For a beat, her spine stiffened, and I knew where her thoughts had gone. Those years coming between us, getting closer and closer until we’d have to face the consequences of them.
“Come on . . . let’s go get that little girl of yours,” I said.
I had to get out of there or I’d be taking her places I knew she wasn’t ready for.
The way she’d fallen apart in my arms this morning was proof of that.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt guiltier than in that moment when the girl had fucked me with that sweet, sweet mouth and then had broken up after.
Torn. Tormented. Confused.
And I kept pushing her.
Problem was, I didn’t know how to stop.
Not when this girl had always been mine.
I wasn’t going to settle until she knew it.
Blowing out a breath, disappointment or relief, I wasn’t sure, she swiveled out of my arms. I caught only the tips of her fingers.
This soft kind of wariness had filled her features when she looked up at me. “She likes you.”
Emotion gripped me everywhere.
Magic.
The way I felt about that little girl had to be proof of its existence.
“I like her, too.” I barely forced it out.
Because I couldn’t quite put my finger on the way I felt about her.
Honestly, the thought of that innocent face kind of made me want to do some of that weeping, too.
“She’s my world, Jace.” There was some kind of warning in it.
I touched her face. “Which is exactly what she should be.”
A smile ticked up at the corners of her perfect, plush lips.
Joy.
I saw it.
Right there, waiting to reclaim its spot. To become the brightest part of her.
I stepped back so I could fully take it in. See the wholeness of it. Let it tease me with a little of my own.
“You ready?”
Faith hesitated for the beat of a second before she stretched out her hand to take mine. “Yeah, I’m ready.
Five minutes later, we had made it into town, and I took the last turn into her parents’ neighborhood.
Big trees hugged each side, and well-kept, modest houses were tucked in their protection. Lawns fronted the houses, and the walkways were edged in bright, blossoming flowers.
Faith swung her gaze at me, a smile riding her face.
The tension and the strain from earlier had evaporated.
Damn.
She was radiant.
Fucking brilliant.
Blinding.
“I seriously thought you and my daddy were gonna have it out right there on the stoop last night.”
A grin perked up on my lips. Keeping it light when there hadn’t been anything funny about it. “Uh, yeah, I was waiting on him to come at me, too. He’s not exactly my biggest fan.”
She laughed quietly. “Ah . . . my daddy’s a big ol’ teddy bear. He only wants what’s best for Bailey and me.”
“He always has wanted what was best for you,” I told her, remembering the things he’d said to me.
How they’d affected me.
How I’d wanted to prove him wrong when the only thing I’d done was prove him right.
“My daddy’s not about words, Jace. The only thing he cares about is, if we say them, we’d better mean them.”
My nod was slow, and there was not a damned thing I could do but reach over the console and take her hand.
Squeeze it.
Savor the fire.
“And if I showed up there right now and told him I was staying, what would he think?”
“He’d probably think you were feeding him a line.” She squeezed my hand back, her quiet voice filling with that hope. “And both of us would silently be rooting for you to prove him wrong.”
I smiled at her as I pulled to the curb. That feeling took hold of me again. Something perfect. A feeling I wanted to keep forever.
Faith had already hopped out of the passenger side by the time I made it around, and I stepped up to her side, planting my hand on the small of her back as we took the walkway and then edged up the steps.
A shiver caressed that soft, soft flesh.
I wanted to trace it. Capture it. Explore every inch.
The front door swung open, and there was Bailey, all wild curls, bright eyes, and dimpled chin. “Mommy and Jacie!”
My chest tightened again.
Laughing, Faith shifted her attention my way. “Well, it seems someone earned himself a nickname.”
The kid was so damned adorable, winding her way right the hell in.
My brow quirked up. “Jacie, huh?”
Emphatic, Bailey nodded and started to sing, “Jacie, Jacie, Jacie.”
All right then.
A soft rumble of laughter pilfered free. “You can call me whatever you want, Unicorn Girl.”
Bailey beamed. “Unicorn Girl! I a unicorn girl.”
God. That hooked me, too.
Faith’s mother was suddenly there and pushing open the screen. “Well, are you two gonna stand out there all day or are you gonna come in? Might as well be a fire out there for how hot it is.”
Faith stepped inside, quick to pull Bailey from her feet and hike her onto her hip. At the same time, she dipped in to peck a kiss to her mother’s cheek. “Hey, Mama. How was my girl last night? Did she sleep okay?”
“She slept just fine. You worry too much.”
“It’s a mama’s right to worry, isn’t that what you always told me growing up?” There was a tease to Faith’s tone.
Her mother laughed. It was a free sound that bounced through the entry. I had to wonder what it might have been like as a kid to come home every day to something that sounded like that.
“Don’t go using my words against me, girl.”
“It’s the only defense I have.” Faith winked, and her mom just grinned.
God.
I roughed an uncomfortable hand through my hair and dropped my eyes to the ground.
Suddenly, I felt like I was overstepping.
Out of bounds.
Getting into things I knew better than to get involved in.
This wasn’t why I was here.
The problem was, I was starting to forget the reason. Hell, I was pretty sure the second I’d touched her last night, every single one of those reasons had flown out the window.
When I looked back up, Faith had disappeared down the hall in the direction of her old room, Bailey rambling about needing to get her Beast.
My heart stuttered when I found her mother standing there staring at me.
“Well, Jace Jacobs.”
Unease bounded through my nerves.
She’d always been too warm. Too nice. It made me feel like I’d let her down, too.
“Now, don’t go lookin’ at me like that.”
Confusion had my brow twisting, and I was barely able to get the question out. “How’s that, ma’am?”
Yup. There I was. A stammering, seventeen-year-old kid.
She eyed me seriously. “Like you don’t belong here.”
She reached out, and a shiver raced down my spine when she pinched my chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look at her. “You look up with your head held high. Strong like you are.”
My throat locked up.
“You think I didn’t always know it?” she asked, her voice soft and somehow hard as she craned her head to the side. “The man you are inside? The rest of the world might have been blind to it. The rest of the world might have wanted to beat it down and hold it back. But I saw it right there, burnin’ from your bones.”
“I’ve done some things I’m not exactly proud of.” Couldn’t keep the admission from sliding free.
She gave a slight nod. “Haven’t we all. And it’s a real man who admits when he makes a mistake. Does his best to make it right. Is that what you’re here to do? Make it right? Only a real man would come in the middle of a mess as monumental as this one. I see you, stepping in and putting yourself in danger for the sake of them both. That . . . that is what counts. There is no better judge of character than the sacrifice a man is willing to make.”
There was a gleam in her eyes.
God damn it. If I wasn’t already crumbling at Faith’s feet, her mother sure has hell would have had me a puddle on the floor.
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure they are safe. To make this right.” At least I could give her that truth.