7. Wyla

Chapter 7

Okay, Wyla, let's count all the reasons we're not going to give into Jett's charms. One, he lives in Seattle. Two, you don't really know him; he's only your baby's father . Three, he… I glance over at him in my passenger seat, and my eyes linger on his long muscular arms.

I'm fucked.

It's a bad idea, Wyla. It won't work. He lives on the other side of the country. There's no way I could move that far away from my family… take Stevie that far away from everyone and everything she knows.

But what if he stayed here? No, not possible. He said he enjoys his job. Hell, he practically said he would play now if they would let him. If he stayed here, he'd be giving that up, and I can't let him do that. He'd probably end up resenting me for making him choose.

Suddenly, all of the snide remarks all of the old, small town people made when they found out I was pregnant out of wedlock come flooding in.

"Oh, you'll have to lower those standards of yours now. Can't let this baby grow up without a father."

"Men in my day would stay and stick it out."

Well you know what, I don't want to force Jett to "stick it out." I am not an obligation, and there was no way Jett wanted more from me the morning after. I know yesterday, he said he did but emotions were high… he couldn't have wanted more. The want now is nothing more than righting a wrong in disguise. That whole "sticking it out" bullshit, those old bitties would say… I'm sure of it.

But then again, they would also say… "Settling isn't a bad thing when it means you'll be a family."

We pull into the driveway which, thankfully, pulls me out of my downward spiral. Motherhood is fucking hard. Just one day, I'd like to have one day where I feel confident I'm doing something right for my daughter without feeling like I'm also taking two steps back.

I unbuckle Stevie, and she races to the door. "Poppy, we're home!" she squeals.

By the time Jett and I make it in, Stevie has already gotten Poppy out of her kennel and is rolling on the floor, giggling as Poppy licks her face. This is their standard greeting, and it's so adorable.

I let them continue to love each other until I get to the back door. Holding it open, I whistle, getting Poppy's attention. "Come on, Pops, bathroom."

Poppy listens, and I close the door behind her. She's a really great dog. I'll admit, I was a little nervous when I brought Stevie home with how that transition would go, but Poppy is so patient with Stevie, like no dog I've seen.

I still remind Stevie that she's a dog and can't communicate that she wants space like we do, so to not be hanging over her all the time. But Stevie is a bit of a clinger when she wants to be.

Jett places the bags of fast food on the kitchen table. He insisted on buying our lunch, even though I said I would.

"Mommy, can we do a picnic with our lunch?" Stevie asks, reaching her little hand into one of the bags to fish out a french fry.

We really couldn't have asked for a prettier day today. It's a sunny seventy-five degrees, and every now and then, a nice cool breeze blows through. It's hard to really say no. "Sure, Stevie, we can do that."

We take the food out to the back patio and sit at the wooden table my dad made for me last year. I hand my bag of food to Jett and turn the knob to open the umbrella .

"I would have gotten that for you, Wy." Jett laughs when I struggle to get it started. After not using it all winter, it seems to have rusted a little.

"I got it," I reply, and add a little more force. I know it's just an umbrella and it's not that deep, but I have to be able to do things on my own. I may have found Jett, but that doesn't mean I won't be alone when he leaves. That thought makes me sick to my stomach but also gives me the determination to turn the damn knob.

After I get it all the way up, we sit down. I sort out Stevie's food first, then do the same with mine. I pick up my chicken sandwich to take my first bite when Stevie decides she needs something.

"Mommy, I want some ketchup."

"Please?" I correct her.

"Please," she sings back.

I sigh, setting down my food. This is usually how meals go. "Okay, I'll be—"

"I'll go get it," Jett says, beating me up from the table.

"You don't have to, Jett. I can—"

"I know you can. It's ketchup, Wyla. Eat your food, I'll go get it. Is it in the fridge?"

"Yes," I mumble .

He nods and goes back inside. Again, I know it's not that deep, but these are things I do. I pay for food. I open the umbrella. I go get something when she needs it.

"Daddy's nice, don't ya think, mommy?" Stevie asks with a bite of chicken nugget in her mouth.

My shoulders slump. "Yeah, he is." I can feel the pain at the end of these two weeks already, which sucks because I have a lifetime of this to go. Hopefully, these unresolved feelings for Jett will go away with time… or lessen, at least.

Too many memories of our night five years ago have come back to the front of my brain. Surely, all those moments—and orgasms—are just being exaggerated. I mean the sex was great, but was it really that great?

Jett opens the door, walking back out. He fills out those jeans and t-shirt too well. I definitely know my brain downplayed his looks. My first thought when he smiles at me is there is only one way to know for sure.

No. Bad Wyla.

You know you want to.

"Here we are." Jett sets the bottle down on the table, but I'm too lost in thought to notice.

All I can think about now is what it would be like to have his mouth on me… on my lips, on my neck, on my—

"Wy?" Jett pulls me out of my soon-to-be very inappropriate daydream—or memory, really.

"Right, sorry." I give Stevie a small amount of ketchup, knowing too much would result in her wearing it.

I snap the lid closed and set it back down. My brain is all twisted now. All I can think about is that night and how it would compare to now, probably because it was the last time I have actually had sex… ugh, that can't be true, can it?

Nope, it definitely was. I honestly don't think I have missed it much these past few years… I mean, my vibrator does the job. It's not like I've really had the time to date—not that I've even entertained that idea either.

I've completely made being a mom my personality. Not to mention, the thought of Stevie getting attached to a man who wasn't a for sure thing… immediate turn off.

But I've been around Jett for half a day today, and damn it, I want him. I want that reminder of sex. No, I want the reminder of sex with Jett. I want that feeling of being worshiped by him again. Maybe he's gotten selfish in bed over the years? I doubt it. I want a toe curling orgasm, and I want Jett to give it to me. Need it really.

Fuck, I need to get this lust under control.

Okay, let's think of turn-offs... Um, my to-do list should do. I think I left a load of laundry in the dryer. I need to make sure I put those clothes away. Today is Sunday, and I can't recall the last time I washed my hair, so I should probably do that. Before you judge, I shower, I just don't always shampoo my hair.

Okay, I think this is helping. I need to get gas tomorrow morning, so I need to leave ten minutes earlier for work than usual.

I feel a nudge on my arm. "Mommy!"

"Hmm?" I jump, pulled from my deep focus on mundane things, realizing I haven't listened to a single word they've said these past few minutes. I would have sworn no one was talking. "Sorry, Stevie. What is it?"

Stevie exasperates. "Mommy, we've been trying to talk to you for forever. You weren't listening."

I turn to Stevie, who now has ketchup all around her mouth. I take this opportunity to wipe her mouth with a napkin. "Forever seems like a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

She tries to wiggle away from me. "No, it's not. You weren't listening to me or Daddy."

Finally, satisfied that the ketchup is mostly gone, I put the napkin off to the side. "You're right, baby. I'm sorry. What were you two talking about?"

We talk for the next hour about many things I'm pretty sure went in my ear and out the other since I spent most of the meal thinking about Jett naked. I want to know if he still has that rock hard chest that has a bit of chest hair on it. Does he still have those abs and is his dick really as big as I'm remembering?

What was my to-do list again? Now the only thing I can remember being on it is Jett.

After we finished up our lunch, Stevie wanted to play on her swing set for a bit. It took a lot of my will power, but I backed off and let him take over pushing her on the swing and having him hold her hand down the slide the first few times until she gained her confidence.

I feel like a fucking crazy person right now. Part of me is absolutely reeling that Jett's here, and I cannot get the idea of jumping his bones out of my mind. The other part is a mixture of both extreme guilt and being fucking terrified. Guilt for not finding him sooner and the years he missed because of my actions. Soul crushing fear that finding him is going to result in complete and utter heartbreak.

I've never really allowed myself to think about what would happen if I found Jett much after Stevie was born. During pregnancy, those thoughts usually led to me crying profusely from all the hormones. Either because I felt like I'd never find anyone to love me since I was this girl who got pregnant and didn't know her baby's father, or because all of this was my fault to begin with.

The whole time we are outside I can feel Jett's eyes on me. I'm careful not to meet them, because I know my face isn't doing the best job of hiding my emotions. It never has been.

After getting her fill on the playset, we head back inside per Stevie's next request of the day, which is to watch Tangled, for the zillionth time. She watches it intently at first and narrates parts for Jett as if he isn't watching it with her, even though I do feel his eyes on me quite a bit… which Stevie also catches a time or two and tells him to pay attention to her favorite parts.

But just as Rapunzel shows Flynn Rider her magic hair, we lose her. She conks out on my lap. Naps with Stevie can be a real hit or miss. At some point in the day, she usually takes one, but it either lasts a good twenty minutes or she'll be down for two hours.

Jett laughs quietly looking down at her as she lets out a small snore. "Think we might have worn her out."

I brush some hair from her face. "Yeah, I'd say so." I want to scoop her up and take her to her bed, but she's laying at a weird angle, and I'm afraid I'll jostle her awake if I try. "Can you help me carry her to her room? "

Jett nods, and stands to pick her up. I don't dare to turn off the movie until I know she's fully asleep in her bed. I've transferred her enough times to know that any small change has the potential to wake her up.

Once he has her in his arms, I lead him into her room and quickly turn on her sound machine. Jett places her down on her bed slowly. It threatens to bring a smile to my face watching him with her. He probably would have really loved the baby stage… and he didn't get to be a part of it.

He covers her up with a blanket then picks up some of the others. "Does she really need all of these blankets?" he whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back. "Hurry up, we're on borrowed time here."

He shakes his head and lays the rest of the blankets on top of her. He takes a step back and smiles at her. "She looks so cute when she's asleep. I mean she's always cute but—"

Suddenly Stevie wiggles in her sleep, and I'm pretty sure we both hold our breath until she snuggles up to a blanket and settles back down.

"Okay, time to go," I say, and take his hand without thought and lead him out of her room. When I realize what I've done, I drop his hand quickly and close her door .

"Sorry," I mumble as I pass by him back into the living room. Not that I think he cares I took his hand, but I do. Touching him was a bad impulse on my part.

Seems silly to get all worked up over holding his hand, but I've spent the past couple hours trying to remember what they felt like. Those strong, calloused hands I now know have come from years of playing baseball, not any of the other jobs I had pictured for him before.

Memories that have been on replay come to the front of my brain. I pick up the remote to click off the movie, mostly because I need to have something else in my hand to distract me.

I can feel Jett watching me intently, as if he could read my mind if he tried hard enough. "Wy, if you want me to head out, I can."

I sigh and hang my head. I've probably come off like such a bitch today. "No, I'm sorry. I…" I can't think of any excuse that sounds reasonable. I've been overwhelmed? No shit, so has he, but he's not acting all weird. I'm burying myself in guilt? Can't tell him that, he'll try to tell me it's okay, but it's not. Um, I'm horny and can't stop thinking of you naked? Yeah, I just need to shut my mouth.

He takes a dangerous step in and tucks my hair behind my ear. "Talk to me, Wyla. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours? "

Jett's hand trails from my ear, down my jaw, to my chin and tilts it up for my eyes to meet his. Those damn blue eyes don't even have a hint of anger or resentment. All day they've had nothing but pure joy in them, which has only made my mixed emotions worse.

And now he's looking at me like if he could fix what's bothering me, he would do it in a heartbeat. He's looking at me like I'm this treasure he's been searching for and finding me wasn't at all a disappointment.

Damn, to-do list, what was my fucking to-do list?

My gaze goes down to his lips… oh right, Jett.

My hands go to his face, pulling him to me because if I don't feel the reminder of his lips on mine, I'll go insane. And I think he feels the same because he pulls my body flush to his and kisses me relentlessly.

I swear, it's even better than I remember. Kissing shouldn't feel this good, but the feel of his tongue against mine almost sets me over the edge. Fuck, this is addicting.

I climb up him and wrap my legs around his waist. He backs up to the couch falling back so I'm straddling him. I can't help but let my hands travel down to his chest and his go up to my hair.

More. More. I want more. I slide my hands under his shirt to feel him. Feel his hard chest… just like I remember. I involuntarily grind my hips, and something else is definitely hard. I let out a groan. I want him so badly.

Jett cups my ass and squeezes, moving my hips again. Our kiss becomes messy, and I'm pretty sure the only goal here is to completely consume each other. I can't break away from his mouth, and my hips start a steady rhythm. Even through our jeans, I swear he's gotten bigger.

Everything about this feels amazing, and neither of us have even shed a single article of clothing yet.

Jett moves his arms around my back and turns us, so I'm now laying back on the couch, and he's on top of me. I welcome the weight of his body against mine. "Jett," I moan when he starts to rock against me and kisses down my neck.

His hand slides under my shirt and starts to palm one of my breasts while the other stays underneath me, squeezing my ass. Jett kisses up my neck and nips my ear before whispering, "I'll never have enough of you. Five years did nothing to lessen my need for you." He kisses my neck again. "I guess we'll have to make up for lost time."

Red alert signs go flashing through my head. I shouldn't be doing this. I push back on his chest. "Wait, stop."

He pulls back off my chest but doesn't get off me entirely. Part of me doesn't want him to either. I hate the words that are about to leave my mouth. "We can't do this, Jett. We can't be together."

Jett furrows his brows as he processes what I said. He wants to push back. I know he does. He sighs. "Wy…"

I can't bear to hear his reasoning, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my mind. "No, I'm not someone to entertain you when you're in town. I'm the mother of your child, that's all." The words don't even feel right coming out. I don't think that's what I would be to him, but it sounds better than I'm scared… kind of.

I try to escape out from under him, but he only holds me closer. "Wyla, you would never be someone to just entertain me."

"Jett, you play in the major leagues. You travel all over the country for months. You live on the other side of the country. We won't work. Let this be what it was."

"And what was it, Wyla?"

I don't even know how to respond. This is me being selfish again. Me wanting him but not deserving it. Oh, man this hurts already. This is why us starting something is a bad idea.

"Wy…"

I close my eyes. He needs to understand. "Please, Jett. I don't think I'll survive your heartbreak."

Jett leans up, letting me up from the couch. Deep breaths Wyla. "I just can't… We need to focus on being her parents first. She deserves to be put first."

Jett stands up and cups my face. His shoulders drop as those deep blue eyes study me. "Wyla, she will always be first, but I don't understand why you can't be up there with her."

I feel the waterworks starting to force their way out. I swallow down the lump in my throat. "No, Jett. This is how it has to be."

Jett pulls me to him, and I don't have the will in me to fight him off. The truth is, I really don't want to, especially when he says, "If this can't happen again, then I need one more taste."

He kisses me hard, like it's a punishment hard. Never wanting to stop hard. It's almost enough to make me take back everything I just said, but then…

"Mommy! I need to go to the bathroom," Stevie yells.