Scoring the Billionaire(52)

"No," I refuted. "Do not call me tomorrow, Wes."

Thatch's eyes met mine, and he flashed a rage-inducing wink in my direction.

"Stop. This." I glared at him as I tried to yank the phone from his  hands, but he had a serious Hulk-like grip on the damn thing. "Turn it  off, Thatch."

He just shrugged in response. "Sorry, Mini Winnie. No can do."

I continued to glare at him for a good minute before I yanked my purse  off the back of the chair and abruptly got out of my seat and moved to  the row behind Thatch. I refused to be a part of that circus.         

     



 

But nothing deterred him or Wes. Thatch continued on FaceTiming the performance, and Wes watched animatedly from his phone.

How'd I know this? Well, because I'm pathetic and I kept glancing to the side to see if he was still on the screen.

When Lexi stood on stage and said her three lines with perfect  precision, even adding a few extra facts about Betsy Ross and the way  the American flag was sewn together, I could hear Wes cheering louder  than anyone in the audience.

I hated that my heart enjoyed it so much.

And when I glanced back to see his facial expression, my heart all but  melted at the proud smile etched across his handsome face. Like a  father. He looked like he was Lexi's father, and he couldn't have been  more proud of his baby girl.

I mean, what was he trying to do to me?

Seriously? What was the point in all of this?

He was the one who had walked away, not me. He'd said he couldn't do it anymore.

But now, his actions refuted those words. They didn't show a man who  simply couldn't do it anymore. They showed a man who wanted to do it. A  man who wanted to be a part of mine and my daughter's life.

I honestly didn't know what to make of it.

I had never been more mindfucked than I was in that moment. Ironically,  this occurring in the middle of a grade-school auditorium, while a  little boy sang "Yankee Doodle Dandy" at the top of his lungs in the  most off-key singing I'd ever heard in my life, was about as  contradictory as it got.

There was nothing dandy about this situation at all.

Goddammit, Wes.





For the last two weeks, I'd been doing my best to be the kind of guy I  wanted to be, showing up to all of Lexi's events and helping out when  she stayed with Remy-without pressure.

I didn't want to be in Winnie's face, and sometimes I even sent Thatch  or Kline if I thought Winnie would react better to them than me.

If her interaction with Thatch last week had been anything to go by,  though … she hadn't. But Thatch had enjoyed it enough for the both of  them.

Of course, I hoped that at some point it would lead to reconciliation,  but even if it didn't, I wanted to be a part of their lives. I wanted it  for them, and I wanted it for me.

Winnie and Lexi Winslow made me happy.

Happier than I'd ever been, happier than when I'd thought I'd been my very happiest.

I liked being tied down to them, being someone they could count on and  paying witness to every awesome mark they left on the world.

I'd gotten used to it, and whatever the stupid details-like Winnie not wanting to be with me-I didn't want to give it up.

It was selfish. God, so selfish.

But this was the kind of selfish I was okay with being. I wasn't some do-gooder, and I wasn't a perfect guy. I never would be.

I don't want to be.

But I wouldn't mind being the perfect guy for them.

And today, it was finally time they knew where I stood. What they decided to do with it-well, that was up to them.

Thanks to covert operations by not only Remy, but also Jude and Ty, I  knew that Winnie and Lexi were planning to go out to the diner on 57th  and 6th for an after-school treat. Lex's IEP progress report had just  come in, and she was making strides in all the goals they'd set-and then  some.

I wanted so badly to be a part of that celebration. Mostly, so Lexi  would know that I was proud of her. Proud to know her. So goddamn proud  you'd think I'd pushed her out myself.

The bell dinged above the door as I stepped inside and shook the April  shower from my hair, and the bright light from outside had my eyes  adjusting slowly.



Men are dogs, after all. Am I right?



I could barely see anything, but the vivid coral of Winnie's shirt would  have been hard to miss anywhere-if I could have missed her.

Her head was down as she peeled the paper off of her cupcake and laughed  at something Lexi said as she chomped away on a donut. It was cut up on  her plate, and she was using a fork-something she always did with her  donuts-and my knees nearly caved at the sight.

I'd missed the two of them. Even hanging out on the fringes of their  life, I missed being on the inside. They had so much to give, and I  didn't want to miss any of it.         

     



 

Winnie's eyes came up right then, as if she'd heard me say the words aloud.

She looked startled.

But not angry.

Giving her the chance to decide if I had the privilege to join them or  not, I raised just one hand and showed her the inside of my fist.

All the answer I needed was her small smile.

With one last wipe of my feet on the doormat, I crossed the space until  the edge of their table came to my thighs. Lex looked up as my shadow  fell across her, and she smiled at the sight of my face.

I might as well have melted right there-because I was done. The two of  them smiling at me like they were, welcoming me, was all I needed in the  entire world.

Wanting so badly to say how I felt, but knowing blurting it out wasn't  the way to go, I folded my hand into the ASL sign for "I love you" and  pressed it against my thigh.

Lexi noticed.

"I love you," she said, and my heart flexed.

Choking on words and disbelief and pretty much just being a bumbling  buffoon, I only managed to stutter one horrendously eloquent word.  "What?"

"Your hand means ‘I love you,'" she explained.

"She's started learning sign language now," Winnie added.

I shook my head with a smile and barked the very beginning of a laugh.

"I am so screwed."

Winnie's face changed then, and I realized I wasn't screwed. Not yet. But I wanted to be-desperately.

Going with what felt natural, I started with that-with her, with my  favorite little girl in the whole wide world. I had two women to tell  how I felt, for different, very specific reasons, and that meant I had  to start with one.

"You're right, Lex. It does mean ‘I love you.'"

Her answering expression said "duh." I laughed again.

I asked Winnie for nonverbal permission to sit down, and she granted it with a nod of her head.

As I scooted into the booth, I pulled Lex's little chin in my direction with one gentle finger.

"I couldn't have fallen for a different kid, Lex."

Her eyes held mine as she tried to make sense of every word I spoke. My  voice shook with emotion as I went on. "It's you. You're special, and  not just for your brain or the things you won't ever be, but because you  took everything I thought I knew-and taught me different."

Not only was a woman with a kid not the last thing I needed-it was everything I did.

These people-this woman and this child-had taught me to be a man.

"I love you," I told her, but my eyes went over her head and straight to  the perfect blue eyes of her mother. "And that's an answer I didn't  have to Google."





I watched in awe and shock and all-consuming love as Wes told my  daughter that he loved her. My daughter. A kid who had been through some  serious hard knocks in her little life. A kid whose father had been  harder to find than Waldo.

Sure, she had my brothers, and they doted on her and loved her dearly.

But she had never had a man choose her like Wes just had.

He'd chosen her. Not out of relation or paternity or obligation, he'd  just chosen her because he needed to, because he wanted to, because he  loved her.

I couldn't stop the tears from slipping past my lids and down my cheeks  as Lexi grinned back at Wes, her wise little eyes all-knowing and  understanding of what he just said.

She might not have been able to express it in direct words or a  manifestation of emotion, but when she lifted up the rest of the donut  on her plate and handed it to Wes, saying, "I love you, too," that was  my Lexi's version of handling such a precious, beautiful moment.

Her attention moved across the table to me, and her endearing gaze  glanced down at my half-eaten cupcake and then back to my face.  "Cupcake, Mommy?"

"You want the rest of my cupcake, sweetie?" I asked while trying not to choke on the poignant emotion lodged in my throat.

She nodded and smiled a sugary sweet smile.

I laughed through my tears and slid my plate across to her. "It's all yours, Lexi Lou."

I had to look in the opposite direction of Wes for a long moment and get  myself together. I feared if I met his hazel gaze, I'd truly break into  sobs.         

     



 

But thankfully, he knew me well enough to give me those silent minutes,  seemingly content, so very content, with just sitting at the same table  as Lex and me.