Page 11 of Trust Me (Rivers Edge #1)

Maddox

I grab the blanket I spot stuffed under the stroller and start to spread it out.

Avery joins us moments later and starts to pull the sandwiches and other goodies out, but I can tell she’s flustered.

Brooklyn is still perched up on my shoulders, enjoying the up and down while giggling and holding on for dear life.

Avery tries to make a grab for her, but she throws a fit and doesn’t want down.

“Come on, Bean. It’s lunchtime,” I say and pluck her down from my shoulders, depositing her on the blanket.

I sit next to her, and she instantly climbs up on my lap.

Avery stands there by the blanket and just watches us.

I realize I’m perfectly content with holding Brooklyn on a blanket in the park.

When the fuck did that happen?

Avery sits down across from us and starts to hand Brooklyn pieces of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she had pre-cut. “I wasn’t planning on another person, so I only have this one other sandwich. Split it? ”

I look up at her, into her crystal-blue eyes, and smile. She’s so damn sexy, even when she’s offering me half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Is it strawberry jelly or grape?” I ask.

“Stawbewy,” Brooklyn says as she stuffs another chunk of sandwich in her already full mouth.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth, Brooklyn, and chew that up before you stuff more in there,” she tells her daughter in her stern “mom” voice. “Are you a jelly snob, Maddox?” I glance up, and she has a big smile on her face. I’d say anything—do anything—to keep that smile there.

“Not so much a snob as I am not a fan of grape jelly.”

“Well, you’re in luck then,” she replies and hands me half the sandwich.

I take the half she’s offering me and hand her a bottle of water.

She opens the bag of potato chips and places them in between us.

Brooklyn dives in with both hands, and I’m pretty sure she’s left half her sandwich smeared all over the bag of chips.

Once lunch is finished—and, yes, I’m still starving—we head back over to the swings. Brooklyn is in heaven on the swings, and Avery and I have taken turns over the last hour pushing her. Avery must notice her daughter’s eyes getting heavy. “I think it’s naptime.”

“No nap! No nap!” she exclaims.

“Ah, come on, Bean. It’s time for my nap too. Let’s head home and lie down for a bit,” I say as I pull her from her swing.

Avery starts gathering up the remains of our picnic and dumps all the garbage in the trash can.

We load up the stuff we’re keeping and head back toward their house.

Brooklyn is perched back up on my shoulders again, talking a mile a minute about the birds and butterflies and kids she played with at the park.

Avery’s pushing the stroller behind us and remains quiet, appearing to be lost in her own thoughts.

We get back to their house and park the stroller around back by the small garage.

Her home phone is ringing as we slip in the back door.

She answers it quickly before the caller can hang up, sounding genuinely happy to hear whoever the caller is on the other end.

I walk back toward the back of the house to Brooklyn’s bedroom.

It’s a pretty small house. An older two-bedroom, one bath home, with an eat-in kitchen and living room.

Just right for Avery and Brooklyn. It’s probably pretty affordable too, which I’m sure is part of the attraction Avery has for the house as a single mother.

I know when she got pregnant and Drake booted her from the apartment she had just moved into, she moved back home with her parents, where she stayed for a while after Brooklyn was born.

Jake helped secure this place for her and his niece.

He’s not that far from her, and I’m practically right around the corner, about three blocks away.

I help Brooklyn into the bathroom to clean up the remains of her PB & J sandwich face.

After I get her cleaned up, she tells me she has to potty.

“Well, shit,” I mumble quietly to myself as I rub the back of my neck.

Um…now what do I do? I’ve never changed a diaper before.

Does she wear a diaper? Hell, I’ve definitely never helped a toddler use the restroom.

But without me even needing to help her, she pulls her pants down and sits on the potty chair across from the toilet.

I look away because it feels like I’m violating something here.

I feel the urge to whistle so I don’t have to listen to her go to the bathroom.

When she’s done, I hand her a little wad of toilet paper, all while keeping my back to her.

She gives me a happy and enthusiastic, “All done.” I help her get her pants up straight without really looking down or making eye contact. Once she’s finished washing up, she places her little hand inside of mine and pulls me toward her bedroom.

Her room looks like a damn toy store exploded. It’s not messy by any means, but there is at least one of everything in this room. Pink and purple everywhere. I feel like I should leave my balls at the door just to step foot in here.

She heads straight to the bookcase and grabs a worn book from the shelf. She walks over to me, hands it over, and climbs into her little bed with Miss Sparkles.

Okay, so I’m gonna read a story, apparently.

I sit on the floor next to her bed and open up Do Princesses Really Kiss Frogs? I glance at the little blonde lying on her bed, watching me with her curious blue eyes and waiting for me to start.

“Daddy, what do princesses wear on a hike? As long as it’s sensible, they wear what they like,” I start.

I glance back down and see her watching me intently.

I continue on with the next page and the next.

Finally, I read the last page and look back at Brooklyn, finding she’s sound asleep.

I can’t help but watch her little chest rise and fall, her even breathing so content in sleep.

I look up at the doorway and notice Avery for the first time. “I usually get the ‘Why don’t I have a daddy’ question when I read that.”

I lean over and kiss Brooklyn’s sleeping face and get up off the floor. After returning the book to the bookshelf, I head out into the hall as Avery closes the door behind us. “Well, I’m honestly glad she didn’t ask me that. I would have had no clue what to say.”

She shrugs her head and says, “I just tell her that someday she will have the best daddy in the world. Until then, she gets to spend all her time with me.” She’s smiling again, but not the happy, full of life smile I love to see. This one’s a little sad.

She shakes it off and heads into the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Sure,” I reply. I sit down at her little kitchenette as she slides a beer in front of me.

We start chatting about my work, her work, and everything else we can think of.

My beer’s been empty for an hour, but I don’t care.

I’m content with sitting here in her kitchen and talking with her all afternoon.

We usually don’t talk too much. I usually avoid it since every time I get too close, I start to get a hard-on.

And she always seems a little shy around me.

But right now, in her kitchen, this is probably the most fun I’ve had talking with another person in a long time.

Jake and I always talk about football or sex.

And as that word creeps into my mind, I start to imagine Avery sitting on the edge of that counter, legs wrapped firmly around my waist, while I bury myself deep inside her.

As if a gift straight from the heavens, Brooklyn chooses that moment to wake up.

When Avery heads to her room to help get her up and ready for the rest of the day, I take the opportunity to think about my grandma.

My coworkers swimming at the pool. Anything to help relieve the wood I’m sporting under the table.

Brooklyn comes running into the kitchen, and I realize it’s getting close to dinnertime.

Avery probably wants to get something going for supper, and honestly, I’m still starving since I only ate half a PB & J sandwich and a handful of chips.

I get up and start to head toward the door.

Brooklyn realizes I’m probably heading out and starts to whine.

“Don’t go. I want you to eat pizza wiff me,” she says, throwing her little arms around my thigh.

Avery comes into the room and tries to remove her daughter from my left leg. “Honey, Maddox is probably ready to go. He didn’t do any of the things he had planned for today. You’ll see him again very soon.”

Brooklyn starts to cry and my heart jumps in my tight chest. “But I want Maddox to eat pizza wiff me.”

Damn, I can’t handle the tears. I can take a punch straight in the face.

I can take down a drugged-out teenager running from the police to avoid arrest. I can take a two-hundred-forty-pound grown man and throw him on the ground like he weighs nothing.

But the sight of this three-year-old crying against my leg is my undoing.

I realize at that moment I would do anything for her, including having pizza with her.

I look up at Avery, who is beside herself at Brooklyn’s behavior. I give her a lopsided grin and say, “Well, looks like I have a date with a beautiful little blonde tonight. Pizza it is.”

Avery just stands there in the middle of her living room and stares at me.

After a moment, she breaks out in a shy little grin too.

And I realize I would do anything for her too.

Fuck. I know at this moment I’m not strong enough to walk away.

All I can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. And hope Jake doesn’t find out.