Read Jaxson Online

Authors: K. Renee

Jaxson (6 page)

When I make it over the threshold, I can see the anger written all over Tate’s face. I don’t even bother with him and I hear him huff out, “Jax, I’m gonna go start on the chores. Come find me when you’re ready to work.” He walks out the door without another glace in our direction and I’m actually glad he’s gone right now. Maybe now she will tell me everything about the little girl I never got a chance to meet.

“Ignore him.” I frown when I look down at her. I can tell she’s upset that Tate is treating her so shitty, but she never says a word about it, almost like she thinks she deserves his treatment.
 

Walking her into my master bathroom, I sit her on the tub and start the water. As it starts to fill up, I put my hand under the water to make sure it isn’t too hot for her skin. When it’s a good temperature, I plug the tub and look at her. She looks nervous, I wish I could read her mind right now. I want to know exactly what she’s thinking about.
 

Shutting the water off, I turn my attention back to her and grin. I want to slowly strip her down and run my mouth over her body, but I know that her mind is going a million miles an hour right now. She probably isn’t going to like what I say next. “Lyn, I can see your mind working all this out. I already told you. What you told me last night doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” I lean in to her and softly kiss her lips.
 

Closing my eyes at the contact, I feel like I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world. “Come on. Let’s get these muddy clothes off and get you clean.” She gets a scared look on her face.

“I don’t have any clothes.” She says on a mumble. I grin at her. She’s cute when she gets embarrassed.
 

“I know. I’ll grab you some sweats and a t-shirt.” She starts to pull down her shorts, but has a lot of trouble. I know she doesn’t want me to see her naked right now, but I can’t leave her in here alone without making sure she doesn’t hurt herself any more than she already is.
 

Finally, I walk over to her and motion for her to put her legs out. Gripping the waistband of her shorts, I gently pull them down her legs and try to get them off her leg without touching the huge bump. I need to get her some ice.

Once I get them off of her, I put them on the tub and go to take her panties off next. Her hips are wider than before, I still can’t get over how perfect her body is. I love that she has gained curves in all the right places even if she’s self-conscience about it. After I get her panties off, she tries to cover herself with her shirt, but it’s no use. I can still see her sexy thighs and a peek at her perfect pussy. I chuckle at her antics and she asks, “What?”

I look her up and down and I know that she isn’t used to the attention. I wonder what type of tool she was dating before she came out here. My girl was never nervous when she got naked, but this version of her is.

“Lyn, it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before…” The smirk on my face stays as I see her blush. The blush creeps up her neck, I can see the tips of her ears getting red too.
 

“I know. It’s just that, well… Things aren’t what they used to be before getting pregnant.” She looks down at her stomach and I know she thinks she’s gotten fat or something since she got pregnant. Me, I think she looks even better than before.
 

Grabbing her face, I force her to look at me. Searching her eyes, I try to figure out where all her self-esteem went. My girl would never question me when I said she looked good and she sure as hell always flaunted what she had back then. “If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word. I want you to be comfortable. I’ll come help you out when you’re ready.”
 

“I would like to be alone, please,” she whispers. Part of me feels defeated, but I don’t let her see that. I wish like hell the last ten years never happened. I want my girl back. I want the sexy, sweet, fun and caring girl that I fell in love with all those years ago.

Nodding my head, I help her to the edge of the tub and the walk out without looking back at her. Walking out of the room, I take her clothes to the laundry room and check her pocket before I stick them in the washer. Pulling out what looks like a picture, I stick it on the dryer. Every ounce of me wants to look at the photo, but I hate to betray her trust when I finally got her to talk to me again.

I start the washer, leaving the lid open to toss the rest of her clothes in when she’s done in the bath, I grab the photo and take it with me to grab her some clean clothes. The picture is burning a hole in my hand, so I take a peek at it. When I see the sweet little face of Lyndley’s mini me, I feel like I can’t breathe. I drop the sweats and shirt I found for her onto the floor. I have so many damn questions, I don’t even know what to do right now.
 

She’s been carrying this photo for who knows how long and this is the first time I’ve even seen it. Our daughter. I hear the tub start to drain, but I can’t move from the place I’m rooted to. Running my fingers over the sweet baby's face, I feel my chest tighten. She yells out my name and I remember that I need to give her the clean clothes. Finally moving, I make my way into the bathroom and hand her the clothes. I can feel my frown even before she sees it.

When I try to say something, none of the words in my head can express what I’m feeling right now. I’m hurt, upset, sad, happy and bitter all at the same time. I open my mouth, but then I think better of it. If I say something, it’s probably going to be the wrong thing and I might ruin the progress that we’ve already made.
 

Turning on my heel, I make my way back into the room and take a seat on the edge of my bed, pull the picture out of my pocket and just stare at it, memorizing every inch of the beautiful little girl that I never got to meet.
 

After a few minutes she starts to hobble into the room, but I can’t even look at her yet. Looking at her makes me think of the little girl in the picture and it’s tearing me up inside. I feel her brush up against me, I have to fight the anger that’s rising in me. When she sits down, I finally say something. “Were you going to tell me you had a picture of her?” My voice isn’t my own and it’s like I’m someone else completely. I would never talk to her like that, but I have to have an answer.
 

“Yes. The doctor let me have a picture of her before I had to say goodbye.” A tear slowly falls down my face, I feel like the breath is being sucked out of me. There are so many things I want to say, but I can’t get any words out. She looks like she wants to hug me or something, but she doesn’t move from her spot on the bed.
 

“She looks just like you, Lynd,” I finally choke out. Looking up at her, I can see the tears that are pooling in her eyes. “God, she was fucking perfect. A beautiful little angel that was the spitting image of her beautiful mother.”

“If you want, you can have that picture of her. I have one more in my bag at my parents’ house.” Nodding my head, I look back at the photo and run my finger over her little cheeks. Lyndley sobs and I pull her into my arms. Laying us back on the bed, I let her cry on me and I just hold her tightly. We don’t say anything for a long while, but I think we both needed this.

Closing my eyes, I let the tears slide down my face and I just let all the emotions fall over me.
 

It’s almost noon by the time we finally get out of bed. The sweats I gave her are a few sizes too big and she has a hard time keeping them up. I go to make my way to the kitchen and ask Lyndley, “You hungry?” I hear the door open and close and I know Tate is back for lunch. Typically, we eat together, so he won’t be all that thrilled that Lyndley is here.

She hobbles in behind me. I want to carry her, but she insisted that she could make it on her own. “No.” Her voice is meek and she takes a seat on one of the chairs at the table. I start to make some shredded chicken tacos with the leftovers from yesterday when I grilled chicken for dinner.
 

Tate was pissed when he walked in and every time I look over at him I can see the daggers he’s shooting at her. He takes a seat at the table and I see Lynd look down. "So has she told you where your daughter's buried?" he says with disdain.
 

"Shut up, Tate!" I snap. "Let me fucking deal with it. It has nothing to do with you. It's between me and Lyndley."

The chair scrapes against the tile as Tate pushes away from the table, mumbling. He doesn’t even say anything else as he walks out the door, slamming it behind him. I try not to let all the animosity between them come between Lynd and me. I need to fucking tell that fucker to stop trying to mess this shit up with me and her. I want Lynd even after everything and that’s not going to change. He’s going to have to accept that at some point.
 

I finish making the food and plate everything before bringing it to the table and setting a plate in front of Lyndley. We sit in silence for a long while and my mind is just reeling with shit. I don’t want to ask her where our daughter is buried and bring it up, but I am hoping she answers the question before I take her home tonight.
 

She clears her throat and then tells me the answer I am dying to know. "She's buried in New York at Saint Peter’s.”

My eyes snap to hers and I’m pretty sure I look like a fish out of water for a second… "I want to bring her here. She belongs in Texas with her family.”

"I want her here, too. I miss being able to go sit with her,” she finally gets out. She looks like she’s going to cry again, I wish I could take away her pain. I would gladly take it all if I could.
 

"You'd be okay with having her brought here?" I ask. I am praying she says yes because I want our little girl here with all of her family. Texas is where she belongs, not in New York all alone.

"Yes,” she whispers. She looks at her hands for a second before looking back up at me. "But I don't know how to move her or how much it would cost. I had to save for months just to get her buried there."

Grabbing her hand, I pull it towards me and kiss her knuckles. “I’ll take care of everything.” I don’t care how much it is going to cost me to bring her here; I will make sure she’s here where she belongs.

“What have you been doing since I’ve been in New York?” She’s now laying on the other side of the bed from me and her head is on my pillow. I’ve seriously have dreamed about this for years. She probably thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t even care. Having her in the home that I built for us makes things feel like they are right for the first time in years.
 

“I’ve been doing this.” I’m laying on the other side and my eyes are on her.
 

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