Page 185 of A Little Broken

Ishould probably be in a better mood. After all, one of my best friend’s is getting married and has been head over heels for the girl for years. I think all of us have known they’d tie the knot at one point or another. Add in everything they’ve been through to get here, and I’m pretty sure they’re soulmates.

Guess I’m a little jaded after my own experience. It doesn’t help that I just dropped off my daughter, Poppy, to my ex. A shiver runs up my spine from the memory alone as I reach for Maverick’s parents’ front door and walk inside without waiting for an invitation. To be honest, his parents would be offended if I did anything else.

It’s quiet for what feels like the first time in months as I take in the empty foyer before walking further into the house. Ever since Maverick announced his proposal to Ophelia, the hinges have been working double time to accommodate all the Sunday brunches as family and friends gather to plan their big day.

The question is, where is everyone? I mean, I know I’m a few minutes early, but still. I take in the empty kitchen and largefamily room. A veggie tray, bowl of fruit, and basket of bagels sit on the kitchen counter as Maverick’s mom appears from the opposite hallway. Her hair is the color of honey at the moment, though I’ve seen it range from black to silvery blonde over the years. I’m pretty sure this color suits her best. When she smiles, her eyes crinkle in the corners, and it never ceases to amaze me. The way she carries herself. So inviting and genuine. It reminds me of her daughter, Rory, though Archer, Maverick’s twin, was the same way.

“Jax.” Opening her inked arms, she strides toward me and pulls me into a hug. “Hey, you’re early.”

I return her grasp with a smile, wrapping my arms around her willowy frame. “Hey, Aunt Mia.” The name rolls off my tongue with ease, despite the lack of actual blood-relation. Even so, she’s family, thanks to being one of my mom’s best friends. Always has been, always will be. Letting her go, I explain, “Sorry I’m early, I dropped off Poppy and figured, why head home only to turn back around and—” My phone vibrates in my pocket, making my brows dip as I pull it out. “Shit, one sec.” It’s my ex, Iris. My stomach bottoms out at the six letters shining from my screen before I glance back at my Aunt Mia. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

“No worries.” She motions to the sliding glass doors off the kitchen. “People are going to be here in a few minutes, if you want to use the balcony for some privacy.”

“Thanks.”

Heading toward the glass doors, I answer my phone and bring it to my ear. “Hey, Iris?—”

“You forgot her backup bottle.”

My muscles seize as I register her words. Of course, that’s why she’s calling. It’s not like she doesn’t have a dozen bottles at her place already. And I know I put it in the diaper bag. I fucking know it. It was in the side pocket where it always is. I also madesure to pack at least four extra diapers, two binkies, and diaper rash cream, since the last time Iris watched her, she came back with a sore bum. So no. I didn’t forget the bottle. I know it, and so does Iris. She’s calling to pick a fight.

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I mutter, “Are you sure? I thought I?—”

“I’m not an idiot, Jax. It’s not here.”

I grind my teeth and drop my hand to my side. “Never said you’re an idiot, Ris. I’m sorry if I forgot to pack?—”

“If?” she snaps.

Breathing in deep through my nose, I pray for patience and step outside, hoping the fresh air will help ground me. It’s warm and bright, making me squint as I offer, “I’m at Mav’s right now, but I can swing by and drop off another bottle in a couple hours. Does that work?”

A quiet splash from the pool echoes over the wrought iron railing, distracting me. I walk toward the sound, confused. I thought I was early? Ophelia suggested a lazy pool party so all the ladies could get some sunshine and the kids could play in the water as everyone catches up. But if I’m early, who’s in the pool now?

The warm wrought iron seeps into my forearms as I wait for Iris’s answer and peek over the edge. The grass surrounding the pool is green, but free of the dozen bodies I have no doubt will be scattered across it within the next half-hour. Mav, Ev, Reeves, Griffin. They’ll be here soon with their families. The chairs surrounding the pool are empty too, except for a stack of folded towels. Aunt Mia must’ve laid them out in preparation for the looming chaos.

Someone’s in the pool, though I don’t know who. Thanks to the light reflecting off the surface, I’m half-blind up here. Squinting, I try to collect clues on who it might be. Baby blue bikini. Tan skin. No kids. No boyfriend or husband. She’s alone.A divot forms between my brows and I bend closer, trying to place the stranger beneath the water’s rippling surface. She kicks her legs, stretching her arms in front of her as she swims from one end of the pool to the next, her head never breaking the surface. My dick stirs at the imagery, her body rolling like a mermaid’s, her long hair trailing behind her. Her baby blue swimsuit outlining her tight ass.

Who the hell is this girl?

“Are you even listening to me?” Iris snaps. The venom dripping through the speaker is almost enough to convince me to drag my attention from the woman beneath me, but not quite.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mutter. “I’m here.”

Except I’m not. I’m still lost in the water. The fluid movements. The sun-kissed skin. The subtle curves. Fuck, thanks to the fallout with Iris, I haven’t wanted anything to do with the opposite sex until this very moment.

At least I know I’m not dead.

When the stranger reaches the opposite end of the pool, her head breaks the surface and she flips onto her back, not bothering to open her eyes as she lazily soaks up the sun above us.

Gorgeous.

Fucking gorgeous.

And almost familiar.

Cocking my head, I take her in again, from toe to head. The sun glistens off the water, painting her into a mirage. Long legs. Short torso. Oval-shaped face. Rosy cheeks. Why do I recognize her?

As if she can feel my stare—as if she can read my fucking thoughts—the woman lowers her legs into the water. Brushing her wet hair away from her face, she peeks up at me on the balcony, the view threatening to knock me on my ass. Recognition sparks in her pretty gaze and her pouty lips part as astone falls in my gut, confirming what a small part of me already knew, but didn’t want to acknowledge.

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