Jett (Arizona Vengeance 10)

Shane shakes his head, a sheepish look. “No, actually. I just thought I’d surprise Felicity and see if I could walk her to school.”

Again, don’t want to be threatening. Want to be seen as an advocate for their relationship. “Aw, man… she’ll love that. I just had to listen to her yammer about the daddy/daughter dance you’re taking her to tomorrow. She’s beyond excited.”

That seems to crack the remainder of the ice around Shane, and I can see it in his expression that he’s accepting I’m nothing more than an outside entity to his daughter.

“She’s such a great kid,” Shane says, and I hear the love in his voice. I also hear regret, but I don’t judge him on it. “This last week being back in her life has been the best seven days I’ve ever had.”

Interesting. By him admitting to me he’s been absent, he’s silently admitting that he assumes I know about his history. But I don’t go there.

Merely, I say, “She needed her dad in her life. She needs you.”

I don’t know what I expected, but it’s not the dour pinch to his mouth from that statement. But it’s not Felicity he’s thinking of, because he says, “Emory doesn’t need me anymore.”

What the fuck?

Why would he even make this about his ex-wife—

Ah, I get it now.

Me walking out the door—regardless if I stayed the night or just stopped by—is a bitter pill for him apparently. I don’t know if he’s still holding out hope for something with her, or if he’s just expressing his dismay that he doesn’t have her. I’ll tread lightly with him where Felicity is concerned, I won’t do so with Emory.

She’s mine, and mine alone.

“No,” I say flatly, my eyes pinned on him. “She doesn’t need you.”

Shane flinches, as if I’d slapped him.

Which is ludicrous. If I got violent with him, it wouldn’t be a slap.

But now I’m the one feeling a bit possessive now that I see he’s got some intentions toward Emory. I make it brutally clear. “She has me.”

Shane’s neck twists and he looks off to the side, gazing at the street a moment. Finally, he nods and brings his attention back to me. “It’s serious between you.”

I hadn’t really thought of it by that exact “word”, but I nod. “Yeah. It’s serious.”

With a loud, suffering sigh, Shane mutters, “I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”

I frown at the defeatist tone, and I know exactly what he’s saying, but I play dumb. “You’re here to take Felicity to school.”

“No,” he grumbles in frustration. “I mean… I’m not sure why I even thought I could be part of their lives again and maybe—”

“Whoa,” I bark at him, holding a hand up. “Back the fuck up.”

Shane jerks and takes a wary step back, eyes wide with fear.

“Your family is gone,” I say to him in a low voice. “You need to accept that. But your daughter is here. She’s in that house right now, ecstatic you’re back in her life. I suggest you focus your energy on her and not on the loss of your wife and the very real truth I’m sure you know deep in your gut that you are never getting her back again. And that would be true whether or not I’m in the picture.”

Air whistles out of Shane’s teeth as he seems to deflate in front of me. “You’re right,” he murmurs, not letting his gaze drop but holding mine.

It softens me a little, letting go of the proprietary feeling I’ve got going over Emory and focusing back on Felicity. “Look… Felicity is an amazing kid and she loves you a lot. She’s so grateful to have you back in her life and I know Emory wants you to spend time with her. I’m in full support of that, so I have your back on that. Anything I can do to make it easier for you to have time with her, you let me know.”

“Really?” he asks, a bit skeptically but I suppose that’s fair play.

I nod. “Really. In fact, let me know when you want to go, as long as it’s okay with Emory, and I’ll get you and Felicity front row tickets to a game. Behind the scenes tour too.”

Shane’s face actually lights up and he bobs his head in gratitude. “Thanks, man. That’s really generous.”

“No worries,” I reply genially, but seriously… that’s all up to Emory if she’ll even let Shane take Felicity to a game. I won’t push her either way, but I’ll gladly provide the tickets and tour if Emory feels comfortable with it. Throwing my head toward my car, I say, “I’ve got to get going or I’m going to be late for practice.”

Sticking my hand out again, we shake farewell, and I don’t look back as I leave Shane behind. I’ll text Emory later to find out why he stopped by, but I expect he’s testing boundaries to see what he can get away with.