Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2)

The promise of fast food and a treat brighten her mood. I wish that’s all it took for me to forget Chip. Unfortunately, this encounter is going to bother me all night. That asshole. I can’t believe I allowed myself to be sucked in by him. As much as I hate the man, I can’t regret the past because I’d battle a thousand Chips to have Cassidy. I wanted Cassidy’s dad to be someone else, but that he’s not? Well, that’s on me.

As I’m packing up, Charlie reappears. Her pretty face is flushed with anger.

“That man is such a jerk,” she fumes and then immediately turns to Cassidy, who is waving her princess wand at the television. “Sorry, baby, don’t ever repeat that word until you’re like 18.”

“She’s not listening, and if ‘jerk’ is the worst word in her vocabulary, I think she’s going to be all right.” I brush a hand over my baby’s hair. “Cassidy, run into the kitchen and get your tiara, okay? Mommy needs to talk to Auntie Charlie for a minute.”

“’Kay.”

We watch Cassidy scamper into the kitchen before Charlie turns to me. “I don’t know how you deal with that.”

“I don’t. I don’t see him or talk to him. This is the most time I’ve spent with him in years, so it’s fine.” I give a tiny shrug. “Not gonna lie. There were moments during dinner when I wanted to shove my steak knife into his throat, but as long as he stays on his side of the city and I stay on mine, it’s all good.” I shoulder Cassidy’s toy bag and grab my keys.

Charlie makes an unhappy noise. “I hate that you’re leaving. Can we try again tomorrow?”

“Sorry. We have ballet lessons.”

“Mommy, I need to use the potty,” Cassidy interrupts.

I bend down. “All right. Run to the bathroom and then we’ll leave.”

“Can you come with me?” She twists a foot into the rug.

I exchange a surprised glance with Charlie. Cassidy’s pretty independent, and the fact that she wants me to go with her to the bathroom is worrisome.

“Sure, baby girl.” I hand the toy bag off to Charlie and follow Cassidy into the hall bathroom.

Cassidy doesn’t actually go potty. Instead, she burst into tears.

I scoop her up. “What’s wrong?”

“Did I ’barass you?” she cries, her bright blue eyes sparkling with tears.

“No, baby. Of course not!” I cradle her head against my shoulder and jiggle her a little, just like when she was a little baby.

“I knocked the man’s glass over,” she sobs.

“So what? That’s no big deal?”

“But we’re leaving now and it’s my fault.”

Oh Chip. Goddamn him. I hate him so much, but storming out of here and slamming my fist into his face—no matter how personally gratifying that would feel—isn’t going to make Cassidy stop crying.

“It’s nothing. We all spill. Remember the other day when I dropped the bowl of yogurt and it splashed all over?” She nods, rubbing her wet face in my neck. “We cleaned that up and got another bowl out of the fridge and it was no big deal, right?”

She nods again. I continue to rock her and rub her back until her thin body stops shuddering. Outside the bathroom door, I hear noises and then a slammed front door.

A knock on the door is followed by a soft voice. “It’s me, Charlotte. Chip left.”

And it’s time for us to go too. Cassidy’s tired. I set her on the edge of the sink and wipe the tears off her face. “See, baby. The bad man left. It’s time for you and Mommy to go home.” I rub my stomach dramatically. “I am so hungry for French fries.” Her little stomach contracts as I poke it. “Your tummy says it’s hungry, too.”

She gives me a watery smile.

“Okay, do you still need to use the potty?”

“Yeah.”

I help her down. “Do your business and then come out and say goodnight to Auntie Charlie.”

“And Uncle Nick?” she asks, as she waddles over to the toilet.

“And Uncle Nick.” I close the door behind me and look up to see Uncle Nick leaning against the wall, his arms folded, ankles crossed, and an unhappy expression marring his perfect, masculine features.

“Lainey, I’m sorry. He just is not a fan of kids.”

“Oh really?” I say sarcastically. “I swear I heard him say he wanted two of them.”

Nick’s face twists up, but I decide to let the guy off the hook. My quarrel isn’t with Nick. I wave my hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I’m tired. Cassidy’s tired. You have film to watch.” Suddenly, I do feel exhausted.

“I suppose so.” He tucks a few fingers into the tops of his pockets and looks down at the tops of his shoes. He’s embarrassed by what happened at dinner, caught between his coach and his friends. And I don’t like being the source of his discomfort.