“I love you, Beckett Hayes.”
She cries out and her body tenses, and as her pretty little pussy squeezes me, I fill her up. Every. Last. Drop.
We lie under the stars, tangled in each other, and sleep until the sun comes up.
* * *
“I can’t believeI slept outside,” Clover says into her coffee mug. “Without a tent, too. I could’ve been eaten by a bear.”
“Or me,” I say, smirking.
“You’re not a canni- oh.” Her face turns bright red and she hides it behind her mug quickly.
“I have to go out and get things done before we go get Lennon and meet with the therapist,” I tell her, rinsing my mug in the sink.
“Oh, I didn’t know she had therapy today! I’ll run upstairs and get dressed. I can do some stuff in town during her meeting.”
Fuck. I didn’t tell her about the text. I rub my chest and try to figure out how to bring it up, but her eyebrows scrunch in concern. “Hey, hey,” she soothes, putting her coffee down. “What’s up, Bucket?”
That eases the tension a bit. A name that I used to absolutely hate has become one of the best ones I’ve had. “I got a text last night during dinner,” I say carefully, pulling out my phone and bringing it up. I hand it to her and watch her read it.
“Fuck. This is today?”
I nod. “Unfortunately.”
Clover hands my phone back and begins to pace. “This isn’t fair to Lennon,” she says angrily. “This woman left her six years ago, and let’s be honest, she’s not back to play house. Now we have to drop Lennon off and just let someone explain that Mommy is sorry that she left her and never called, but surprise! She’s back!”
I exhale loudly. “I feel the exact same way, CJ. I’m just hoping the therapist will be honest with the attorneys. I also know what a good actress Hannah can be sometimes.” I reachout for her wrist as she stomps by me, pulling her to me. “Someone once told me she can’t take away Lennon,” I tell her. “Where’s that energy?”
Clover sighs. “She can’t. It’s just . . . scary,” she admits. “What if she leaves her again? What if it storms and we don’t hear her calling for us?”
I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on the top of her head. “We’re going to figure it out. Don’t worry.”
* * *
Clover isin the truck waiting for me. She refused to leave my side except for when I had to be in here, said something about making a call to the lawyer handling the case with her ex-boss. I know she’s stressed about money because she’s mentioned it offhand, but she won’t make a big deal out of it because of everything happening with Lennon and Hannah now. She doesn’t have to spend a dime with me, but she’s always been like that. She doesn’t want to feel like she’s mooching.
“Lennon,” the therapist starts. “Do you know who this is?” She points to Hannah, who has plastered on the worst fake smile. Lennon scoots closer against me, her little hand gripping my t-shirt and shakes her head.
“Not really,” she shrugs. “She’s the money lady from the grocery store.”
Hannah’s eyes roll, but the therapist looks at me. I look down at my daughter and run my hand down her hair. “Len, this is your mom.”
Hannah holds her arms out to Lennon, but she doesn’t budge.
“Oh,” Lennon says quietly. “Okay.”
Hannah drops her hands and they clap against her bare thighs. Her shorts are barely visible, and every time she moves,the plastic gems she has hanging from her blue jean jacket clack against each other.
“Hi, baby,” she tries. God, the accent. There will only ever be one person who can talk like Dolly and not grate on my nerves, and that’s Dolly herself. I know how Hannah sounds, and this isn’t it. She sounds like she swallowed a southern cookbook written by AI. Clover has taught me that AI is horrible, so the comparison feels fitting.
Lennon stiffens. “Hi,” she replies. There is so much tension in her little body, and I want to scoop her up like a football and run her out of here, but I can’t. I have to fucking sit here and watch my six-year-old try to interact with the only person who’s hurt her. Well, I guess I can add myself to that list, too, now. Fucking Hannah. I thought Clover was chaos, but this is beyond that.
The therapist clears her throat as Lennon slips one hand into mine and starts biting the skin around her thumb on the other. “Don’t do that,” Hannah snaps, but then remembers what the point of today is. Prove she’s a good mom. Insert eye roll here. “I mean to say, aren’t you a little too big to suck your thumb?”
“She’s not sucking her thumb,” I say, as Lennon defends herself,alsotelling Hannah she’s not sucking her thumb. Now Lennon is guarded. Great. If anyone thought I was a fortress, they haven’t met her. She’s very open and loving until she doesn’t trust you; then she will begin to shut down.
Hannah sneers at both of us for snapping at her. Too fucking bad.
