Page 45 of Stranded
He stood akimbo. “You think I offed your mother, and you’re so casual about it. You’re still here.”
“I know, I know. I’m bad, huh?”
“So fucking bad.” He grasped my hips and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Lucky thing I know exactly how to get a rotten boy to behave.”
“Are you willing to put up with a rotten boy all your life?”
“If it’s this bratty boy, yes.”
I smiled so widely my cheeks hurt. “Good. Then take me upstairs to your bedroom. I want you to fuck me in her bed so I can make new memories for you in there. I’m going to be the best you’ve ever had in your marital bed, Daddy.”
“Fuck,” Jackson swore. “Deni, such a petty, pretty boy. What am I going to do with you?”
“Punish me.”
EPILOGUE
JACKSON
Icouldn’t withhold my groan when I walked out onto the private beach and found Aiden scattering rose petals. His mother’s favorite. He was as stubborn as he’d been five years ago. I sneaked up on him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He didn’t even startle, just smiled.
“How did you know it was me?” I asked.
“I always know. I can feel you when you’re nearby.”
I kissed his tanned neck. Since we’d moved to our beachfront property in California, where no one knew our real relationship, a lot had changed. He was more tan now. I was working as a security consultant. Aiden reminded me my life wasn’t over yet. Now I was able to be a Jackson 2.0.
“Why do you still insist on doing this?”
Ignoring me, Aiden continued to scatter the petals. “It’s to ease my guilt over what happened.”
“Stubborn boy.” I bit his neck playfully. “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t organize a hit on your mother?”
“Then why hasn’t she contacted me in all this time? She might not have been the best mother, but she wouldn’t have done that.”
“Yet she did. I’m sorry your mother walked out on you, Aiden, but she’s not dead. She’s truly alive somewhere.”
“Hmm. If she was truly alive and didn’t get in touch with me, then she’s dead to me either way, so let me scatter my flowers.”
He was being overly dramatic especially since we were the one who’d wrong Melodie, but Aiden didn’t seem to care. I took the small basket from him, dumped it all onto the sand, and scooped him up in my arms.
Aiden squealed, “Jackson!”
“Shush, I have something for you to do, since you obviously have nothing else pressing.” I trudged back the way I’d come.
“I was doing something!”
“Scattering rose petals for a mother who’s still alive?”
“I still don’t know if she is.”
“Five years, Aiden. We’ve argued about this for five years.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. What do you want my help with?”
“This.” I kicked off my sandals and walked him inside our little two-bedroom beach house. It’d cost us a small fortune, but it gave us the privacy we craved. I brought him upstairs to our bedroom, where I lowered him to the ground. He walked over to the bed and took up the pink fabric.
“Ooh,” he said. “These are for me?”
