Page 38 of Silent Ties (Ruling Love #1)

RUSSET

Two Years Later

It’s dismissal time, and parents fill the hallway of the preschool. Coats and bags and lunchboxes crowd the way.

I peek into Sailor’s classroom. She brightens, smiling widely only for her to shout, “Daddy!”

She runs over—no leaps—her sneakers launching as she throws herself at him. Max easily catches her, hugging her as tightly as she hugs him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, dumbfounded he snuck up on me.

He kisses my forehead, bending slightly so I can hug our daughter as well. Not, that Sailor lets go of him.

“What happened to the meeting?” I ask.

“It got done early.” He heads toward Sailor’s cubby.

“Coat has to go on,” I tell her. I shrug it around her because she won’t let go of her dad and Max doesn’t make her.

I know I’m biased, but honest to God, he’s the best father in the world. He loves Sailor.

He listens to her endless babble about cozy socks and whatever toy is in her hand.

It’s not uncommon to walk into his office and find him taking a break from work, the pair of them lying on the floor, coloring together.

She has the entire penthouse to make into her own, but she naturally gravitates to wherever her father is.

He originally wanted to do the school drop-off, but I quickly had to take over. Turns out someone as imposing as Max, standing and lurking in the corner to make sure his daughter is okay, isn’t conducive to the general well-being of the classroom.

I’m also on pick-up duty, but half the time I arrive to find him already here.

Due to Sailor currently being Lev’s only grandchild, it means Max gets away with doing whatever he wants so long as he’s spoiling her.

Not that I can complain about him hogging time with Sailor. The man with a stony, blank face disappears when she’s near him. Max is still the listener of the family, but there’s always this expression of pure peaceful joy when he’s with his daughter.

I draw the short end of the stick, carrying Sailor’s backpack and lunchbox and a handful of today’s art activities. Max strolls out, carrying Sailor on his hip and trying to hold my hand in the other.

“It’s okay,” I tell him as I juggle everything in my hands.

He hauls the backpack off my shoulder, placing it over his, and hands Sailor the drawings. “Hold that, okay.”

“Uh huh.” She studies her artwork.

Max takes my hand, leading us out to the car. The Porsche sports car is still around if hardly used, in favor of a black SUV. He must have already told Pavel to take my car back home.

He opens the door, expertly placing her into her car seat. The coat comes off and he tries to help her with the seatbelt.

“No, I’ve got it.” She latches it together, brown hair falling into her face. She’s a tad bit worse for wear. I have it on good authority from the teacher that she’s a rough-and-tumble type of kid during recess.

Max smooths her hair back, kissing her forehead and I melt as I watch from the front seat.

“Mom,” Sailor says, absentmindedly playing with the belt buckle until she finds a toy beside her. She shakes a miniature-sized doll in the air for no good reason. “Jane said there would be cupcakes in the kitchen when I get home.”

“Did she?” I ask of the housekeeper, trying not to laugh. Sugar in our household is not unheard of and Sailor has a worse sweet tooth than me.

“I would like one please,” she says as Max slides into the driver's seat. He glances back, not catching her words. She seizes the opportunity, sitting up as much as she can. “Daddy, can I please have a cupcake when I get home?”

Max is a stickler for manners. Sailor wields them to her advantage.

“After dinner, troublemaker.” The engine roars to life and he amps up the heater, fighting the chilly weather.

“What about a snack?” she asks, staring out the window.

“Carrots,” he replies.

She gasps, her little mouth open in disbelief.

I love her to the moon and back. I don’t care how cheesy or cliché it is.

“Are we going to see Grandpa tonight?”

“Not tonight,” I reply.

“Oh. What about Uncle Elijah?”

“Nope.”

“Roma?” she pouts.

“We’re going to be homebodies tonight,” I tell her. She’s a people person, and worse, she knows the Zimin men spoil her.

She makes a funny noise, waving the doll in the air. “Can I FaceTime Grandpa? ”

“After dinner,” Max says.

“But I think he wants to talk to me now.”

Max remains focused on the stop-and-go traffic, but he takes my hand, lacing our fingers together.

“What did you learn today?” he asks Sailor.

She tells him what snacks she ate and who she played with.

“Ace?” Max asks, never hearing the name before. “Who’s that?”

I watch his face when she announces, “He’s my husband.”

He scowls. “He’s your what?”

I squeeze his hand, trying to gain his attention. “Lighten up,” I whisper.

“We got married,” she says.

“How?” I ask, playing along.

“He gave me his credit card, that’s how.”

Mrs. Teezie recently placed new toys in the kitchen and house station in her classroom. I’ve heard all week about the new pretend credit cards and stove they’ve been loving.

“That’s not how it works.” Max frowns.

“I mean you gave me a credit card,” I mutter before laughing at his scowl.

Traffic crawls, but the car is warm, and any moment I spend with my family is a good one in my books.

“Mom, where’s my sister?”

I avoid Max’s eyes on me. “You don’t have one.”

Sailor contemplates this. “But what about the one in your belly?”

I sink further into the heated leather seat. The only thing in my belly is a cheeseburger. I know because I took a pregnancy test this morning.

“Sorry, babe, there’s no baby in my belly.” I’m not sure who I’m telling—Max or Sailor.

Max squeezes my hand. We’ve been trying to get pregnant the past year and it’s gotten us exactly nowhere.

There’s a photo on the mantel of Daisy and me. It’s from her twenty-third birthday and taken before we drank too much.

Sailor knows she has two moms. The one who gave birth to her and me.

I know she doesn’t quite understand and one day there will be more questions.

Because of Sailor, Daisy’s on my mind every day. Maybe I’m crazy, but I like to talk to her.

You’d be so proud.

Do you see the way her face lights up like that?

Can you believe she likes asparagus?

I straighten the photo on the mantel, padding around the house in my socks.

Sailor is in bed after she spoke for an hour on the phone with Lev. Seriously, she’ll place the phone down and play while the besotted grandpa stays on the line.

I can only imagine how it’ll go when she wants to start dating.

“Did she have trouble going down?” Max asks, removing his reading glasses. His socked feet are crossed at the ankle and he’s got on a pair of flannel sleep pants.

“You look like an old man.” I tumble beside him, wrapping my arms around him.

“You say the sweetest things.”

“Love you,” I say into his chest.

He moves out of my grasp and I roll onto the pillows confused. Standing by the bed he holds something out.

I frown, sitting up. “There’s no point.”

He keeps trying to hand me the pregnancy test.

“Seriously, I took one this morning.”

“Try again,” he insists .

“I hate to break this to you but our daughter isn’t psychic.”

Kids say weird things all the time. She asked for a pet monster last week.

“I’m not pregnant.”

He stands there, dark eyes studying me. I shrink inside, but I don’t want to talk about it.

“Okay.” He sets the test down. “Then let’s try again.”

He pushes me back, sliding his knee between my legs.

It’s not just the crushing disappointment of not having another baby. It’s breaking the news over and over to Max that it didn’t work out.

He never blames me or makes me feel like it’s my fault. It doesn’t matter. I feel like it’s my fault.

I know I’m not the only person struggling with fertility, but now I understand how much of a nasty bitch it is.

He nips at my lower lip. I refuse. He bites harder and when my lips part his tongue sweeps in. He presses his hardening cock into my lower stomach and my heart ticks up.

“Did you hear something?” I break away.

He tries to claim my lips again.

“I’m serious. Hang on, I think I need to go check on Sailor.”

“She’s going to have to learn how to be independent at some point.”

Max runs his fingers through my hair, sliding me back on the bed. He nudges my legs further apart and a hand snakes into my waistband. My hips shift against him, looking for more.

He pulls back, smirking, and then launches into a harder attack.

“Max,” I complain.

His hips pin me down and I can’t move. Holding my arms above my head, he kisses my chin and then my nipple through my pajama top.

I’m about to groan in frustration when Sailor’s voice cries from behind the closed door, “Daddy?”

Max leaps off me. He fixes himself, grabbing his reading glasses.

“What happened to having to learn how to be independent?”

“Our daughter needs me.” He throws a scandalized look over his shoulder as he marches to the door. He finds a bleary-eyed Sailor, her hair a mess and her pajamas awry.

“Daddy,” she murmurs as he takes her little hand and leads her back to her room.

My head crashes back into the pillows. Max is a sucker, so I know it’ll be a while.

The pregnancy test remains unopened on the nightstand. Taunting me.

I took one this morning. It’d be stupid and wasteful to use another one. Besides, what’s the likelihood that in twelve hours I’ve become pregnant?

“Body works in mysterious ways.” I scoop up the test, rolling to my feet.

I pee on the stick, remind myself not to get hopeful, and prepare for disappointment.

“What are you doing?”

“Um.” I glance down at the test in my hand as I lean against the bathroom sink. Max walks up behind me, his chest at my back.

“What’s it say?”

I try to ignore the yearning in his voice. “It’s not doing anything yet.”

“Let me see.” He tries to grab it.

“Let’s not make it into a big deal,” I plead, embarrassed I used the stupid test .

“Give me that.” He tugs it from my hands. “Russet, it’s positive.”

“Fuck off.”

Part of my brain tells me he’s joking, but when I glance up, leaning heavily against the vanity, an excited frizzy feeling lines my stomach. That face—Max never makes it.

The handsome man grins, his whole face lighting up.

“Russet,” he says again and my stomach drops.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, grabbing his hand to see. My face crumples.

Max crushes me to him, kissing my forehead, kissing my cheek.

“Don’t jinx it.” My nerves and fear war with the euphoric happiness washing over me.

He grabs me by the waist, spinning me around, and out of the bathroom. We fall into the bed and I mentally photograph the smile on his face.

“Let’s call her Piper,” he says.

I laugh. “We don’t know if it’s a girl or boy.”

“I think it’ll be a girl.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know a lot of things,” he declares, kissing my lips. “Like how much I love you.”

I kiss him back. “Really?”

“Really.” He bites my lip.

“Good. Because I love you.”