Facade: Facade Read online

  Question two – Do you miss him when he’s gone? Check.

  Question three – Is he an attentive lover? Check this fucker twice.

  Question four – Can you see yourself marrying him? Check.

  Holy shit, I can see myself marrying Jacoby. Now, all I can picture is me in a fitted white gown with a train a mile long, Mira in some God awful colored dress walking ahead of me down an aisle and then Jacoby standing at the front of a church, in a tux, smiling, knowing I’m all his. Forever.

  I barely register Jacoby galloping into the kitchen with Shelby on his back. I drop the magazine on the counter, put the cookie sheets in the oven and pull a few juice pouches from the fridge.

  “Would you like some juice, Shelby?” Shelby eyes me suspiciously, like she’s watched too many cartoons about evil step mothers. I’m not her step-mother.

  “Yep.” She takes the juice pouch from me and hands it to Jacoby to open.

  “What do you say to Kylee?” Jacoby asks, while fidgeting with the little straw that never goes into the foiled top the way it should. Getting frustrated, he turns the juice pouch over and stabs the bottom.

  “Thank you,” Shelby whispers.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Since we’re not getting off on the right foot, I really hope the chicken nuggets will inspire this ice child to melt and let me in.

  When the timer goes off, I pull the food from the oven and Shelby’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July. Knowing I have this little girl right where I want her, I take my time plating the nuggets and fries. I slowly go to the fridge, pulling out the ketchup. Impatient Little Miss climbs up onto her own stool, looking angelic.

  We’re gonna have our hands full with this one in ten years. Shit. I keep getting ahead of myself thinking of a future with Jacoby and his family. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in a relationship? Mother fucker.

  “Hey Shelby, would you like another juice with your lunch?” I ask, innocently.

  “Yes, please, Kylee.” There we go. I’m in.

  I pass a plate and juice to Shelby’s place at the counter. She’s digging in, not paying any attention to her surroundings. I realize I’m just standing here smiling like a dope when Jacoby gets my attention, winking at me.

  He knows. He always knows.

  Shelby finishes up and I start to do the dishes, but Jacoby stops me.

  “Why don’t you go talk to Shelby?” Talk about being put on the spot. I want to interact with her, but it just seems so forced.

  “Okay,” I say hesitantly.

  I walk upstairs and find Shelby sitting on her bed, combing a Barbie’s hair. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but listening to her talk to her doll makes my heart smile. It’s such an innocent act and the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

  “Kylee,” she calls, “come play dollies with me. You can have this one. She has red hair like you.” I walk into the room, sit on the bed across from her and take the doll.

  Grabbing one of the small combs, I start to brush through nappy redhead Barbie’s hair, reminiscing on the joys of my childhood; before my father ruined it for me. Here and now, I make myself a promise to never let Jacoby hurt this little girl like I was. I don’t know how much pull I have in said vow, but everything in my power, I will do. This sweet child deserves it. Something in me already knows that Jacoby wouldn’t do anything to put a strain on their relationship; in the past, now or in the future.

  “Come here, Shelby. Let me do your hair.” She all too enthusiastically pushes all the dolls and accessories off the bed, turns around and pulls her hair out of the ponytail.

  Parting her thin blonde hair down the middle, I start to comb it into separate sections. I used to love when my mom would do my hair for no reason, and I hope that Shelby’s enjoying herself; I know I am.

  “Do you write books? Daddy said you’re a writer.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re daddy’s right.”

  “Do you know Judy Blume?” I laugh; I’m already in love with this little girl.

  “No, Shelby, I don’t, but I wish I did. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing is one of my favorite books.” Shelby slumps her shoulders forward, upset that I don’t know one of the most famous children’s authors.

  “Daddy says he likes you a lot,” Shelby says.

  “Did he? Well, I like your daddy a lot, too.”

  “Are you going to be my mommy here like Michael is my daddy when I’m at home?” How does one answer a question like this? I don’t want to give her false hope, but she’s kicking up every maternal instinct I’ve kept buried for so long. Instincts I didn’t know I had.

  “Well, I don’t know about that. Your daddy and I like each other and I live here. I can be your pretend mommy, I guess.” I really hope that’s okay to say. The last think I want is Dawn down my throat.

  “Knock knock,” Jacoby announces, coming through the door. My face heats with embarrassment, wondering if he’s been listening to our conversation. I suddenly feel like I’m overstepping on his relationship with Shelby.

  I finish the pigtails in her hair and stand to excuse myself. “No, don’t leave,” Jacoby says, sitting on the bed in front of Shelby. “I have a present for you.” He places a box in Shelby’s lap and she rips into the paper, revealing a rectangular velvet box.

  She opens the box and tears the necklace out; a small silver heart, engraved with Daddy’s Princess, on a thin silver chain.

  “Daddy, it’s beautiful. I love it.” Jacoby unclasps the hook and places it around her neck.

  “It looks beautiful on you,” he says.

  Tears form in the corners of my eyes, witnessing this very special daddy-daughter moment. Jacoby winks at me, yet again. If there was ever any doubt that I love this man, this seals the deal. I, one hundred percent, for a fact, want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to be his wife and experience all of these moments with him as long as I live.

  “I got you a present, too,” Jacoby says, handing me a similarly wrapped box, only mine is square.

  With my heart in my throat, I slowly open the paper; much more conservatively than young Shelby. I set the paper on the fluffy pink comforter and open the box and a huge, and I mean huge, diamond stares back at me, almost taunting me.

  I’m so caught up in the moment that I don’t notice Jacoby get off the bed. Furthermore, I don’t realize he’s kneeling on the carpet, looking up at me.

  Gasping, my hand goes to my heart, just like in the movies, and I almost drop the ring.

  “Kylee, I knew when I met you, you were something special; a force to be reckoned with. The first time I held your hand, I felt fireworks. And the way you look at the most important person to me, make my heart skip a beat. I would love nothing more than for you to be Shelby’s mommy here and to be my wife, everywhere, every day.” Jacoby takes the ring from my hand and holds it out to me, like an offering.

  “Kylee Renee Anderson, will you marry me?” They say the finger your wedding ring goes on has a vein that leads straight to the heart. Well, I know it’s a fact, and in this moment, without thinking about it, I give Jacoby my left hand, like it’s my heart’s doing and not mine, and he pushes the platinum band over that special little finger.

  “This is just like in the fairytales, Daddy,” Shelby chimes in. I totally forgot she was here. Pretend mommy foul.

  “I would love to be Shelby’s mommy here and your wife. Nothing would make me happier.”

  Jacoby places a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth, and I understand why—Miss Shelby doesn’t need a lesson in kissing just yet.

  Cleaning up the mess from dinner, I can’t help but watch the way my ring glistens with the light of the chandelier. Jacoby put Shelby to bed a little over an hour ago and I’m beat, ready for bed myself. I finish loading the dishwasher and meet Jacoby in the living room, where he’s typing away on his laptop.

  “What are you doing?”I ask, sitting down next to him and laying my head on his shoulder.

  “Finis
hing something up for my Vegas client. It appears that we’re not the only lucky ones tonight. His permits are fully approved and we can start development in the next few weeks.”

  “That’s awesome. I’ve always wanted to go to Vegas,” I say, winking. Jacoby catches the hint.

  “Why, soon to be Mrs. Roberts, do you want to elope in Vegas?” he jokes.

  “Nope, just want to go to Vegas. I hear they have a few casinos.”

  Feeling like I could pass out at any moment, Jacoby takes my hand, leading me upstairs. He changes into a pair of cotton sleep pants, and I assume it’s because of Shelby since he usually sleeps naked. I follow his lead and put on a matching pants and cami pajama set that I stole from Mira.

  We’re under the blanket no more than ten minutes, when Shelby pops her head through the door.

  “Daddy, Kylee, is it okay if I sleep with you guys?”

  “Yeah, baby, climb on up.” Jacoby says, rolling her over to hoist her up. Thank God for wearing clothes.

  Shelby jumps between us, nestling her head on my pillow more than Jacoby’s. Usually, I would mind someone snatching a pillow, but with her, it just seems right. Motherly instinct rears her head again as I wrap an arm around Shelby, pulling her closer to me. Even through the darkness, I can see Jacoby’s hundred watt smile.

  “So this is what this feels like,” I say out loud, even though it’s more of a thought.

  “What’s that, Red?” Jacoby asks.

  “Being whole.”

  “That’s exactly what this feels like. Goodnight, both of my precious girls. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Shelby and I say in unison.

  I drift off to sleep, dreaming of butterflies, cupcakes and rainbows. It’s crazy how a little bit of happiness can change your whole outlook on life. A year ago, you couldn’t pay me to be in a relationship. I think this would only work with Jacoby. He makes me want to beat the demons, break the skeletons and fight my way out of the darkness I didn’t know I was living in.

  He’s my light in a dark tunnel and I’ll admit it to anyone who asks; sometimes, with the right person, love is worth everything.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kylee

  “Who the fuck is banging?” A muffled knocking sound’s coming from the living room.

  Leaning back in my chair, I try to stretch my back that’s been in the same position for God knows how long. Writing takes a toll on the body. Not only do my fingers cramp up, but I get writer’s ass, a stiff back and indentations from my keyboard all over my face. Writer problems.

  Whoever’s banging on my door like the damn police really needs to calm down. I don’t know what day it is, but shit, can’t I get a few hours sleep? I’m pretty sure it’s a Saturday, but I have no clue. I look at my phone on the way to answer the door, and it’s not Saturday—it’s Sunday. When did I lose a day?

  Shuffling across the hardwood floor, my bare feet unhappy with the coolness, I reach the door, look through the peephole and see Jacoby on the other side.

  “What’s with the pounding?” I open the door and Jacoby pushes his way inside.

  “Are you kidding me, Ky? Nobody’s heard from you in three days! Mira’s freaking out. She said she came over here but you didn’t answer the door. What the hell’s going on?” Jacoby relaxes a little when he sees that I’m perfectly fine. Well, I probably look like shit but I’m alive.

  “I didn’t know it’s been three days, I swear, and I also didn’t hear her knock. I sat down to write after you left the other day and it just poured out of me. Come back here and take a look,” I say, starting to walk back to my office that used to be Mira’s bedroom, with Jacoby hot on my heels.

  “You don’t answer your phone. Fuck, it doesn’t even ring.”

  “It’s on,” I show him the screen lighting up under my touch, “I just turned airplane mode on so I wasn’t bothered. I really didn’t mean to worry anyone, I swear.” I feel guilty as hell for making him and Mira worry.

  “I thought you were running from me,” Jacoby finally says, a sense of relief washing over him that I’m doing no such thing.

  “No. Yeah, I needed time to think, but I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted to be sure that if I was going to give you more, I wouldn’t end up disappointing you. I know what your daughter means to you and if I’m going to be your girlfriend, I need to be a role model for her, too. Running isn’t setting a good example, now is it?” I hope he understands what I’m trying to say. When his eyes hit mine, I know he does.

  “You’re actually going to be my girlfriend? Like, this isn’t a joke. You’re in?” His hesitance makes me laugh. I feel like I just wrote this exact scene.

  A brilliant idea strikes and I know the best way to show him that I’m in this all the way with him. I’m done hiding and there really is only one way to prove my intentions.

  “Here, read this,” I say, standing up from my chair and motion for him to sit down. “This is what I’ve been working on. It’s kind of our story. The heroine is all me and the hero, well, he’s you. I didn’t realize that I was writing everything I wanted to say to you and how I saw us in the future until last night when I did a read through. Read it and understand.”

  Jacoby sits in the chair facing my laptop. Since I’m sure it’s been at least three days since I’ve last showered, combed my hair or slept, I go straight to the bathroom to knock number one off my list.

  After a long luxurious shower, I brush out my hair, throw it in a bun and climb into some comfortable pajama pants and tee shirt.

  “I’m taking a nap, wake me when you’re done,” I yell as my head hits the pillow. I doubt my eyes are even going to stay open long enough to get a response. Nope, I yawn and that’s all she wrote. No pun intended, although quite clever if I do say so myself.

  A few hours later, I wake up feeling refreshed and ready to write another forty thousand words. Walking out of my room into the hall, the glow of my computer monitor is coming from my office.

  “You’re still reading?” I ask, poking my head in the door to find Jacoby propped with his feet on the desktop and laptop in his lap.

  “This is really good, Red. I’m at the part where Shelby asks to sleep in our bed.” My heart smiles, knowing he’s about to read the few words that express how I really feel about him.

  His eyes scan each line, following the words and his lips turn up in a grin. I know he’s reading that specific part because he looks up at me, eyes glossy and at a loss for words. After reading the line a few more times, he looks up at me again and I nod my head.

  “I make you feel whole?”

  “You do. I love everything about you. I’ve tried to fight it for so long. Putting it all down on paper really helped me see what I need to do with myself and how to make what we have right. I love you, Jacoby. I love you no matter what. You’re a dad, okay, I can work with that, as long as I have you. You work crazy hours, as long as I have you at the end of the day, all is right in the world. The best part about us is you love me no matter what, too. We’re kind of made for each other.”

  Jacoby places the computer on the desk and rushes to me, picking me up and kissing me over and over again. Each time his soft lips touch my skin, I get more lost in the moment, not caring about anything but being in his arms.

  “So where do we start?” Jacoby asks.

  “You read it. Call it an instruction manual if you wish, but you know what I’m looking for; what the end result should be,” I say, smirking.

  Jacoby licks the seam of my lips, asking for permission to kiss me senseless, and that’s exactly what happens. I’m completely lost and loving each and every second of it.

  “Wait, I have an idea,” Jacoby says, stopping the attack on my resolve. “You need to go see Mira so she knows you’re alive. She’s really been a basket case. I’ll meet you at my house later tonight.”

  “Um, okay, I guess.” I’m starting to wonder if Jacoby’s been dipping into some meth. The guy is looking around and plotting i
n his head. I see the gears in his brain working overtime. I’m a little concerned, but turned on at the same time.

  I quickly throw on some clothes and set off for Mira’s, leaving Jacoby behind in my apartment as he wishes. If I find out he’s wearing my panties or some weird shit, there’s going to be a serious conversation in order.

  I show up at Mira’s just as she’s getting in her car to leave. She eyes me suspiciously and starts to walk away, ignoring the fact that I’m walking straight toward her.

  “Mira, wait up.” I know she sees me, dammit.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been scared shitless that some creeper kidnapped and threw my best friend in a well. It doesn’t look like you’ve been putting lotion on your skin, so what the fuck happened?” Mira turns around, angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

  “I was just lost in writing, that’s all. I was home this entire time. Why didn’t you use your key?” She still has one, so what’s the problem really?

  “If you were on some crazy sex bender I didn’t want to be a part of it. I knew when you left after our Pitch Perfect dance party something was off. I knew you were freaking out about Jacoby and his daughter. I figured you were either dead or letting the first string seniors at U of M run a train on you, trying to fuck Jacoby out of your mind. I didn’t want to walk in on either scenario.”

  “Well, I’m glad you think so highly of me.”

  “You don’t get to flip this around. You leave my house late at night after coming over because you’re upset. You don’t answer your phone or the door. You scared me. Don’t fucking do it again or I’ll cut you out of my wedding.”

  “Skylar proposed?” I know I wrote it, and I know he bought a ring, but did he actually grow the balls to do it?

  “He did. It was magical and I wish that my best friend was the first person I told. I tried to keep it in, Ky, I really did, but I had to tell someone. Danny’s so happy for us. I was worried he would freak, but he and Melissa already gave us their RSVP.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Mi. Let me see that ring.” Mira thrusts her left hand forward, and in true Skylar fashion, it’s a one of a kind ring that proves his and Mira’s relationship is as unique as the black diamond in the center of red rubies. It’s absolutely gorgeous.