Page 38 of Alec’s Dream

“Leave them,” Alec told Macy when she tried to load the dishwasher.

“But you cooked. I can clean up.”

Alec turned and grabbed her hand, leading her to the living room.

“I invited you over. That means I cook and I clean.”

“But—”

“Next time.”

“Next time what?” she asked.

“Next time you come over, you can help clean up.”

“Who says there’ll be a next time?” Macy’s head tilted slightly and her lips bowed up.

Damn, she was cute when she was being flirty. Who was he kidding? She was fucking hot all of the time.

“Dadadada,” Joss screeched and both of them turned to look at her.

“She hates being in baby jail, but if I don’t put her in the playpen she terrorizes the house as soon as I turn my back,” Alec explained.

“Do you mind if I take her out?” Macy asked.

Yes, he minded—if Macy freed Joss then he couldn’t touch her the way he wanted to. Couldn’t haul her sexy body against his and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her. He couldn’t remember if he’d taken his time with a woman, and as much as she needed slow, his cock begged to differ. Using his daughter as a buffer was probably frowned upon in those parenting books, though he’d never actually read one so he couldn’t be certain.

Macy reached down into the portable crib and Joss squealed in delight, lifting her arms in excitement.

“You like to roam free don’t’cha, sweet girl?” Macy nuzzled Joss’s neck and the baby giggled.

“Mamamama.”

“Yeah, Macy. Can you say, may-cee?”

That was not the first time Macy had corrected Jocelyn.

“Does it bother you that Joss calls you mama?” Alec asked.

“Um… I think she’s saying Macy.”

Alec remained quiet, hoping she’d answer his question on her own since they both knew Joss was not calling her Macy.

“A little, yeah,” she finally answered. “I don’t want her confused or hurt. I’m not her mom and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take her place—Jocelyn’s real mom that is. I know you both lost her recently and it has to hurt, so I don’t want to add to that. Whenever Joss says it I remind her my name is Macy, I promise. I’m not—”

“Jocelyn lost her,” Alec told her.

“I know she did,” Macy whispered.

“No, you don’t understand. Jocelyn. Not me. I didn’t lose Jaime.”

Macy’s startled expression made him continue his story, one he’d planned on saving for a later date but figured it was best to get it all out in the open now. He’d vowed complete honesty when it came to Macy knowing after being with a lying, cheating, douchecanoe, she’d need it.

“I wasn’t with Jaime when she died,” Alec told her.

“But Alec, just because you weren’t with her at the time doesn’t mean you didn’t lose something, too.”

He kept his eyes on his daughter as Macy’s hand gently rubbed up and down Jocelyn’s back. He vaguely wondered what kind of a mother Jaime was to Joss—what kind of mother she would’ve been if she’d lived. He didn’t doubt Jaime loved their daughter. The letter she’d left him explaining Jocelyn’s existence clearly outlined the fact Jaime had adored Joss.