“You smell nice, Jules.” He took a long breath after speaking those words under his breath. “I can almost taste you on my tongue.”
A flush on her cheekbones, she focused on inputting their orders. “Oh, do you know how to use that tongue?” she asked, sweet as pie. “I thought I felt a vague brush down there the other night.”
He grinned. “Guess I need to try harder. Lick and suck harder.”
As she inhaled quickly, he grabbed a couple of bottles of water and located his offspring. It was ridiculously fun messing with Jules, but he had to tone it down or his cock was going to give the entire lounge a show. Esme proved to be peering interestedly at the jar of marshmallows on the counter, far above her reach.
“Later,” he told her. “Let’s go find seats.”
“I have some already,” Juliet said, then led them to a grouping of four with a small coffee table in the center.
Esme rolled her child-sized blue-princess carry-on to stand next to Juliet’s sleek black one. “See, Jules?” she said proudly. “I got one too.”
Juliet nodded and, with every appearance of interest asked Esme about the princess whose face was emblazoned on the front, a face that was now haunting Jake in his dreams, cackling with glee at all the money he’d thrown her way. After giving Juliet the history of the princess, his daughter took the opportunity to regale her with stories of all the places she’d taken her carry-on.
Juliet’s airline app pinged midway to tell her their drinks were ready. Motioning at her to stay seated, Jake went to the counter to pick them up. He returned to find two dark-haired heads drawn together in deep discussion.
A deep, important thing twisted in his heart.
Something that had nothing to do with his tongue or his cock and everything to do with the reason for the fear that continued to dog him: Juliet mattered.
Putting down the drinks, he volunteered to hold the fort while the two of them went off to look at the available food. He needed the breathing space, needed to find his feet again.
Of course, Juliet swept them out from under him again the instant she returned from the catering area. “We got a plate for you too,” she said. “Heavy on the nuts and cheeses. Esme said those were your favorites.”
Juliet’s phone buzzed even as she spoke the last word, and she excused herself to go answer it.
“I like Jules,” his daughter announced following her departure. “She’s nice. Real nice, not pretend nice.”
Sometimes Jake thought his daughter was sixty years old rather than six. “What do you know about pretend nice?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
She shrugged. “I just know.” Then she stuffed half a slider in her mouth, as if he hadn’t fed her for days before bringing her to the airport.
Shoulders shaking, he ate a couple of nuts and drank his coffee while keeping an eye on his baby girl to make sure she didn’t choke on her spoils. And he waited for Juliet. He felt like a damn kid eager to catch a glimpse of the girl on whom he had a crush, his heart thudding at the idea of spending five days with her.
In a massive city where no one would care if a man named Jacob kissed a woman named Juliet.
“That was the US side’s head of marketing,” Juliet said upon returning to her seat. “He heard about the munchkin, saw a photo of you holding her after that championship game with her wearing your medal.”
Jake stiffened. “Jules—”
She rolled her eyes. “Jeez, let me finish.”
“Yeah, Daddy. You say it’s rude to inter-wupt.”
Properly schooled, Jake rubbed his forehead. “It is. Sorry, Jules.” He could see Juliet’s eyes dancing as he apologized through gritted teeth. It took all his self-control not to lunge across the space between them and kiss her amusement right into his own blood. “Carry on.”
“I set them straight. No pictures of Esme without permission. I assured them you’d sue them into the ground if they breached that rule.”
“I know Sue!” his daughter announced, caramel sticking to the sides of her mouth because she was now halfway through a chocolate caramel slice.
Picking up a paper towel, he wet it with some water, then wiped it over her mouth. She sat patiently through it before returning to her treat. He looked up to find Juliet’s eyes had gone soft, a little sad.
“Remember how much Calypso could eat?” Quiet words that wouldn’t reach Esme. “I never could figure out where it went.”
“How about that time she ate a whole pizza? At the game.”
“Oh my God, I’d almost forgotten.”
“I thought she was joking when she took a whole pizza and refused to share.” Jake’s cheeks creased. “By the time she got to the final piece, I think we were all watching her more than the game.”
“The way she held up that box like a trophy at the end. Crying, ‘I’m the champion!’”
They both grinned.
“Daddy,” Esme said, “can I go sit in that?” She was pointing at a giant swing chair at one end of the lounge.
Jake nodded because the chair was both solidly installed and in his line of sight.
“You’re good at letting her be independent while keeping her safe,” Juliet said after Esme had run off.
“I’d be an overprotective monster if it weren’t for Mum and Dad getting me help,” he admitted, the words flowing in a way they hadn’t for a long time—not even with his family. “After Calypso died, I wouldn’t let Esme out of my sight for a second, even when she was being cared for by my own mother.
“It wasn’t just Esme either—I’d check on Danny during the night to make sure he was breathing, call Sailor and Gabe multiple times a day, make my parents check in if they went out.” He shook his head. “Poor Ísa would actually put the phone down next to Emmaline so I could hear her baby chatter and be reassured she was healthy and happy.”
“I can’t say I blame you.” Juliet looked down at her drink. “When you’re a teenager, you don’t expect death to hit like that, out of nowhere.”
“Yeah.” His entire world had crumbled in the space of twenty-four-hours as the meningitis ravaged Calypso; she’d been playfully tickling a smiling Esme as she changed her diaper one day, fighting for her life the next.
“Do you miss her?” Dark eyes that held a weight of memory… and a question that was a gray barrier between them. “Callie?”
He took his time thinking about that, his mind filled with a thousand faded snapshots. “I miss that our daughter will never know her. I try to keep her memory alive, but to Esme, Calypso’s an image in a photograph, a face and voice on a screen.”
He smiled at his daughter as she waved at him after managing to clamber into the seat of her swing, a tiny and pleased empress on a huge throne. “I miss the way she’d make quirky jokes it always took me a while to get. I miss knowing who she would’ve become as she grew. But I had to get past her death to be a good dad, a good man.”
Nudging his head in Esme’s direction, he said, “She needed me to get my shit together, be there for her, and that was the start, but we were also so young, Jules. In puppy love that’s frozen in time.” Sweet and soft and gentle. “I’ll never forget her, and I’ll keep her in my heart always because she—and who we were together—deserve that, but she’s gone and the boy she loved has grown into a man she never knew.”