Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Pulling into my driveway later on, I cut the engine. Dax’s car was nowhere to be seen. He’d informed me earlier that he “had business” with someone today but wouldn’t be back late. I hadn’t asked for specifics because there was no point—he very rarely gave me any.

Once I’d grabbed my shopping bags out of the trunk, I headed into the house. I went straight to the kitchen, where I found Gypsy lapping at the water in the bowl. “Hey, kitty cat.”

She straightened, swiping her small tongue over her mouth.

I reached down and gave her a long head-to-tail stroke. She arched into it, granted me the honor of also giving her head a light scratch, and then she haughtily waltzed away. “All right, then.”

I made a cup of tea and then went upstairs. There, I rested the cup on the dresser and plonked my purse and shopping bags on the bed. I unloaded said bags, taking out one item at a time—most were baby clothes, others were little things Marleigh would need.

Once I’d finished cooing over them, I began placing them back in the bags. I was almost done when I heard someone enter the house. There was also the sound of Dax’s voice, but the words were muffled. Since no other voices spoke, I guessed he was talking on the phone.

I heard him moving around downstairs. The muted sound of his footfalls steadily became louder until, finally, he entered the room just as he ended his call.

I smiled. “Hey, sugar bun.”

He blinked. “Sugar bun?”

“I figure I need to come up with a term of endearment for you, so I’m trying some out.” Someone needed to save him from how super serious he was. “Not sure sugar bun is the way to go, though. It sounded better in my head.”

Humor flickered across his face. “Right.” His gaze fell to the pile of tiny clothes, and his muscles minutely tensed.

“They’re for Marleigh and Ollie’s baby,” I told him. “You can relax, I’m not knocked up.” Despite what Felicity believed.

Which reminded me that I had a story to tell.

“Your shopping trip was productive, I see,” he said.

“It was a fun day. Aside from one teeny, weeny part. I was in a—”

His cell began to ring. Sighing, he fished his cell out of his pocket. His lips tightened. “I have to take this. Can you give me a second?”

I flicked my hand. “Yeah, there’s no rush.” As Dax left the room, I turned back to my purchases and then continued to reload the bags, intending to stash it all in my closet.

“Addison!”

I stilled, my brows dipping. There was no urgency in his voice. More like exasperation laced with incredulity. “What is it?” I called out as I made my way to the staircase.

“There’s something you need to see on the patio,” he replied.

I skipped down the stairs and walked straight outside. “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

He arched a brow and pointed a finger. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”

I looked down to see what he was pointing at and … oh. Clearing my throat, I scratched my neck. “You surely know enough about cats to be aware that it’s a gift.”

“What I know is that cats generally leave rodents as gifts, yes. They don’t usually sadistically savage them.”

No, they didn’t, but Gypsy was … different. Not about to admit that my pet was quite possibly as sadistic as he claimed, I raised my shoulders and said, “It would seem that things got out of hand. Maybe the mouse tried to flee or something.”

“So Gypsy felt the need to brutalize it? Makes sense,” he deadpanned.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll clean it up. Didn’t realize you’re so squeamish.”

“I’m not squeamish, I’m simply not keen on having mauled rodents and smears of blood left all over our patio.”

Yeah, it was quite a mess.

“It’s like she toyed with it before she killed it.”

“Cats have been known to play with—” I cut off at the knock on the front door. “You answer that. I’ll deal with the mouse.” Or what was left of it.

With a grunt, Dax walked away.

I headed straight to the kitchen and dug into a particular cupboard. Pulling out the dustpan and brush, I straightened.

And went still as a familiar voice reached me.

No, it couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t come here. He just wouldn’t.

But he had.

The words he spoke weren’t properly distinguishable, but I recognized his voice. What the hell was he thinking coming here?

I dropped the dustpan and brush on the floor and then began a swift walk down the hallway, following Dax’s voice coming from the living room …

“Let’s skip the small talk, Grayden,” he said, impatience coating every syllable. “I was clear you’d need to make this quick.”

“I get that I’m the last person you’d want to see,” said our visitor, his voice carefully steady, low, and appeasing. “I can understand if you’re pissed. You have every right to be. I’d be pissed in your position. But I’m not here to argue. I’m not here to make excuses. What happened earlier was not acceptable—I was very clear on that to Felicity.”

He was here about her scene, I realized. I could easily envision her returning to their home seething and ranting about me; could easily envision him panicking that she’d suffer for her actions.

“Believe me when I say I’m furious about it,” Grayden went on. “But I’m hoping we can avoid this turning into something ugly.”

I turned the corner that led into the living area just as Dax narrowed his eyes and asked, “What exactly is it you’re furious about?”

Grayden frowned, his neck stiff, his muscles strained. “You don’t know?”

As I stepped more fully into the room, the attention of both males transferred to me.

Suspicion and agitation warred for supremacy in Dax’s eyes. There was also an unspoken accusation there.

“I was about to spill everything,” I assured him. “But then your phone rang.”

I glanced at Grayden to see that a wounded look had crept over his face that broadcasted so much emotion. Anguish. Longing. Regret. Need.

I was sure there might have been a time when I’d looked at Grayden in much the same way. But those days were over.

Dax turned to me and folded his arms. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.” It was nothing short of a demand.

I swiped my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. “In short … Felicity saw I was in a children’s clothing boutique, marched inside and—mistakenly assuming I’m up the duff and that’s why you married me—accused me of getting pregnant to trap you, insisting my motivation was to spur Grayden into leaving her and coming back to me.” I shrugged.

“Wait,” began Grayden, his brow creased, “so you’re not pregnant?”

“No.” Yet.

The wrinkle in his brow smoothed out as relief flashed in his eyes, but then confusion flickered across his features. “If that’s not why you two got married out of the blue …” He didn’t add Why did you? but I heard it in his tone.

Uninterested in soothing his curiosity, I switched my attention back to Dax. He was staring at me, his eyes dark, his face hard.

“She thinks you’re pregnant?” asked Dax, his voice dangerously calm.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

A muscle slightly jumped in his cheek. “She thinks you’re pregnant … and she felt it was acceptable to confront you?” The latter words came out slow but sharp.

“Dax,” began Grayden, raising his splayed hands in a gesture of peace, “Felicity knows she messed up. She’s very upset with herself right now. She regrets what she did.”

Dax’s brows inched up. “Is that so? Then where is she? Why are you here making her apologies for her?”

Excellent question. Not that I’d expected her to show up or anything.

Grayden rubbed the side of his face. “I asked her to stay home. I knew you’d be upset.”

“Upset? That’s what you think I am?” Dax took a deliberate step toward him, the move all the more menacing for how lazy it was. “Under no circumstances at all should your woman feel that she has any right to confront mine,” he stated, his voice still calm yet filled with thorns and barbs. “The fact that she would dare do that while under the impression that Addison’s pregnant makes the matter even worse. ‘Upset’ is a mild word for what I’m feeling.”

Grayden carved a jerky hand through his hair. “Like I said, she knows she messed up. She feels terrible about it.”

Dax raised a contemptuous brow. “I highly doubt that.”

Funny. So did I.

“Tell me, Grayden, why is it she believes she can cross my wife and, by extension, me? I warned her what the consequences would be. Is she under the impression that I was bluffing?”

“She wasn’t thinking.” Grayden nervously rubbed his finger along the edge of his collar. “She reacted on emotion.”

“What emotion? How could it possibly impact her that Addison might be pregnant?” Dax clipped, unfolding his arms. “What in the fuck does it have to do with Felicity? Explain that to me.”

Closing his eyes, Grayden pinched the bridge of his nose. “It has nothing to do with her,” he softly admitted. “Emotions aren’t always rational, though, are they?” His eyes snapped open as he lowered his hand to his side. “Me and Felicity are trying for another baby. We’ve been trying for months. So far, nothing has happened.”

“And, what, she’s been confronting every pregnant woman she sees as a result of how bitter and jealous their condition makes her feel?”

Grayden spluttered. “No.”

“Just Addison, then?” Dax cast him a scathing look. “You said you didn’t come here to make excuses. But that’s very much what you’re doing.”

Yup. It stung to a degree—I’d cared for this man a lot once upon a time. But I wouldn’t expect him not to side with his partner. I’d sure side with Dax.

Loosely balling up his hand, Grayden rubbed a knuckle against his brow. “I just want to keep the peace.”

“Then you should have done as I told you and insisted that she heed my warning,” said Dax with not an inch of mercy. I didn’t view it as cold, though. He simply wasn’t a man who overlooked if anyone wronged him or those under his protection. Everyone knew that.

In that sense, Felicity had made her bed with full knowledge of the repercussions. If she believed she had a chance of escaping them, she only had herself to blame for that. Particularly since he’d given her a verbal warning already.

Cursing beneath his breath, Grayden turned to me. “I’m sorry for what Felicity did. She’s sorry. It was petty and mean, but can we not let this go any further?”

Dax took another lurching step toward him. “Don’t think to get around me that way. And don’t for one minute think that Addison owes your woman anything, least of all a free pass for reproaching her whenever she feels like it. Felicity has done it too many times—it ends now.”

Grayden scraped a hand over his face. “Wouldn’t you try to fix this if you were in my position, Dax? She’s the mother of my children. What else am I supposed to do? Stand back while you hurt her?”

“I have no intention of physically harming her, Grayden. I don’t beat women—you know that. She won’t be touched, but she’ll pay for what she did. You can’t prevent that.”

“And you think I’d let it go? That I won’t have you prosecuted—” He stopped speaking as a breathy chuckle came out of Dax.

“You could certainly try. But you’d have no case. There will be nothing to link me with what comes next. Your claims would be thrown out of court, if they even got that far.” Dax dismissed him with a look. “Now get out of my house.”

Grayden’s posture stooped. He looked at me, the picture of defeat. “I really am sorry for what happened.”

I believed him. Believed it genuinely pained him that she had targeted me this way. But I also believed he had no way of stopping her from doing it again, and so maybe it was best for everyone that Dax stepped in.

Grayden left, his shoulders slumped. I watched through the large floor-to-ceiling window as he strode down the driveaway, got into his car, and then drove off.

“I’m pissed that he threatened you with legal action, but I also know it was a total bluff,” I said, turning to meet Dax’s entrancing mismatched eyes—a storm of dark emotion still brewed there. “He’s just feeling powerless, and that’s a feeling he’s not used to.”

“You pity him,” sensed Dax.

“A little. The guy’s in an impossible situation. He won’t like how she behaves, he won’t want it to continue, but he’ll naturally try to save her from herself and others.”

“And it doesn’t hurt you that he’d essentially take her side?”

“It doesn’t feel nice, but I wouldn’t expect anything else. She’s his partner.” I cocked my head. “Why would you think it might hurt me? I told you I’m not holding a candle for him.”

“You did. But people have a way of hiding their feelings from themselves when they don’t want to confront them.”

“In other words, you believe I simply tell myself I don’t care for him but it’s not actually true?” I asked with some surprise.

Dax pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t say I firmly believe that’s the case, but I think it’s certainly possible.”

I felt my eyes narrow. “Why? Do you have some leftover feelings for the women in your past other than Gracie?”

“No. But I can’t claim to have loved them.”

“Maybe you just weren’t in relationships with women who truly fit you.” It was possible he’d purposely—even if only on a subconscious level—sought out partners he couldn’t fully connect with. Like Brooks had pointed out, Dax kept his circle small and his mental walls up. It made sense that he’d avoid people who might sneak past his guard.

As I looked at Dax right then, it was hard to keep the compassion from creeping onto my expression. I ached for this person who’d only ever been able to trust the people closest to him; who’d been let down by the outside world so many times over that he’d developed protective patterns and barriers that steadily became integrated into his personality.

“Well,” I began, crossing my arms over my chest, “you’re wrong in thinking I have any lingering feelings for Grayden—I can safely assure you he killed every one of them.”

Dax studied me long and hard, saying nothing.

“Back to the matter of Felicity … what are you going to do?”

His shoulders rose and fell in a lazy, fluid movement. “Nothing she won’t deserve,” he prevaricated. “I warned her to stay away from you. She ignored me.”

“I think she believes that being related to you means she’s exempt from any consequences.”

“If so, she’ll soon be disabused of that theory.” His gaze flitted over my face. “Are you all right?”

“You mean am I upset after the little scene she caused? No. She’s just a dumbass with a big mouth. Nothing special or singular.”

“Maybe so. But never underestimate stupid people—common sense often eludes them, so they’ll do things they shouldn’t. Case in point.”

I allowed that with a slight incline of my head. “This will hopefully be the last stunt she pulls.”

“She behaves like a woman scorned,” he mused. “She didn’t act that way when Grayden was involved with others, from what I saw.”

“In her mind, she always had a hold on him when they were apart. She could yank on his strings any time, offer for them to reconcile, and he’d eagerly toddle back to her. She made that offer when he was dating me, but he turned her down.”

His eyes sharpened. “You cut the strings, in other words.”

“That’s the way she sees it. I felt it was more that he’d just gotten tired of her games.”

“If that were the case, he wouldn’t have gone back to her.”

“She talked of moving away with their kids. I don’t know if she ever intended to live up to what was a passive-aggressive threat, but he didn’t want to take that chance. He must still care for her, though. Especially if they’re trying for another baby.”

Dax twisted his mouth. “I’m not sure I believe they are. I wouldn’t put it past Grayden to lie for her in his attempt to defuse the situation. He shouldn’t have bothered trying. She fucked up one time too many. I won’t let it slide.”

“Maybe it makes me a bitch, but I don’t feel inclined to ask you to.”

“It doesn’t make you a bitch. It makes you someone who brooks no bullshit—nobody should have to.” He took slow steps toward me, and my pulse predictably skittered. “In my opinion, her problem with you isn’t merely that you cut those strings you mentioned before. Nor is it only that he still cares for you—which he does, I saw it clearly.” Dax came to a halt in front of me, standing so close our bodies almost brushed. “It’s that she doesn’t feel on equal footing around you. You outshine her.”

Which would have been quite a compliment, except … “It’s not difficult to outshine someone like Felicity. Anyway, enough about her. How was your day?”

“It went well,” was all he said.

“Wow, don’t overwhelm me with information.”

His lips bowed up. “There’s nothing interesting to tell.”

Nothing he wanted to tell, more like. “How about … you part with one thing you did today? Just one. I think you can handle that. Maybe.”

His eyes briefly dipped to my mouth. “I thought about you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “About what I was going to do to you later.”

Even as my hormones cheered, I waved a hand in dismissal. “That wasn’t something I hadn’t guessed. You’re a boy. Boys have sex on the brain. Tell me something else.”

“I ripped Thaddeus a new asshole after he caused a scene near his home when his father refused to give him his car keys.”

I felt my lips press into a thin line. “Drunk again?”

“Plastered. His parents are finally coming down hard on him, but they’ve left it a little too late. It’s going to take a lot of work on their part to rein him in.”

“When you say you ripped him a new one, I’m guessing it involved a threat or two.”

Dax only let out a low hum.

“You really must stop talking so much. It’s hard for me to get a word in edgewise.”

A smile lit his eyes. “I’ll bear that in mind.” He cast a look at his very expensive-looking wristwatch. “I have to make a quick call. Then we can eat. Scan the menu and then tell me what you want so I can order it.”

“Sure thing, pumpkin.”

He did a double-take. “Pumpkin?”

I shrugged. “Felt like giving it a whirl. I don’t like it. You?”

“I’d be happy if you never, ever called me that again.”

“Then we’ll scrap pumpkin.”

“Yes. Yes, we will.”