“Thank Jett for the donuts,” Emory instructs her daughter as she too stands. “And when you finish that one, go wash your face and brush your teeth.”
“Okay, Mummy,” Felicity replies, and then lifts her eyes—same as her mum’s—to me. “Thank you for the donuts, Jett. They’re delicious.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply with a tip of my head.
I then nod to Emory’s chair. “Sit back down and finish your breakfast. I’ll let myself out.”
Once again, she leans into me. That hand on my chest feels perfect. Her lips even better, even though a more chaste kiss has never been had by me.
“Can’t wait for tomorrow night,” she whispers before pulling back.
I’m grinning as I head to the door, thinking that more surprise breakfast drop-offs are warranted because it felt fucking great to make Emory and Felicity happy.
Weird. Making them happy—and they… not just Emory—made me happy.
I open the door, step out onto the porch and pull it shut behind me without a backward look. I’m afraid if I catch Emory’s eyes on me, I might go back inside.
I make it all the way down the steps and onto the sidewalk before movement catches my eye.
A man… slightly shorter than me, thin and I’ll admit… handsome.
Without a doubt, although I’ve never seen a picture of him nor has Emory described him, I know it’s her ex-husband.
His eyes are wide as they take me in and then narrow slightly at the implication that I might have stayed the night. While it’s none of his business, I don’t want to cause waves, so I take the offensive.
Walking his way, I hold my hand out in greeting. “Hey… I’m Jett Olsson.”
The man glances down to my hand, to the house, then back to me before he takes it. “Shane Kelly.”
When we release, I throw a thumb over my shoulder toward the door. “I was just stopping by to drop breakfast off to Emory.”
I don’t include Felicity’s name as I don’t want him to think I’m encroaching on his daughter in any way. Their new relationship is too tenuous to have any jealousies. Not that he would be jealous, but I don’t want to give him an opportunity.
While he never identified exactly who he is, I let him know I know. “You’re Felicity’s dad, right? She’s just been talking nonstop about you. That’s one happy little girl you got.”
Good job, Jett. Non-threatening. Complimentary of his parenting. Hoping some points are scored not for future use, but so he doesn’t feel like he has to prove something to me, or more importantly… to Emory.
For a moment, Shane is confused. You can tell he has no clue how to handle me. I can see he’s still rankled that I was coming out of the house, but the tension in his shoulders seems to have relaxed that I’m only stopping by.
But just as he’s clearly surprised to see me here, I have no clue why he’s here either. Emory didn’t mention he was coming and, therefore, I’m confident she didn’t know.
I get nosy on her behalf. “Did she know you were coming by?” I try to sound innocently inquiring, but it’s pretty nosy. “Because she didn’t say anything.”
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.”