Under My Skin (Stark International Trilogy 3)

“You can’t push me away because of this investigation. Not unless you want me to slap you again.”

I’m rewarded with a wry smile. “I get that,” he says. “But I’m not just talking about the murder. It’s Ronnie, too. I don’t like you seeing me flounder.”

“Flounder?” I think about how good he is with her—so naturally comfortable in a way I can’t even fathom—and am genuinely baffled.

“What the hell do I know about being a father? God knows mine was no role model.”

“You’re amazing with her,” I say, and though I’m being a hundred percent honest, I do understand what he means. Children have never been on my radar for exactly that reason—my parents screwed me up so much that I’m not sure I have a decent parenting bone in me.

“She’s the one who’s amazing,” he says. “But that’s not even what I mean. It’s like every decision is a test, and the wrong answer could mess up her life. Do I step in as her dad? Do I continue as an uncle? Do I leave her with Betty? There’s an infinite number of choices at every juncture and then a whole new set of choices after that. And there’s no way of knowing if I’m following the right path.”

“You think the fact that you’re struggling means you’ll be a bad father? It’s just the opposite, Jackson. Don’t you see? It matters so much to you—hell, it’s consuming you—and every step you’re taking is with her best interest in mind. That’s the definition of a good father, Jackson. You and I know that better than anyone.” I offer him a small smile and a gentle kiss on his cheek. “It’s pretty sexy, actually.”

He doesn’t laugh, but the tension in his face relaxes a bit.

“You’re doing the right thing for Ronnie,” I insist. “The best thing. You’re focusing on Ronnie because you want her life to be better. Because you love her. Leaving her with Betty isn’t a mistake. It’s a choice, and it’s the right one.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t made other mistakes. And I’m afraid that I’m going to have to pay for them sooner rather than later. I’m afraid Ronnie’s going to pay, too. And Syl,” he says, sliding his fingers through my hair to cup the back of my head as he looks deep into my eyes, “I’m afraid that you’re going to pay as well. I’m afraid you already are.”

“No.” I say the word fiercely, as if I can erase the shadows from his eyes simply by the force of my will. “Don’t go there, Jackson. Don’t you dare slide off into melancholy with me. Ronnie is better off having you in her life, and I am, too. I love you, and there is no price I wouldn’t pay to be with you.”

He looks at me then, as if he is absorbing my words. As if he’s weighing the truth of them. He looks at me for so long, in fact, that I’m almost compelled to speak, but then he does that first.

“Being with you in Santa Fe . . .” He trails off.

“What?”

I see something like pain flicker across his face. “I know I was an ass. It was because of Ronnie. Well, because of all of it. But I think it was mostly her.”

“Oh.” An icy chill snakes up my back, and I tense, certain I know where this is going. I’m not her mom. I haven’t the faintest idea how to be a mom. And right now Jackson needs to focus on two things: getting cleared and being a father. Which means he needs to not focus on me.

“It’s just that I caught myself thinking that it would be good—a comfort, I mean—if I knew that Ronnie would be safe on the outside with you if the worst happened.”

I frown, no longer sure where he’s heading. “And that turned you into an ass?”

The corner of his mouth actually curves up. “Have you not been paying attention? You found out about five minutes ago that I have a child. A child you’ve spent barely any time with. And yet in my mind I already had you filling the gap in her life when I end up behind bars. Auntie Syl, right there. Helping to take care of her. Protecting her. I mean, hell, sweetheart, I practically had you in the role of Mommy.”

My chest tightens, emotion flooding me. He wasn’t pulling away from me because he didn’t want me. Just the opposite.

“It’s selfish of me, and unrealistic, and—”

I can’t help myself. I burst into tears.

“Oh, Christ, Syl. Oh, shit.” Jackson wanted to kick himself. What the hell had he been thinking?

That was easy. He was thinking that he wanted her. Forever. For always. He wanted her. And he had to go and run off at the mouth without thinking about what she wanted.