Page 109 of The Art of Being Merry
“What’s going on here?” Dax’s voice booms through the evening air. He seeks me out, his face a myriad of emotions.
“Daddy came for dinner,” Atlas supplies, his tone chipper.
“Daddy?” Dax repeats, his gaze not leaving mine.
“Daddy,” I confirm, trying not to give away how I’m feeling. Not yet. Not until the boys are out of sight. “He’s taking them for Christmas Eve dinner.” I’m not sure if I achieved the goal as my voice catches.
“And he brought presents,” Jace adds from the back seat.
I hope that’s true. They’ll be so disappointed if not. Not that they’ve asked if Daddy had presents for them, but now that he’s here and saying these things, I hope he follows through. For once in his life.
Atlas runs up to Dax. “We’re gonna eat dinner with our dad, but we’ll be home in time for the plans for Santa, k?” There’s so much hope in his voice, but I’m not worried about Dax’s response.
“Sounds good, Ace. Have a good meal with your dad, and I’ll see you later.”
Atlas lights up at Dax’s words and throws his arms around him. When Keith clears his throat, Atlas quickly lets go. Damn bastard. Atlas isn’t confused about who his father is.
“See you later.” I steal another hug before he climbs into Keith’s car, Keith slamming the door behind him.
“Does Atlas know your address so I can drop them off?”
“Yeah, they both know it. Can’t give you directions though.”
“Eight good?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Keith’s eyes flick to the man standing behind me, most likely shooting daggers his way. “Uh, once they’re in bed, can we talk?”
“No. I have nothing to say to you unless it’s about them.”
He nods quickly.Tooquickly. “Yeah, it is.”
Sure, I believe that.
My lawyer would tell me to give him a chance, hear him out, and as soon as the conversation veers away from the kids, I can be done.
“Okay,” I agree reluctantly.
I hope I know what I’m doing.
33
dax
Clementine’sentire demeanor is off. Hunched shoulders, crossed arms, agreeing to chat with the ex. Bullshit it’s about the boys.
My fingers curl into fists at my sides, wanting to punch the guy but having to restrain myself. He’s done nothing wrong at the moment, and I would never put Clementine in that spot. Won’t give him the upper hand when I’d be the one hauled off in handcuffs. I don’t need the boys seeing that.
The minute the car pulls away from the curb, she breaks. I’m there to catch her before she collapses to the ground. She burrows her head against my chest, her arms gripping my back, holding on like a lifeline.
“Shh. I got you.” I whisper more soothing words into her neck, words of comfort, anything to make her feel better.
“Fucker just showed up here with no warning. Let himself into the B and B, too,” Willa states, anger in her tone. “How did he know where they were?”
My hackles rise. He showed up here unannounced? That must have been a shock for her. For all of them. The boys seemed okay leaving with him, and once Clementine’s calmer, I’ll get her to explain the rest.
She pulls her head away from my chest, twin tracks of tears cascading down her cheeks. She peers up at me, so much sadnessin her expression. Which sucks because it’s fucking Christmas Eve. No one should be sad.
