15. Jensen

After ten days, Jensen had had enough.

It wasn't the endless meetings that were driving him insane, or being surrounded by lawyers squawking over finances, or signing endless papers promising astronomical sums of money to continue work on the developments that had already begun, bridging the gap that Euan had left.

It wasn't even the daily video calls with Felix and Talia, reminding him of just how far away he was.

No, it was Talia's visits from that smarmy little prick Quinn that got him—and the helpful face recognition cameras that sent a notification to Jensen's phone every time Quinn knocked on the door.

Was Quinn doing anything wrong? No. But fuck, at this point Jensen was looking for any excuse he could to hate the bastard.

Bringing Talia a smoothie only for it to contain banana, which she was apparently allergic to. Had Jensen known that? No. Did he hate Quinn for not knowing that? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Jensen had never been a jealous type before, but there was something about Talia that sent him out of his mind with jealousy. Was it because she was the mother of his child? Maybe. Maybe not.

He recalled her back on the stage at Lux. He'd felt it then, or at least a hint of it. Back then, he'd rationalised it as wanting to protect her from the vultures bidding on her, hiding his lust from even himself.

Jensen leant back against the seat, jostled as the Stone Holdings private jet landed on the runway, finally back on British soil. He'd been glued to his phone for most of the journey, fending off requests from his lawyers.

But in between, he'd been checking on little Felix, the camera's night vision allowing Jensen to see him clearly.

The double standard wasn't lost on him.

If Quinn had fitted a security system in Talia's home, then secretly given himself access to it without her knowledge, Jensen would have murdered the bastard.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong.

Perhaps that was why he wasn't judging himself as harshly as he would have judged Quinn. Jensen knew he wasn't going to do anything perverted with the footage. He wasn't going to start watching Talia undressing or bathing.

When Talia sat down in the armchair in Felix's room, Jensen always switched off. Because he knew that was the chair in which she breastfed. And when Talia was in the shower, Jensen always kept an eye on Felix in his room.

He may have been halfway around the world over the last week, but he had to start parenting somewhere.

Grabbing his suitcase, Jensen descended the stairs as soon as the pilot gave him the all clear, pleased to see his cab waiting for him a short distance away. Even then, the morning rush hour meant it took him over an hour to reach his flat in Mayfair.

He was there just long enough to shower before jumping back in the cab, keeping an eye on his watch all the way. Just as they were coming up on the leisure centre's address, Jensen's phone beeped with yet another message, but he ignored it, exiting the cab as quickly as he'd entered it.

Because he'd seen exactly who he came here to meet.

Through the glass doors of the leisure centre, Talia stood at the reception desk, her long red hair drawn up in a tight bun. The pushchair faced away from him, towards the large window at the end of the room through which a large swimming pool could be seen. "We're here for the baby swimming class," she said, just as he came in.

"Talia," he breathed, jogging over to them.

Her eyes widened in shock. "Jensen! How… What are you doing here?"

"Last night when you mentioned how much Felix loved his swimming lessons," Jensen leant his elbow on the reception desk. "I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss is about."

"You're supposed to be in New York."

He let his gaze swing across to the pushchair, where he could just see Felix's little legs kicking. "Am I though?"

The muscles around her lips twitched, attempting to hide her smile. "Come on then. The corridor to the viewing area is that way. We'll see you in a bit."

Bending down to greet Felix, Jensen smiled and patted his bag. "I brought my swimming trunks. Didn't I, wee man?"

"You're going to swim with us?" Her lips parted with surprise, her eyes flicking down to his body. "In only shorts?"

Fuck, she looked adorable like that. "Is that allowed?" He kissed Felix's chubby little hand, letting his son pat his cheek.

"Of course, I just didn't expect…" Trailing off, she inclined her head towards the changing room sign, wearing an unreadable expression. "We best get changed then."

The overwhelming smell of chlorine greeted them as they walked through the double doors and arrived at another sign, except this one gave them three options: men, women, or families.

"Do you want me to come in with you to help with Felix?" he asked quietly.

Talia shook her head. "It's okay. I'm used to doing everything by myself." At his flinch, she retraced her steps. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Don't apologise," he said gently. "You're not wrong. I'll see you out there, all right? Give me a shout if you need anything."

Making his way through to the men's changing rooms, Jensen quickly changed into his swimming trunks, but it wasn't until the side-eye began that he realised he'd forgotten to consider something.

His burn scars.

The boys were obvious, glancing at him with eyes as wide as saucers, but at least the men were more subtle about it.

Shoving his clothes into a locker, Jensen walked barefoot through to the main pool area. Patches of water littered the tiles underfoot. Children's shouts and squeals echoed around the space, occasionally followed by a lifeguard's predictable bellow of, "No running around the pool."

Jensen followed the signs to the baby pool. A woman wearing a pink-and-blue swim shirt and shorts guarded the entrance, her hands gripping a clipboard. "This is the baby pool only, I'm afraid," she told him, giving him and his scars a cool look.

"I'm just waiting for my son and his mother to come out of the changing rooms," he explained patiently.

The woman softened somewhat. "And what's their names?"

"Talia and Felix… Llewellyn," he said slowly. He'd never considered Felix's last name before, but it would be Llewellyn, wouldn't it? That was Euan's surname, and it stood to reason his daughters would have his name. As would his grandson.

From far away, Jensen heard the woman telling him where to wait.

Of course Felix would have Talia's surname. He just hadn't expected how much that would unsettle him. Was that sexist? Why did Felix's surname being Llewellyn fill him with so much unease?

After a few moments of internal debate, Jensen landed on the root cause.

It wasn't the surname itself that was the issue. It was the fact that Talia had had no other option when naming Felix.

It was a representation of Jensen's failures as a father.

He hadn't been there for his son. He hadn't been there for Talia. Felix had come into the world with no other option but to take his mother's surname. At least if Jensen had been there from the beginning, their son would have had options. Even if he and Talia had decided to name him Llewellyn after all, that would have been a decision they came to together.

A sharp poke on his arm got his attention.

"Excuse me?" said a high voice.

Jensen blinked down to see a small blond boy standing before him. He couldn't be any older than eight. "Yes, mate?" he responded, seeing Talia coming towards him, little Felix on her hip and a towel around her waist.

The boy pointed up at him. "How did you get your scars?"

He said the first child-friendly thing that came to his mind. "I fought off a shark."

"Did you really?" the boy gasped, jumping back slightly.

"I did."

Punching an exaggerated fist through the air, almost throwing himself off balance on the wet floor, the little boy exclaimed, "Did you punch it?"

"I did," Jensen said again. "It was being a naughty shark."

"A shark?" Talia asked, her brows drawn down in confusion.

"He fought off a shark!" the boy said excitedly, his voice echoing around them.

"Call me if you see any in the pool," he added to the boy, who took off skipping towards a group of children having a pool noodle fight.

"You never told me about any shark," Talia hefted Felix higher on her hip, watching as he reached out to Jensen. She wore a swimshirt and shorts, rather than a typical swimming costume, whilst Felix wore a green onesie covered in seahorses.

Jensen shrugged at her, a half grin on his face. He took Felix's little hand, "A man doesn't like to boast."

For some reason, that made Felix erupt in a burbling giggle.

"Felix has it right," Talia said tartly, humour underpinning her voice. "Men love to boast. Especially about things that are utterly mediocre."

"Fighting off a shark is not mediocre."

She gave him a look, ducking behind Felix's head to hide her grin.

"Talia and Felix?" the clipboard woman called from beside the baby pool, tapping a pen against the paper.

"We've got Felix's dad with us today, is that okay?"

Jensen almost stumbled as he walked behind her, carefully treading across the tiles.

Felix's dad.

Dad.

How had it not struck him until this moment how significant being a dad really was?

He'd called himself Felix's father before, but dad was something more intimate, wasn't it?

He had to earn that.

Jensen offered Talia a steadying hand as the two of them followed the gentle slope down into the baby pool. The warm water lapped at their feet, gradually submersing them, a change from the ladders usually offered by swimming pools.

Felix seemed at home in the water, squealing with happiness when it reached his toes.

"They usually give us some free play time at the start and end," Talia told him. "Apparently it creates a positive association with the water, doesn't it cyw?"

Felix babbled, reaching for one of the toys in the water.

"Cyw?" Jensen asked, pushing a toy pufferfish closer to his son. "What does that mean?"

"It's Welsh. For chick. It's what Dad always called Darcy and I when we were kids."

"Do you speak Welsh then?" It occurred to him just how little he knew about the mother of his child. He knew Euan's first language was Welsh, but from what Jensen had gathered he'd lived in London for the past thirty years.

Talia nodded, giving Felix a bit more room to kick in the pool. "He thought it was important. And it was handy for me. I got a Welsh GCSE and A Level without any study at all." She rubbed Felix's arm. "Do you want to show Dadda how good you are in the water today?"

Trying not to show how hard that first Dadda hit him, Jensen almost balked. "He can move around by himself?"

"Of course. He's been coming here since he was eight weeks old. When the instructor comes over, you can see what he can do."

They didn't have to wait long.

"Hello Felix," the instructor greeted them, wearing the same pink-and-blue swim shirt as the clipboard woman. "And we've got Dad here as well, I hear?"

"We have indeed," Talia smiled, passing Felix to the instructor.

"Ready to start today then, Felix?" the instructor asked, smiling at him. "We're going to practice floating first, all right?"

Felix quietened as the instructor leant him back in the water, supporting him with her hand until he was flat on his back.

"And if I take my hand away…"

Jensen was amazed to see that Felix kept himself there, his curious eyes gazing all around, crinkling at the edges when he looked at Talia.

The instructor was only just getting started. "So if the two of you stand over there," she pointed a couple of feet away, "and I'll let him set off."

Obeying, Jensen stood with Talia. Surely Felix wasn't going to swim that distance by himself?

But the instructor held Felix upright, letting him lean forwards out of her arms… and sink beneath the water.

"Jesus." Jensen moved without thought, only for Talia to slap her arm across his scarred ribs.

"Just watch him," she commanded. "Look."

Instincts burning his insides, he watched, amazed to see that Felix hadn't sunk; he was actively swimming beneath the water, quickly bridging the short distance between them.

"Let him surface by himse—" the instructor began, but Felix had already popped his head up above the water, wet eyelashes clumped together.

Jensen gathered his son in his arms, peppering kisses onto his soaking wet hair and making him giggle. "How did you learn to do that?"

That, apparently, was only the beginning.

From propelling himself around holding a pool noodle to rolling onto his back to ‘walking' along a row of plastic stepping stones just under the water, Felix could do it all.

During the free play at the end of the session, he and Talia sat on the plastic stepping stones, each holding one of Felix's hands as he stood between them. That was one of the rules: babies were not allowed to swim by themselves unless supervised by an instructor.

Leaning back against the side of the pool, Jensen supported Felix as he clambered onto his lap—although he did quickly cover his groin when his son came a tad close to standing on his bollocks. "Not there," he grunted quickly. "Or you'll be an only child."

A moment later, he realised what he'd said, snapping his gaze to Talia. "I didn't mean—"

She gave him an easy look. "I know."

His lip curved slowly, easing a sigh from his lungs. "You're a wonderful mother, Talia. Truly." Felix wrapped his arms around Jensen's neck, and he smiled. "I couldn't have wanted anyone better for my son, could I, wee man?"

Beneath the water, Talia took his hand. "Thank you for not running away the moment you learnt of his existence."

Jensen shook his head, gazing into Felix's eyes—the same vivid sapphire of his own. "No. You'll never be rid of me now, baby girl."

The shy smile she gave him evoked a twisting in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

By the time the three of them strolled into the leisure centre's café for lunch, Jensen was famished. And exhausted. He'd barely slept on the plane, and the last thing he'd eaten had been dinner in New York some eighteen hours ago.

They sat in a secluded corner at the back, where the constant tinkling of plates and cups and the chattering patrons was quieter. There was naught to keep out the rich, lustrous smell of coffee wafting through the air, nor the occasional scent of bacon sizzling in a pan.

As soon as the food was placed in front of him, his stomach gnawed incessantly, the smell making him even hungrier.

Even so, he noticed that Talia wasn't eating hers; she was focusing on spoon-feeding Felix, her food going cold as it sat in front of her.

He wondered how often her food had gone cold as she'd had to put Felix's needs before her own.

"May I feed him?" Jensen asked softly.

Talia's surprised eyes flicked between him and his food, sitting on the slightly sticky dark wood table. "Don't you want to eat?"

He shook his head.

As they passed him between them, Felix's face fell as his food was momentarily taken away from him, but he perked up again once he was in Jensen's lap. He was surprisingly obedient as Jensen offered him spoonful after spoonful, happily leaning back into his embrace.

Sometimes he'd seen Warren with Lucie, gazing on his daughter with such affection that it was almost tangible. He'd never expected to feel it himself, but as he sat there with his son, Jensen knew he'd go to the ends of the earth for this little boy. He could feel it in his chest, the physical weight of having a child.

His heart was no longer his own; it belonged to Felix.

It wasn't until the jar of baby food was empty that Jensen realised he was being watched.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, blinking out of his reverie.

Talia smiled, the plate on the table in front of her now empty. "It's still strange watching you together. I've had eighteen months of thinking Felix would never meet his father. And then suddenly you're here."

Jensen's chest clenched at the idea of never knowing about his son. "I'm sorry for everything you had to go through. Both of you."

She shrugged, as though it had all been as easy as breathing. Standing, she put Felix back in his pushchair, giving him a small selection of toys to play with. "I'm not. Because without it I wouldn't have Felix."

The edge of his lip twitched. "It's strange to think of."

"What is?"

"When I walked into that room to see you kneeling on the floor…" Jensen trailed off, sharing a look with her.

Talia was silent for a long moment. "Did you… did you ever think of me?"

Yes, he wanted to say. Constantly.

There had been times he'd wanted to catch the next plane to New York and storm into Columbia University. The memories of her touch, her kiss, her moans, and the soft words they'd shared between it all had never been far from his mind.

He'd stayed away from her not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do.

Talia was too young for him.

He'd served his purpose in her life. He'd given her the money needed to finish her education.

"Talia…" he began, his throat jumping with a swallow.

But she shook her head, plastering a false smile onto her face. "Forget I asked, it was a silly question."

Against every decent instinct in his body, Jensen took her hand. The feel of her skin struck him like lightning, sending shards of need throughout his body. "You're my best friend's daughter," he said hoarsely.

Her eyes were wide. "So what?"

"I'm trying to be decent." As decent as a convicted murderer can be. He breathed, turning to glance out of the window before admitting defeat. "Even if it goes against every instinct I have when it comes to you."

Talia sucked in a breath. "What kind of instincts?"

"You were there in that room in New York," he murmured, trailing a light touch over her palm. "You know exactly what kind."

A flirtatious sparkle glittered in her eyes. "Maybe I've forgotten."

"No, you haven't," he reassured her, all arrogance and surety. His gaze turned molten as the memories of that night came to the forefront of his mind. "And neither have I."

Something occurred to him.

"That… footrest," Jensen chose his words carefully, unable to stop a grin curling his lips. "Did you ever buy one of those for yourself?" Like he'd told her to. Like she'd promised.

Somewhat guiltily, Talia shook her head.

Hmm. He'd have to rectify that.

Not that Jensen blamed her. He was grateful she even entertained the thought of him being involved in Felix's life after what had transpired between them.

After lunch, Jensen walked Talia and Felix out to her car, secretly loving her amazement when he was able to collapse the pushchair and put Felix in his car seat with ease.

"How did you know how to do all of that?" she asked, smiling when he opened the car door for her.

Jensen shrugged. "I'm his father. It's my job to know."

Talia paused before she sat down, glancing up at him. "Thank you for coming today."

"Thank you for letting me. I meant what I said. I want to be a proper father to him, and a proper…" Jensen looked around for the right word, "co-parent to you."

"Co-parent," she repeated. "Is that what we would've been had I got your note after that night?"

"I honestly don't know."

"What was in it again?"

Knowing what he knew now, it was almost painful to recall. "I asked you out for dinner, and left my business card next to it."

Biting her lip, she surprised him. "Maybe we can start where we left off. As parents, I mean."

Jensen could take a hint. "So if I asked you out to a parent dinner tomorrow night…?"

"I'd say," she smirked flirtatiously, sitting down in the car, "I'm going to Celestial for my sister Darcy's birthday tomorrow night."

Jensen knew it. A nightclub turned art installation turned psychedelic experience. He'd driven past it many times on the way to Warren and Kate's house.

He stepped away as she closed the car door, the engine purring into life, but then Talia's window wound down.

"But I'd encourage you to try again another time, Jay," she winked at him, pulling out of the leisure centre's car park.

Jensen's predatorial grin was slow as it spread across his face, his heart pumping faster in his chest.