Hazel squirmed, her tiny hand landing in my hair and gripping tight in that reflexive way babies did. I worked her fingers loose, pressing a kiss to her downy head.
“What about her?” Imani nodded toward Hazel.
“I’ll still take care of her. Griffin needs help, and I...” I trailed off, not ready to voice how attached I’d become. “She needs consistency. Stability. I won’t abandon her because her father’s an idiot.”
“And if Julian tries to use that against you?”
“Then I’ll deal with it.”
I bounced Hazel and her face scrunched in what might become a smile someday. She deserved better than being caught in Julian’s games. So did Griffin, whether he believed it or not.
“But I won’t make it easy for him. No more living in Griffin’s house, no more playing happy families, no more pretending this arrangement is anything other than professional.”
“Griffin’s going to fight you on this.” Cleo exchanged a look with Imani.
“Let him.” I squared my shoulders and held her gaze. “He made his choice this morning when he decided I was being hysterical instead of listening to what I was saying.”
“Maybe he’ll realize?—”
“Maybe he won’t.” I shrugged. “Either way, I’m done waiting for Griffin Michaels to figure out that I know my own father better than he does.”
CHAPTER FORTY
GRIFFIN
Monday
“You’re being childish.”
Violet didn’t look up from buckling Hazel into her car seat. We’d been on the tarmac for twenty minutes, waiting for customs clearance, and she hadn’t said a word to me since we’d boarded.
“Are you planning to ignore me for the entire flight?”
She adjusted Hazel’s blanket, still refusing to meet my eyes. The baby gurgled happily, oblivious to the arctic chill that had settled between us.
“Because that’s not going to work. We’re stuck together for the next week. You can’t pretend I don’t exist.”
Finally, she glanced up. Her expression was nothing but polite and professional. Like I was a stranger asking for directions.
“Is there something you need regarding Hazel’s care?”
This morning, she’d been wearing my name on her back, screaming it in my bed. Now she spoke to me like I was her employer.
Which, technically, I supposed I was.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk to me like you’re reading from a bloody manual.”
She returned her attention to Hazel, smoothing down a tuft of dark hair. “I’m being professional.”
I laughed. “Gorgeous, you were covered in my cum a couple of hours ago. There’s nothing professional about us.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.
The flight attendant appeared before I could push harder. “We’ve been cleared for takeoff. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
