Not Your Hero (13 page)

“No. I get it. Fine.” She turns and says over her shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

“Hey, Sam!” Ben yells from the floor of the living room, tongue sticking out, concentrating on a video game.

“Hi, buddy.”

“Wanna play?”

Courtney went upstairs, and I’m here to help, so I grab the other controller and sit next to him. We play for about a half hour when she comes back downstairs dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

“It’s almost lunchtime. What do you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” he replies.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she answers, “You need to eat, and I swear if you don’t give me an answer, I’m taking that game and throwing it in the garbage.”

“Fine. Hot dogs.”

“I don’t have any. How about a sandwich?”

“No. I want hot dogs.”

“I don’t have any!” she yells.

Her gaze catches mine, and she passes a silent plea. She’s never yelled at him like that in front of me; she must be at her limit.

“Let’s go look in the kitchen and see what else we can find. I’ll help you.” I lean closer to his ear and whisper, “If we find any candy, we’ll have to hide it and eat it when your mom’s not looking.”

He giggles and looks back and forth between us then cups his hand at my ear. “I know where she hides it.”

I make a production of standing and face Courtney. “We’ll make our own lunch. We’re men.”

Ben copies and crosses his arms. “Yeah, Mommy. We’re men.”

A smile pulls at her lips, and she nods. “Yes, you are. I’m going to look for some stuff in the basement while you do that, okay?”

“Okay!” His little feet run him to the kitchen and drawers start slamming.

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t break anything. Do what you need to, I got him.”

When I step past her, she grabs my wrist. I turn my head, and she mouths, ‘Thank you.’ I lean down and kiss the top of her head before she walks downstairs to rummage through papers.

* * *

Several hours later, after playing catch, board games, and going to the park with Ben, I pay the delivery guy and yell for Courtney, “Pizza’s here.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

I open the box and set it in the middle of the kitchen table then grab a beer for myself, a juice box for Ben, and pour a glass of wine for Courtney.

Ben and I dig in, and she joins us a minute later.

“Did you find everything you need?” I ask.

“Mostly. I think so. I’ll have to see what the law- guy says.”

“What guy?” Ben asks.

She takes a sip of wine before answering. “Just a friend who needs something.”

Already distracted, he focuses on stretching the cheese as far away from his mouth as he can.

I’ve hardly talked to her all day, so I lean over and quietly ask, “What time is he coming?” She doesn’t know he’s my father, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m sure she’ll find out, and as much as I don’t want to, I’ll have to tell her about my past and how he plays into me being the man I am today. Was. The man I was. He has nothing to do with the man I am right now, sitting at this table.

She glances at Ben before answering. “When he called today, he said he could only do it on his lunch tomorrow, so I took a half day. He’s coming here at noon.”

“Do you want me to be here?” I plan on it no matter what because I don’t want her alone with him, but she should be the one to tell me instead of me barging in on her all the time.

“I was hoping you would since you know him. I’m so nervous.” Her voice gets softer with every word, and I grab her hand under the table. Relief washes over me when she grips mine back and doesn’t let go.

“I’m done, Mom!” Ben yells.

“‘Kay. Go wash up and put your jammies on.”

“Can I stay up a little later?”

“No, it’s a school night. Did you thank Sam for playing with you today?”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime, buddy.” Christ, do I mean that. I had fun with the kid today, and it’s been a long time since that’s happened. He asks a million questions and is funny as hell. Courtney’s done a great job raising him.

“Do you want another slice?” she asks.

“No. But you should, you didn’t even finish the first one.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

“All right.” Come to think of it, unless she ate while we were at the park, she didn’t come upstairs all day for food. I’ll have to keep an eye on that.

We both move around the kitchen to clean up the mess, and when she opens the cabinet to throw out the garbage, the door is loose.

“How long has that been broken?”

She pushes the trash in and lifts the door by the handle to align it before closing it. “What?”

“The cabinet door. It’s loose.”

“Oh, that. I don’t know. A while?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not a big deal.” She shrugs.

“It is to me. You need to tell me so I can fix shit like that.” Not only is she paying me rent, but she shouldn’t live in a home with broken doors.

“Okay.”

“Is there anything else broken?”

She shakes her head as she pours another glass of wine and hands me a beer. “Nope. Not that I can think of.”

“You tell me if something breaks or is loose or leaking or whatever, okay?”

“It’s really not a big deal.”

I set down the empty can and open the new one. “Please. Tell me.”

Her brows draw together, and she tilts her head a bit. “Why is this so important to you all of the sudden?”

“Hell, I don’t know. You shouldn’t live in a place with shit that’s broken. Especially with me next door. I’m here to help you, and I want you to come to me for stuff.” This whole conversation is making me mad, so I try to change the subject. “Doesn’t Ben need to go to bed?” I cringe the moment the words come out because that sounded shitty. “That’s not how I meant it.”

“What did you mean, then?” She crosses her arms and gets that pissed off look on her face that shoots straight to my dick.

“I’m just trying to change the subject. I don’t want to fight with you over a fucking cabinet door.”

“I didn’t realize we were fighting. I thought we were talking.” Lifting her hands in surrender, she finishes, “Look, you say you want to try again and prove to me you’re here. Then you’re gonna have to talk. I’m just trying to get to know you. Wanna know why fixing a door is so important.”

“Fine. But why are we still talking about a damn door?”

“Because! You won’t answer my question.”

“What was the question again?” I didn’t forget but seeing her riled up is so hot.

“Oh, my God! You’re infuriating.” She takes another swallow of her wine. “I’m going to put Ben to bed; you stay here and fix the freaking door.”

When her arm brushes past me on her way out of the kitchen, I grab it and pull her back against my front then wrap my arms around her. “I know that the door wasn’t broken when I was here last month.” My words are quiet. I’m trying to get her to understand, and I suck at talking about how I feel. I am a guy, after all. “So that means it broke and you didn’t feel comfortable coming to me to tell me.”

Her head hangs a little, and there’s my answer.

“And that’s my fault. It pisses me off that I was such a fucking prick to you. You didn’t deserve it. So that’s why I’m so mad . . . it ain’t got shit to do with the door, but all about you, babe. Everything always comes back to you.”

She turns and places her right hand on the side of my face then leans up and presses her lips against mine. It’s a small kiss, but a huge step in the right direction.

“Thank you,” she whispers against my mouth.

* * *

“He’s sleeping.”

“Good. Come here.” I hold my arm out on the couch, and she cuddles next to me, her head resting on my chest.

I’ve been thinking about tomorrow and have decided that she deserves to know that the lawyer coming over here to her house is my dad. It wouldn’t be fair to her to be hit with it, and I really don’t want to do anything that could upset her further.

I run my fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead.

“The lawyer coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s my dad.”

She pushes up and opens her mouth, before closing it again. “But . . . what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She gets off the couch and paces, twisting her hands in front of her body. “This is great. Just fucking great. I meet my boyfriend’s father in the middle of a custody battle. ‘Hey,’” she mocks, sticking out her hand for a handshake. “‘I’m Courtney, your son’s girlfriend. Can you please prove to the courts that I’m not a whore so they don’t take my son from me?’”

I try not to smile when she calls me her boyfriend. I’ve never felt pride like I do right now over a stupid word.

“Hey.” I stand and grab her hands to give a little tug so she looks at me. “Sit down, there’s so much more to it.”

She sits in the center of the tattered blue couch, and I sit opposite her on the coffee table.

“First, my dad, Jerome, is a great fucking lawyer. You may have heard of him?” His law firm does some really big cases, and he’s been on the news hundreds of times. “Jerome Monroe?”

“It sounds familiar.”

“He was just on the news last week for getting that guy off who shot a cop.”

Her eyes light up, and she nods. “Oh, him. Yeah, I heard about that. That’s your dad?”

“Yeah. But I hate him.”

“Oh . . .”

“He was a horrible father. And as soon as I could, I moved in here, next to my grandparents and haven’t spoken to him since. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’ll tell you this. He is a horrible person. He’s selfish, condescending, a liar, manipulative, and cruel. But he’s an excellent lawyer.” I wait until that sinks in before saying anything else.

“Why haven’t you talked to him in so long?”

“Honestly, I’d rather not get into it. I’ll just say he did something unforgivable.”

Her face softens, and she reaches for my hands. “But you talked to him about me?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

I lean forward and rest my forehead against hers. “All I want you to say is that you’ll give me another chance.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” She smiles and wraps her hands around my head, pulling me toward her until our mouths meet. She grips me harder, and when her nails dig into my flesh, I pull my hands away and slide them up her sides until my thumbs graze the side of her tits.

I move from the table and slowly crawl up her body. She moans into my mouth and presses herself against me. Every soft curve. On their own, my hips rock into her, craving her, missing the way she makes me feel. Always so perfect. Her heat surrounds me and I can’t get enough of her mouth. Kissing has never turned me on so much in my life. I could kiss her for hours—the way her tongue glides across mine, and how she pulls back to bite on my lip is so fucking hot.

I growl into her mouth and wish there weren’t jeans separating us right now. She wraps her legs around me, and we both rock into each other at a furious pace. Her mouth devours mine and her nails dig into my back. Each movement gets faster and harder until she pulls back and gasps as her orgasm rips through her. Somehow, she becomes even hotter.

I slow down, and eventually stand. I’ll have blue balls, but I don’t fucking care. She needs to know I’m not here for sex. I’ll get her off as many times as she wants, but I won’t fuck her yet, not until this custody battle is over. I want to know she’s with me for me, and not the stress of everything pushing her.

“I want more than anything to fuck you right now.” I grab my crotch and internally groan when her hungry eyes follow my hand to my rock hard dick. “I’m always hard for you, always ready to go. But part of me proving that I’m here for you is making this about more than sex.” I place my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up to look me in the eyes. “Even though it pains me, it physically hurts me, I’m walking away right now.” I lean over and give her a quick but hard kiss. “Lock the door behind me, and use the deadbolt and the chain. I need to know I can’t walk back in here and take you.”

* * *

“Dude, what’s wrong with you today?” Nate asks from the passenger seat.

We just left our first job of the day and are on our way to the second. I canceled my afternoon appointments so I could be with Courtney this afternoon.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’re staring off into space like a love-sick teenager.”

I punch him in the shoulder. “I am not.”

“Dude,” he rubs his arm, “you are, too. What gives?”

“Nothing.”

He starts to answer, but his phone rings, so he holds up his finger while answering. “Hi, baby.” His face pales, and he looks at me with wide eyes. “Okay. Okay, I’m on my way. Just relax, baby. Everything will be fine. We’re driving right now; I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He holds the phone away from his face so only I can hear. “Janie’s in labor. I need to go to the hospital.”

He rattles off the directions, and I speed as safe as I can. He talks to his wife like nobody is listening—offering her words of encouragement and squeezing his hand into a fist when she has a contraction. Her voice screams through the speaker and his face scrunches at her pain. “Baby, it’s okay. Please, don’t cry. I won’t miss it. I’m almost there.” He glances at me, and I nod, accelerating.

We arrive at the hospital, and I drop him off at the entrance so he can run in. I’m only in the waiting room for about a half hour when he walks out with a relieved and utterly happy look on his face. “It’s a girl. I have a daughter.”

I stand and shake his hand, but he pulls me in for a hug. I slap his back and his eyes are wet when I pull away. “Man,” he wipes them with the back of his hand, “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was beautiful. Christ.”

“Congratulations.”

“Nathan! Do I have a grandson or a granddaughter?” I recognize his parents as they rush in, followed by some other people I don’t know but can only assume are his family. They all hug and cry as I step away.

I fall into a chair when it hits me. They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. But I disagree because I just saw Courtney and Ben’s faces. I saw a future, a life, a family. I think your life flashes before you when you finally decide to live.