Page 3 of Laying His Claim
“Tyler won’t mind,” she admitted, “it’s for the best. We’re here for you.”
The idea of going home to Kaiya’s rather than being stuck on her own, to find a new place to live and learn to be human all over again without any help, brought a feeling of relief. There were still so many things she still couldn’t cope with yet. Having a pillar of strength to lean on would be… A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Kaiya?”
“Yeah, Hon?”
“I’ll come home with you, on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you don’t tell Justin where I am.”
Kaiya’s brows lifted. “Why not?”
She was at a loss to explain. “I don’t know. I just…”
“But he’s your—”
“Fiancé. I know. It’s just…” Jalissa grabbed her friend’s forearm in desperation. “Promise me, Kaiya. Please. Just let me have some time on my own to process…” she indicated her body with a wave of her hand, “all this.”
Kaiya pondered, but not for long. “It’s a deal, Babe. But just so you know, it won’t take him long to figure out where you are. And when he does… all I’ll say is when it comes to you and… Well, Justin always gets what he wants.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, as you know, I am your power of attorney.”
Jalissa cut her off. “Was I yours as well?” She wanted to know how close they were before her accident.
“You were until your accident and since I was pregnant, and you were in a coma, I made Ty my POA.”
“Understandable. Go on.”
“During your coma there were decisions to be made—medically—and Justin and I disagreed on many things, but in the end I just gave in and did what he thought was best. Everything he fought for was in your best interest,” Kaiya finished.
Jalissa pondered this. What else had been in her ‘best interest’, which Kaiya hadn’t been happy with?
* * *
“That’s it, Sebastian,” Justin said softly to his son as he rolled the oversized Mickey Mouse beach ball across the lush carpet to the baby. Seb had just about mastered the art of sitting up on his own, something which never ceased to thrill Justin. The boy was seated just a few feet from his father, wearing nothing but a pale blue romper - Mickey Mouse again - a smear of applesauce, and a happy grin.
Seb lunged for the ball and tipped over like one of those inflatable bopper toys, bumping the carpet and springing back. It was all Justin could do not to rush over, grab him up and check for bruises.
Kids fall over, he reminded himself. And then they got up again, resilient as ever. Seb had managed to claim the ball as his own and was now enthusiastically sucking on it. This time, Justin intervened. “Oh no, you don’t. Applesauce is for eating, balls are for playing, okay?”
Seb looked into his father’s eyes adoringly and chortled as if he’d uttered the most hilarious thing.
Justin grabbed the ball and rolled it again, after which the two of them spent another happy fifteen minutes wrestling on the carpet, despite the fact that Justin’s, now wrinkled, suit was a bespoke Brioni piece that had set him back almost six-grand. Who’d have thought a man like him would have gotten spit-up on his favorite jacket and just laughed it off?
When they were both exhausted, he lifted his son into his arms and walked over to the bench seat in front of the French windows that looked over his expansive estate. The gently rolling slopes of green were well manicured and, just under the window, he had placed several bird feeders so that he and Seb could sit and watch the little birdies. Though, if he were honest, the squirrels also claimed it as an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“See that, Seb?” he whispered into the child’s ear. “That’s yours. All of it.”
* * *
“What a pretty picture!”
The deep voice penetrated Justin’s light doze. He startled awake to find Seb snoozing in his arms where they were still curled up on the comfortable bench in the playroom. His brother, Finn, was standing over them, arms folded, looking amused as hell.
“What’s so funny?” Justin griped, shifting Seb so the arm that had gone to sleep would finally have some blood circulating again.
