Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(46)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I smiled slow, all owing it to smolder and then light with the joy that surged through my veins with her request, wishing nothing more than the freedom to kiss the sweetness of her wet mouth as it grew with reception.

Instead, I captured the last tear that slid down her face and then wound my finger in the lock of hair matted on her cheek, giving it a slight tug of affection in anticipation of what I knew was to come.

Because while she spoke of forever, what I heard her say was she wasn’t ready yet.

I stood, dusted off the sand clinging to my shorts, and extended my hand out to her. “Come on, let’s go play and with our daughter.” She laughed and wiped her face with the back of her hand before reaching up to take it.

I had spent nearly the entire weekend with Lizzie and Elizabeth. The three of us had played on the beach until the sun final y dipped into the horizon and brought a chill to the air, and we’d ended the almost perfect day with dinner and ice cream cones. With Sunday morning had come a text inviting me to breakfast, a meal shared over a table of laughter and ease, one that seemed to shape a sort of truce between Matthew and me. While a vestige of his distrust still lingered, he seemed to slowly be warming to the idea of me being a part of Elizabeth and Lizzie’s lives.

I’d wished the weekend would never end, but unfortunately, Monday had come, and with it, the bal of nerves I currently found myself in. I straightened my tie, grabbed my briefcase, and took one last glance at myself in the mirror before walking out my front door and to the elevator. Looking for a position at another law firm had been the last thing I’d ever thought I’d have to do. I’d always believed that one day I’d be my father’s successor. Funny how things changed in the blink of an eye.

The elevator opened to the parking garage below, and I rushed toward my car. Just as I opened the door, someone call ed out my name, “Christian Davison?” It was posed as a question.

I paused to look over my shoulder at the man in a basebal cap and jacket approaching from across the garage.

“Yes?”

With my confirmation, he pulled a thick envelope from his jacket. I closed my eyes in fruitless defense as his intent became clear.

I supposed this was inevitable, but I’d hoped that once, just once, family would come first.

I took the package without dispute and sank into my car, wondering how he could do this to me.

With a heavy heart, I ran my finger under the flap and freed its bond.

It was exactly as I’d expected.

My father was suing me.

I drove aimlessly around the city, passing time, trying not to focus on the envelope sitting on my passenger seat.

I couldn’t believe the man could be so cold. He was suing me for essential y everything, as if he’d tracked my every asset and every deficit—every venture and every loss. The only thing he hadn’t accounted for was the money I’d socked away for Lizzie before I’d even known her name.

At least that was hidden, protected from his greed.

Beyond that, my father hoped to wipe me out.

At five thirty, I pulled up to Elizabeth and Lizzie’s house unannounced and agitated, desperate for the solace that could only be found in them. I was hit by a staggering wave of relief when Elizabeth opened the door and, with an understanding smile, welcomed me inside.

As long as I had these two, I could take whatever else was thrown my way.

I pulled Lizzie’s blanket up tighter over her body, nuzzling my nose in her hair as I wished her a good night.

Elizabeth had already gone downstairs to give me a few minutes alone with our child.

Lizzie snuggled deeper into her pil ow and murmured a tired, “Night, Daddy.” With a slow grin, she added, “Love you.”

Every time she said it, I felt like my heart would burst through my chest.

I pressed my lips to her forehead and whispered, “I love you, princess.” I stood and crossed the room, pausing at the doorway to take in a few more seconds of my precious daughter. Then I switched off the light and left the door cracked open the same way Elizabeth did.

As I crept downstairs, my heart picked up a notch the way it always did when I knew I was going to be alone with Elizabeth.

Since our talk on the beach two months ago, I’d spent nearly every day with them. Each one had brought me closer to Lizzie, closer to Elizabeth, as our lives merged and slowly became one.

Being with them this way as a family brought me more joy than I’d ever believed possible. Not even the lawsuit looming in the distance could do anything to dampen my spirits.

But even with as close as we had grown, there was a part of herself that Elizabeth kept closed off. It was the part that was found in the tension that fil ed the room, the part that fought for release, each and every time we were alone.

She wanted me, I knew, but she wasn’t ready. I hadn’t pushed, though that was becoming harder and harder to do. I ached for her, a physical need that kept me awake through the long hours of the night and often woke me just as soon as I’d final y drift to sleep. My body craved attention, something it had gone so long without. The need she created in me had not gone unnoticed but remained unheeded, just as she continued to ignore her own desire.

I knew it was just a matter of time before one of us cracked.

I took a steeling breath in preparation of Elizabeth’s presence before I made my way across her living room and toward the kitchen.

At the archway, I peeked in and was going to say something to make myself known but stopped short when she came into view. Elizabeth sat at the table surrounded by a stack of mail. Her face was wet with tears as she read what she held in her hand.

I didn’t have to ask her what it was.

I stepped forward, tentative, praying this wouldn’t cause us another setback. I wasn’t sure I could handle her running away from me again.

She looked up when she heard me, her brown eyes watery, confused—maybe even hurt.

“What is this?” she asked, searching my face.

I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair, struggling to find a way to explain. So many times I’d wanted to tel her, to warn her of what I was about to do, but it had never seemed to be the right time to broach the subject.

At least that’s what I’d been tel ing myself. In reality, it had only been left unsaid because I was afraid of Elizabeth’s reaction—the reaction I now saw on her face.

Gathering my courage, I took the few steps needed to bring me to Elizabeth’s side, knelt beside her, and whispered her name. It sounded like an apology.

“Why?” She shook her head as she sat back, refusing to look at me and staring at the papers in front of her.