as she retrieved a mason jar and trimmed the stems. There was a lightness present she hadn’t possessed when he first met her. Progress.

“We’re going to an art gallery?” she asked.

“Yeah, a few friends of mine are showing their work at the Clover Gallery tonight.”

“From the Club?” she asked, wrinkling her nose as she flashed him a look brimming with skepticism.

He laughed. “Nah. I have friends outside the club, too, Sprite.” The tips of her ears turned red, and he looked down to hide his smirk.

“Okay, I’m all ready,” she said, stepping away from the flowers she’d artfully arranged and placed on the kitchen table.

“You’re good at this decorating thing, Sprite.”

“It’s all the staging books and articles I’ve been reading for the house. I want to make sure you put your best foot forward if it comes to a custody battle,” she stated quietly.

His love for her grew.