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“It’s what you said to me the first night we kissed atDiFillippo’s. You warned me not to let you fuck up your list, and I’ve done just that.”
Jas brushed his hand down his tight face, whispering, “I ‘on’t know what all this mean, man.”
I scoffed, wiping my face again. “You wanted celibacy…a wife. I wanted to claim you physically. To conquer your stubborn religious pursuits…the thug from Harlem. We fell in love, and you dropped your efforts of finding a wife. I get pregnant, making you something you never wanted to be. Even now, Jas,” I turned to him. “you’re trying to move on. You’re with Josie and I…” Swallowing involuntarily, I couldn’t keep speaking my fuck ups.
“What do you want, Ashira? Huhn?” Jas was irritated. “What do you want from me?”
“To give me mercy,” I cried mutedly into my arm. “To never stop.”
“Never means forever,” he croaked, and I knew what he was referencing.
“I need time to grow up.”
“I’ve given you three years.”
“I—” I turned away again, stuck. “I got damaged with relationships when my mother left me,” I admitted. “I know how to love; I swear I do.” I shook my head, peering his way again. “I just don’t know what commitment means marriage-wise.”
“So, you want me to be good with this?” His hand motioned around the cabin. “For this enemies-to-lovers shit? You want the crappy shit we’ve been playing since our daughter was born?” His palm hit his hilly chest as he pledged, “I deserve better than that.”
“You deserve better than me.” I swallowed. “But you’re mine.”Forever…
We locked gazes for what felt like forever. There was so much between us, the toxicity created by mutual resentment. Above it all, though, was rabid love. The type that didn’t make sense. The kind that ran hard and wild. The strain capable of hurting us both.
Jas swung open the sheet, revealing his vulnerability to my powers, swollen beneath the bed of dark curly hairs. “Come back to bed, Ashira.” I enjoyed the authority of his tone when he called me by my first name.
Shit…
Everything the man did turned me on. It felt like dark sunglasses with gloomy lenses had fallen from my face this year. Over the course of the months, non-negotiable obstacles I thought I had were minor issues between us—well, most, anyway.
I shook my head, sniffling again. “I can’t.” I left the sofa in search of my things. “Chi-Chi’ll be up soon. She’d throw a tantrum if she knew I’ve fucked her dad…again.”
Jas’ torso slammed onto the mattress. “Shit!”
The salted air felt amazing, awakening my fuzzed brain this morning from a lack of sleep. I watched as the kitchen crew finished loading the table with meats, potatoes, and condiments. Dishes clanked together as Amy, Rainey, Francesco, and the guys began going for coffee and beverages.
Eric and Bob, because of their generous sizes, sat at the ends of the rectangular table as they typically did when joining us for a meal. Rainey sat across from Chi-Chi and me. Next to her was Francesco. The seat to the left of him was empty. Sometimes Bella joined us, and other times, she remained back in the kitchen with her team to cook or prepare something for a subsequent meal. Amy sat to the right of Chi-Chi. We were all a sight, different body sizes and weights, at a table packed with an array of foods.
I’d just finished cutting up Chi-Chi’s sausage when I stood to get ketchup. They often forgot my penchant for it on my potatoes, which wasn’t a big deal. Just as I was leaving out, a deliciously looking and temptingly scented Jas appeared. I was licking off the bit of strawberry syrup I’d managed to get on my thumb when I was trapped in his eyes. His presence was as imposing as always. I felt my breath hike, and immediately chided myself. I had to get it together. I’d lost my shit a few hours ago in his cabin, crying like a madwoman. I refused to romanticize my “ugly” until I sorted the shit.
But when Jas discreetly stroked the thumb I’d just licked, my sex clenched, and lungs seized. Still, I managed to smoothly pass him and continue to the kitchen.
“It’s about damn time,” I heard Francesco grumble behind me. “We can’t eat until the man of the vessel eats.”
When I returned from the kitchen, Jas was over Chi-Chi, cutting her pancake. I placed the ketchup on the table and took to my seat, now enduring his scent.
“No, Mommy!” Chi-Chi shouted, alarmed. “Daddy sit by me. Daddy!”
My brows met as the girls snickered. “But Mommy was sitting here first. I went to get ketchup.”
“No! No! No!” She attempted to waggle her index finger. “You sit there.” She pointed to the empty seat next to Francesco. “Daddy sit next to me, Mommy!”
My neck rolled and forehead stretched as I blinked. Did it sting? Not as much as usual, but it did.
“Nah, Chivon,” Jas interjected. “Daddy came late. Mommy has herseat—”
“No! Daddy sit next to me!” She pouted.
I stood. “It’s okay. Francesco may share his food with me,” I attempted to joke.
