Only For Tonight, page 31
“You are going to spoil him,” I tell him. I can see his soft smile in the room and he bends to kiss the black hair on our son’s head. Hair just like Daddy, eyes just like Daddy. He’s his father’s son, and there is no doubt about that.
“I’ve hardly held him.” He looks back up at me. “I never get him. People are always hogging him.” He rubs his big hands over his back. “If he’s not in one of our parents’ arms, he’s in your arms.”
“That’s because I have the goods.” I point to my breasts. “He’s a big boy and needs to eat a lot, apparently.”
“I don’t get any time with him if I don’t get to rock him.” I roll my eyes when he says that.
“The minute he unlatches from me, you take him away from me.” I point at him. “It’s a good thing you have summer break.”
He chuckles. “It’s almost like we planned it.” I walk to him and stand beside the rocking chair. Seeing Jagger curled into a ball on his chest, his big hand under his small bum, while his other hand comes out to rub the back of my legs. “I’m going to get another bassinet,” he says to me, “so we can have him in our room.”
“Or how about we just bring the bassinet upstairs at night?” I shake my head. “We don’t need more baby gear. Our parents already have one of everything in their houses, just in case.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and lean down to kiss our son’s soft head before I kiss Jaxon’s lips. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“Sleep deprived,” I admit to him, “but couldn’t be more happy.” He reaches for my hand that has my ring on it, bringing it to his lips.
“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” he urges softly. “I’ll bring him in when he’s hungry.”
“Or you put him down,” I counter, “and come and hold me.” He looks at our son and then looks at me. “Wow, you even have to think about it, Jaxon Stevenson?”
“Baby, why don’t we bring him with us”—he gets up and I shake my head—“I’ll go get the bassinet and we can place him by the bed.”
“That means you are going to have to put him down to get the bassinet,” I tell him and he looks over at the crib and then down at his son.
“Okay, how about I just stay here and you can go back to bed,” he suggests, and I lean to kiss his lips and then kiss our son.
“I’m going to go and take a shower.” I turn to walk out of the bedroom. The idea of taking a shower now is the only thing I can think of.
“What if he wakes up and you are still in there?” The panic sets into his voice.
“I’m sure you’ll handle it,” I throw over my shoulder and walk away from them. It takes me a full thirty minutes in the shower and I even have time to wash my hair and then comb it out. I literally feel like a brand-new woman when I walk out of the bathroom and head to the closet, when I hear Jaxon’s voice coming from the monitor.
“We are going to change your diaper and then go in search of the goods,” he coos and I hear my son grunting.
I head over to my drawer full of lounge wear that my aunt had shipped to me the week before I gave birth. I pull on a pair of light gray lounge pants before slipping on one of my white nursing tanks, then grabbing the matching short light robe with wide sleeves. I walk out of the closet at the same time as Jaxon walks into the bedroom.
“There she is,” he announces to our son, who is now sounding like a squawking bird. “I told you she was coming.”
“I’m going to go and nurse him downstairs,” I tell him as I take him from his father.
“I’m going to jump into the shower.” He kisses me on the lips and his hand goes to my ass where he squeezes it and then groans. “Love you,” he mumbles to me and then kisses Jagger’s head. “You too, buddy.”
I walk down the steps with Jagger squirming in my arms. “It’s coming,” I tell him as he goes from zero to a hundred in three seconds. He also has his father’s temper and expects things to happen right away. I head over to the kitchen, filling my water bottle with ice and water. His voice is going higher and higher, as if we have been starving him for the past five days.
The front door opens and I hear two sets of footsteps. “Why is the baby howling like that?” I hear my father before I see him as I get comfy on the couch.
“Hey.” He walks in with Manning behind him, both of them dressed to go and play golf.
“We were going to play golf,” my father states, “and thought we would bring you guys some breakfast.” He holds up the brown bag. “Why is he crying?”
“Because my nipple isn’t in his mouth,” I tell my father, who comes over and kisses me on the head and then kisses Jagger, who is now moving his arms and legs.
“Do you want to eat and do that?” He points to the baby and then my chest.
“What did you get me?” I ask him and he opens the bag.
“A bagel with eggs, sausage, and cheese. Cup of fruit.”
“I’ll take the cup of fruit now,” I tell him, grabbing my nursing pillow, “and then eat the bagel when I hand him off.”
“He’s got a set of lungs on him, like his dad.” Manning smirks. “He was the worst, and he had zero patience.”
“He never grew out of it,” I mumble as I rub my hand up and down my son’s cheek. “It’s coming,” I tell him, placing his stomach toward my breast and pulling the top down before grabbing a blanket to cover myself. The room goes instantly quiet and he latches on and gulps down. “There you go.” I look under the blanket at him nursing with his hand in a fist lying on my breast. “You survived.”
“Here you go,” my father offers, handing me the fruit bowl and then sitting in front of me. “You doing okay?”
“I slept for three hours straight,” I tell him.
“Why don’t we come back later this afternoon and take him, so you can get some rest?”
“Dad”—I try not to laugh—“you don’t have to make excuses to come over. We told you guys this.”
“I told him this also,” Manning interjects from the kitchen, sitting on a stool eating his bagel. “Man has not listened to me at all in his whole life.” My father looks over and glares at him.
“You guys need alone time.”
“You’ll be gone in a week,” I remind him, “when you leave to go back home.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to leave him,” he admits and then corrects himself. “You. I don’t know how I’m going to leave you.”
“Mmm,” I say, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into my mouth, “nice save.”
“What are you two doing here?” Jaxon asks, walking into the kitchen, wearing shorts and a white T-shirt. “I told you guys to come in the afternoon when I’m not here, so she has help.”
Manning looks up at him mid-bite. “Would you relax? We brought breakfast,” he tells his son. “We’ll be here when you go train.” Even though he is on summer break, he still has to keep his training up. He hates it and has now taken to doing his off-ice training at home in the gym he created in the pool house, but he can’t build ice in our backyard, so he has to go. “You look like shit,” Manning tells him. “The rule is you sleep when the baby sleeps.”
“I would if I would be able to spend time with my son when he was awake, but I can’t,” he retorts, walking over to the bag and grabbing a sandwich. “Baby, did you eat?”
“I’m having fruit,” I toss over my shoulder. “I’ll eat when you burp him.”
I look at my father in front of me. “You happy, baby girl?”
All I can do is smile at him and look down at my son in my arms. “More than I can put into words,” I assure him and then I look back over at Jaxon, who is now sitting beside his father. “I got really lucky,” I tell him and he shakes his head.
“No, he got really lucky,” my father counters.
“What’s that?” Jaxon asks.
“I said, you got lucky with my daughter,” he states, his voice going higher.
I look over at Jaxon, who just smirks and my stomach flutters with that look. It’s the look that he gave me that night. It’s the look he gives me often. It’s the look I plan on spending the rest of my life getting. “You got that right,” he agrees, winking at me. “Love you.”
ONE MONTH LATER
“He’s down”—I collapse in the bed beside Jaxon—“and my nipples are raw.”
“He’s going through a growth spurt,” Jaxon mumbles and I have enough energy to open my eyes and glare at him. “I’m just repeating what the doctor said.”
“Thanks,” I retort as the phone on my nightstand rings, “it’s like I wasn’t even there.” I look at it and see Lexi is calling me.
I answer it right away and I hear her soft voice. “Ariella,” she whispers and I sit up in bed.
“What’s the matter?” I ask her, my body going on alert as she sniffles.
“I just left him,” she says, her voice sounding defeated in a way. “I left Trent.”
“Oh my God.” I look at Jaxon, who is now sitting in the bed and waiting for me to tell him something.
“Where are you?” I ask her, getting out of the bed. “Do you need me to come to you?”
“No,” she answers, “I’m with my parents but…” Her voice goes even lower. “Can I come and stay with you?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” I tell her. “Come now.”
“Thank you,” she says and disconnects, and I look over at Jaxon.
“That was Lexi, she left her husband.” His eyes go big. “She’s coming to stay with us.”
Lexi
He told me he loved me after a day.
I should have seen the red flags, but I didn’t.
If you would have told me I would fall for a man who would
Slowly take me away from everything I loved
I would have told you that you didn’t know me.
He was what nightmares were made of.
I just didn’t know I was living in the nightmare
Until my eyes were opened and I made my escape.
I was ready to find myself again.
Kirby
First time I met her I was struck by how beautiful she was.
Then I saw the fear in her eyes.
Fear I’ve seen before but wasn’t sure it was my place.
One chance encounter turned into two.
I didn’t want anything from her, except to get her the help she needed.
What I didn’t expect was that I would lose my heart to her.
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jaxon’s parent’s story
Chapter One
Manning
“Push, push, push,” I say to my son, Jaxon, who skates beside me. Holding his hockey stick in his left hand, he skates around to the other side. He looks over at me and smirks when he gets around without falling this time. “Good.” He skates until we do three whole turns.
He stops by the bench where he put his water bottle when we got on the ice. Chest heaving, he takes off his glove and unsnaps his helmet to get a drink of water. I grab my own bottle and squirt some water in my mouth. “I’m going to set up the cones,” I tell him. “Then I want you to take the puck and zigzag through them.” When he nods, I feel my whole chest expand. This right here, this special time with him, is worth everything.
Unlike my son, who started skating as soon as we could get skates on him, I didn’t start skating until I was six. I would alternate between forward and defense and usually didn’t know which position I was playing until I was told which side of the bench to sit on at the start of the game. When I turned twelve, my father convinced me to stick to defense. It also helped that I was growing like a weed as well as honing my skating skills and increasing my speed. I grew five inches in one year and was already six foot two at fifteen. By the time I turned nineteen, I was six foot five. I wish I could say I was drafted number one overall, but I was drafted number forty-nine to Nashville.
Three years later, I finally made my NHL debut. That was also the year I met Murielle at an after-party. I wasn’t a big shot when we met, but as I started climbing the ladder and making a name for myself, the shy girl started to change. I don’t think I can pinpoint the exact time, but I knew the minute I saw it. She had just given birth to Jaxon and refused to let my parents stay in our house because I could “afford” to put them up in a hotel. That was the first fight we had, and it just went downhill from there. First, she hired a night nurse to get up with Jaxon if he would cry, then she hired a housekeeper. After that, it was a cook. And now, I can’t even tell you what she does all day. I also don’t care.
“We have another hour left,” I tell him. “I have an event to go to tonight.” He nods his head. My son looks just like me, which makes Murielle even happier. His blue eyes are exactly like mine, and his brown hair is just a touch lighter. “Just like his daddy,” she always says, making me cringe. I’ve spent the past four years trying to get her to divorce me. Four years of convincing her that we aren’t good for each other, and four years since I moved out of our bedroom. Four years of me living in hell. The only thing that keeps me from moving out completely is Jaxon.
For the next hour, he pushes himself harder, and when we walk out of the arena, he does it with a huge smile on his face. “I’m going to show Caleb my tricks tomorrow.” He gets into the back seat of the truck, and I wait for him to buckle in before closing the door.
“You have practice tomorrow,” I tell him, and he nods. “Then you have a game next week, but I’m going to be on the road.” I hate missing his games, but when I’m home, I’m in the stands cheering him on. At first, it was rough because people would hound me for pictures and autographs, but I would just smile and decline. I was here for my son, and they always understood that. But then Murielle would push me to take pictures, and we would end up in another fight. A fight that would have to wait until Jaxon got on the bus before I laid into her. I would never fight with his mother in front of him. I never wanted him to feel like he had to choose one parent over the other. Sadly, I was the only one who thought like that.
“Can we have a boys’ night tomorrow?” he asks, and I smile at him.
“That sounds like a great plan,” I say as we pull up to our house. I park the truck and then wait for him to get out. I always walk with my hand on his shoulder. We open the door, and the house is eerily quiet as we walk through the grand foyer to the kitchen, where he opens the double Sub-Zero fridge. He grabs an apple and then looks to see what the chef left for the day. The sound of the basement door opening causes me to look over, and I see Murielle walking up with her trainer. He doesn’t even make eye contact with me as he walks out of my house. Last year, I caught them going at it on the weight bench. I don’t know what she expected from me, but I can tell you what she didn’t like. She didn’t like me turning around and walking out of the room.
“Hey, guys,” she says, coming back from the front door, and I just look at her. “Did you guys have fun at the rink?” She walks to the sink and washes her hands. Her brown hair is tied on top of her head, and all the hard work she does in the gym keeps her body in perfect shape. That, and the many visits to the plastic surgeon. Her tits are done, her ass is lifted, her lips have been injected, and there is so much Botox in her face that, at times, I don’t even know if she’s smiling or frowning.
“Yeah, Dad showed me a couple of tricks,” Jaxon says to her. I walk over to him and take out a meal for him, knowing he doesn’t know which one he should pick. He looks up at me. “I want the chicken.”
Nodding, I walk over to the stove and put his meal in the oven to warm. “Go shower,” I tell him, “and it’ll be done when you come out.”
He walks out of the room, coming back two seconds later to grab a couple of snacks from the pantry, stuffing them in his pocket while he holds the apple.
“Don’t leave the wrappers in your bedroom,” Murielle yells after him.
“What do you care?” I say. “It’s not like you walk around cleaning up.”
“I don’t want him to live like a pig,” she says, leaning her hips against the counter. “What are we doing tonight?”
I laugh at her. “We are not doing anything.” I grab a couple of things out of the fridge and start to make a protein shake. “I have a dinner.”
“Should I come with?” she asks, and I just look over at her. “I’m just asking if you need me to accompany you.”
“Murielle,” I say. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I don’t want you by my side. Aren’t you miserable living like this?” She folds her arms over her chest, pushing up her tits, and I see the hickey that she now has. “Don’t you want to just live your life happy? Be able to do whatever it is you want to do without me?” I don’t wait for her to answer me. “I mean, you just had sex with your trainer in the basement. Where my kid plays.”
“I have needs, Manning,” she says, her voice not even rising. “You obviously won’t entertain them, so I have to get it elsewhere.”
“I’m not entertaining them because I don’t feel like that anymore. We’ve spoken about this for the past four years. You keep holding on to this marriage for what reason, exactly?” I start the blender. “So you can have the title of captain’s wife? What does that do for you?”
“I’ve sacrificed my whole life for you. To make sure you had everything you needed.”
I have to laugh at this. “What exactly did you sacrifice? I never stopped you from doing anything. In fact, I encouraged you to go back to school to get a degree or get a fucking hobby. All you cared about was wearing my jersey to the games. All the perks that came with being my wife got under your skin, so now here we are.”
“What about Jaxon?” she asks. “How do you think he’ll feel about having divorced parents and going from one house to the other?”
“You obviously don’t know your son,” I say, pouring my protein drink in my glass. “You think he doesn’t know we live separate lives? He knows I live on the other side of the house. He’s smarter than you think,” I say. Spinning, I walk out of the kitchen, leaving her with those words. After I climb the winding staircase, I turn right to go to my room. I walk into the bedroom and make my way to my en suite, locking the bathroom door. I had to start doing that after I walked out one day and found Murielle naked, getting ready to join me in the shower.
