TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,2
unload, but—”
“Nope. I’m good,” I interrupt, hopping into the driver’s seat, slamming the heavy door behind me. “I got this.” I hang a fist out the window, giving him the old thumbs up, willing myself to feel the confidence I’m trying to display. “Thanks for everything, man.”
Chance is not only one of my best buds, but also a very sore subject when it comes to Nya. It could have a little something to do with my investing the inheritance I received from my grandfather to go in with him to open a club on the Vegas strip.
Don’t look at me like that. It seemed like a great idea at the time, to a fresh out of college finance major with tens of thousands of dollars suddenly burning a hole in his bank account. But apparently, those are not the types of decisions a man makes without consulting his new wife. Believe me, I see the error of my ways, hindsight being twenty-twenty and all, but I still lost my girls. I’ve been paying for that stupidity for nearly ten years.
I finally have the opportunity to right all the wrongs. I won’t screw this up. I can’t. I’ve got to move fast, quite literally.
When I turn into the subdivision, I jab my first two fingers on the buttons, lowering the glass on the driver and passenger-side windows. Then I twist the knob, cranking the sound up as loud as it will go just as I round the last curve leading to the cottage-style house Nya and I picked out together not long after discovering she was pregnant. The little house is situated on half an acre in a quiet town just south of Vegas, called Clairmont. “Mama, I’m Coming Home” by Ozzy Osbourne blasts through the speakers as I pull up to the curb, shifting the U-Haul into park. Nothin’ like a little mood music to set the tone.
Here goes… I pull in a deep breath before resting an elbow on the horn, smiling to myself as I anxiously await the epic tantrum I know is coming. Three, two—
“Daddy!” Ellie shouts, running through the front door in a pair of pink footy pajamas, her raven hair a tangled mess. She looks so small and not at all like the preteen drama queen she’s quickly becoming. “What are you doing here?”
Before I can answer, my heart’s in my throat at the sound of her mother’s voice approaching behind her.
“Yeah, Liam. What are you doing here?” the love of my life grits through clenched teeth. Unlike our daughter, her long dark hair is sleek and shiny. Her copper toned skin is free of any makeup save for a light shimmer accentuating her pouty lips. I lick my own instinctively as I take in the skin-tight jeans that cling to her perfectly round ass like a glove.
With a shrug, I climb down, pretending not to notice the fire blazing in her eyes as I approach her and our daughter. “Listen.” I cup a hand over my right ear, belting out the chorus. I won’t even lie—I’m thoroughly enjoying the horrified look on her face.
“Oh, no. No, Liam. This is not happening.” She plants a hand on her cocked hip, eyes narrowed my direction. Lord, I love getting her all riled up like this. The flush in her cheeks and the frustrated breath she blows up toward her hair only spur me on.
“What’s not happening?” Ellie asks, confusion marring her pretty face. So, Nya hasn’t even told her yet. This is turning out to be even more fun than I thought.
“Oh, it’s happening,” I assure Nya, my eyes briefly connecting with hers before turning to face our little girl. “Remember your wish?”
“Uhh…” she stammers, chewing her lower lip as she waffles between her mother and me. “Yeah?”
I think back to two nights ago. Her eleventh birthday. The day our daughter unknowingly delivered the second chance I’ve been searching for.
“Make a wish, Ellie,” Nya urges. My chest tightens when she latches onto my arm as she gazes adoringly at our little girl pursing her lips to blow out eleven pink, sparkly candles.
Don’t get me wrong, we have a great relationship as far as divorced couples go, but she’s not usually so touchy-feely with me. Especially not since Ryder came into the picture. So I can’t help but allow myself to revel in the moment.
“I know what I’m gonna wish for,” Ellie says, looking fondly at her mother and me.