Page 43 of Carry Me Home
“It did when I was younger. But now…” He pushed her a little harder, let her go a little higher. “Now I think it’s his loss. Someone who abandons their kid…that’s not cool. That’s a loser. I don’t hang out with losers.”
Maya’s chin tipped as she considered this. “Am I cool, Jack?”
Jack caught the tire as it swung back to him and held it. “Maya, you’re the coolest kid I’ve ever met.” Then he sent her flying.
My throat burned. Shit, he was going to be so good for her.
Her eyes closed in perfect bliss as the wind ruffled the curls that had come loose from her braid. My fingers itched to sketch the scene, so I took a quick photo with my phone to use as a reference later. I wished he could see the look on her face right then. How happy she was. How carefree.
He couldn’t see it. But I saw it.
And I would do anything to keep it there.
“Walk me through a typical day.”
Maya had gone to bed ten minutes ago, leaving Jack and I to hash out the details of our arrangement. Jack relaxed on the swing, his arm stretched along the back but his body contained to his half, making it clear that there was room on the swing for two. I leaned against the porch rail, which happened to be conveniently out of touching, tasting, and smelling distance of the world’s most tempting manny. Alas, I could still see him. No matter how much I tried to lock my eyeballs on the twilight blue sky, my gaze kept sliding his way.
“Maya is happiest when we follow a routine. We’re not rigid about it over the summer, but keeping regular meals and rest times helps prevent meltdowns. She’s normally up between seven and seven-thirty. I make her scrambled eggs and toast with jam for breakfast. On Sundays we have pancakes. I don’t have to be at the bar until eleven, so next week I’ll take her to school as usual. You don’t need to be on manny duty until pickup time at three.”
“I don’t mind taking her,” Jack offered. “Yesterday was my last day at Lodestar. They’ve already found a cowboy to replace me, so I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“Thanks, but I try to spend as much time with Maya in the mornings as possible because once I get home from work it’s just a sprint through dinner and bedtime. Save your stamina for the summer. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
At the sound of his deep, rumbly laugh, my eyes darted his way again. Still mouthwateringly hot.
“Ace, I’ve got more than enough stamina to go around,” he said, his voice threaded with laughter.
The memory of him lifting my body against the wall while he kissed me senseless and then tossing me on the bed where he then fucked me senseless made my breath stutter. Yes, the man had stamina. That was undeniable. I stared blindly at the darkening sky while heat scorched my cheeks.
“So what comes after breakfast, once school is over?” he asked, sounding completely unbothered by his accidental double entendre.
Apparently I was the only one with a dirty mind. I really needed to get a grip on the horniness. I couldn’t be lusting after my daughter’s manny.Tacky, my mother’s voice whispered in my head. But it was Dad’s disappointed silence and the way his gaze never quite met mine that hurt the most.
I folded my arms and pulled myself together. “Physical therapy. She hates it, but it needs to be done. When school is in session, we aim for three days a week. Over the summer, she should be going through the movements most days. She sees a therapist twice a month to check her progress and keep her moving forward.”
Jack’s forehead furrowed and he sat up straight. “Was Maya injured?”
“No, nothing like that. She has low muscle tone. It’s not uncommon in autistic kids.” I chewed my lip, thinking over how to explain it to a man who was so clearly physically gifted. “She’s not weak, exactly. Her muscles are soft. Kind of, um, floppy? Like a stretched out rubber band. It means she has to work twice as hard as other kids to do things like sit up straight or write a letter by hand. Physical activity can tire her out pretty easily. I have a printout of her PT routine so you can look it over. It’s a lot of planks, balancing on one foot, body weight squats, that kind of thing.”
“I can do that.” His gaze was serious. “I still have my own PT to do. We can do it together.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Tell me about the meltdowns. What are her triggers?”
“Overwhelm, mostly. Especially when it comes on suddenly. Like, loud noises, bright lights, lots of commotion. If she’s overtired or overstimulated.”
“So, fireworks on the Fourth of July is out.”
“Definitely.” I blew out a slow breath and rubbed the bittersweet ache out of my chest.
The Fourth of July had always been my favorite holiday. I fuckinglovedfireworks and parades, everyone cheering and clapping as we all enjoyed the spectacle together. It had been years since I’d done any of that. Now we spent the holiday inside, watchingHamiltonfor the millionth time. And it was great. I loved our tradition, too.
But I would always be a little sad that I couldn’t share one of my favorite things with the person I loved the most.
It was one of the things I never said out loud. Having that thought at all made me feel guilty, like I was betraying Maya in some way.
“She has friends,” I blurted out. Okay, that might have sounded a wee bit defensive, judging from the way Jack’s eyebrows went up. “I just…I feel like I’m giving you all these reasons to not like her, but the truth is I think she’s amazing. She’s smart and funny and even though it’s really hard for her to see someone else’s point of view, she cares enough to try.”
