Page 2 of His for the Taking

“I’ll figure it out. Emma set up dates for schools to interview. That should help so she’s not shipped around too much between us now.” I pull at the tie, loosening its hold. The stress is getting to me with everything that needs to get done. I’d have a drink or two, except I’m driving, and no damn way will I take a chance, especially now.

“Or you can take a look at JoJo. She’s over there with Kody.” Matthew puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, acting like he isn’t conniving a plan. Kody is Shaun’s younger sister, who is Matthew’s lifelong friend, and in turn, mine as well.

“The last thing I need right now is to confuse Josephine.” My eyes move to the nearly two-year-old who has me wrapped around her finger. She’s doing a puzzle with Kody, who isn’t so young anymore. She left in her early twenties or maybe her teen years, I can’t quite remember, moved away, and apparently, she’s home for good. Nope, she’s all woman—dark hair, dark eyes, dark eyelashes, and a body that has me thinking of shit I have no right to.

“I’m just offering a suggestion. Kody’s home and is getting back on her feet. Not sure if she’s looking for a permanent nanny position, but she used to babysit all the kids around town. It could work out for the both of you.” My head tips to the side, and I really look at JoJo and Kody. My baby girl is laughing for the first time in a week. She’s not asking questions I’ve got no answers to, and she’s not trying to get her dad to smile. Josephine is being her normal self.

“Yeah, maybe,” I grunt. Meanwhile, I’m eye-fucking a woman who’s gotta be ten years my junior, a friend of the family in some aspect, and yet telling that to my hard-as-fuck cock is impossible.

“Let me know if you need her number.” Matthew claps me on the back, and a smug smirk is locked on his face. I’d sayfuck youand knock the look off his mug if it weren’t for the fact my eyes are glued on Kody.

2

KODY

“Is that Jameson’s little girl?” I ask Shaun, nodding to the little girl on the ground playing by herself. I never expected to land back in Lane County and living with my brother after going through a nasty-as-hell divorce. My ex-husband, Richie, was one for the record books. Most would look at him and think he’s handsome, rich, and a pedigree. Which he is for the most part. It’s his personality that kills off any good he may have inside of him. Pompous, arrogant, and a know-it-all. Not to mention Richie would use his words in a way that would tear you down and belittle you in every way. It was so bad that once I was done, I was done. I filed for divorce, on my own, and boy, was that the wrong move. For all I could care, Richie could keep everything. I wanted nothing except my photography business, clothes, and a few personal items. The only place I needed to be was home, back in North Carolina instead of thousands of miles away in Chicago. I ten out of ten do not suggest going it on your own. Especially with a man like Richie Gates. His pit bull of an attorney tried to take even more than I was willing to let go. Richie really wanted to go after my small photography business that he said was a complete and utter failure time and time again. That’s when I knew I had to call my big brother for help. He hired a pit bull attorney for me as well, who had no problem going head to head with Richie’s. Needless to say, months later, I’m finally back home, my maiden name firmly in place, my photography business my own, and living with my brother. Now here’s to rebuilding my life, my career, and everything that goes along with being a divorced woman in a small-ass town.

“Yeah, Josephine, or JoJo as most of us call her. She’s almost two, the light of Jameson’s eyes and probably the one reason he hasn’t worked himself into the ground.” Shaun’s best friend Matthew and Jameson are years older than me. I was anoopsbaby. They thought our mom was going through menopause when yikes, it was a pregnancy instead.

“She’s beautiful. Do you think he’d be opposed if I played with her?” She’s sitting on the floor, quietly playing by herself, and my heart aches for the little girl who will no longer have her mother.

“Go. I know it’s killing you not to. If Jameson has a problem, he’ll have no problem letting it be known.” I pull up my dress that seems to be drooping down with every slight movement I make. My borrowed black dress ready to cause a boob slip—talk about making a lasting impression. Unbeknownst to me when I landed back in Lane County, I’d need a dress. None of mine fit due to losing entirely too much weight because of the stress of the divorce. Thankfully, my mom and I are similar sizes, except Mom has boobs, while I’m part of the itty-bitty titty committee. That’s okay because I’d much rather have an ass than having to deal with bras, tops, and dresses popping open.

“Alright, you know where I’ll be.” My feet move toward the little girl while I feel like a sea of people have their eyes on me even though they more than likely don’t. A long time ago, something like people watching me wouldn’t have bothered me. That was a lifetime ago. Back when I was younger, I didn’t have a care in the world. If there were younger children around, that’s where you’d find me. It helped when I needed a job as a teenager. Being a babysitter in our small town meant I was always busy on the weekends. Some teens my age thought it was a horrible job. They had no idea all you had to do was tire them out, feed them, and make sure they were ready for bed at their bed time. Then you’d have the rest of the night for yourself to watch television, scroll on your phone, and get paid a decent amount where you didn’t have to deal with many people. It carried on through my years as a photographer, offering mini session with infants well into childhood.

“Can I play with you?” I ask Josephine, dropping to my knees, watching the skirt in order not to flash anyone.

“Pwease,” she says with enthusiasm.

“I’d love to. My name is Kody. What’s yours?” I question, already knowing the answer.

“Josephine,” she says with a lisp, “or JoJo.” She points to herself. A smile is plastered on her face. I’m taken aback because Josephine is the spitting image of Jameson.

“It’s nice to meet you.” I don’t offer my hand to shake hers. No toddler is going to want to do that anyways. They’re more interested in playing and talking than being Miss Manners. “What’s your favorite thing to play with?” She’s currently playing with baby dolls, picking one up, tearing the dress off, and doing the same to the next until all of them are naked. I’d chuckle if we weren’t in a crowded room.

“Babies dolls, pwuzzles.” She pauses, her little tongue coming out to think about something else to say. “Toons!” she says so loudly, the attention I thought was on me earlier is now on me and Josephine completely. My head turns on a swivel, and when they meet a certain set of crystal-blue eyes, well, there’s no denying where Josephine gets her eyes from because my gaze is locked with Jameson Evans’. The only problem with his sharp, keen eyes on mine is that I’m not sure what I really see staring back at me. All I know is a shiver courses through my body. I’ll have to overanalyze it later. Josephine’s hand covers mine, and I’m pulled back into playing with Jameson’s little girl.

3

JAMESON

Istood around and listened to condolences for Emma, one eye on Josephine as Kody played with her throughout most of the wake. It wasn’t until I saw my little girl yawn four times in mere minutes that I intervened. I thanked Kody with a head nod, my hands went out to Josephine, scooped her up in my arms, and I took her into the bedroom my parents keep for her at their house. When I came back out of the back room after securely placing Josephine in the bed with guard rails, I knew without a visual that Kody was gone.

“Why don’t you keep her here tonight? And you can stay here, too,” my mom says quietly once everyone has left. The only people here now are our immediate family. Matthew and Lacey are helping clean up the food, trash, and whatever else was left behind. Dad is standing beside Mom, shaking his head because he already knows I’m not going to let that happen. Not tonight, at least. Probably not for a long while either.

“I appreciate it, but I’d rather be in my own bed and have JoJo at home. She may have questions, and as hard as they are, I know they’ll come anytime now.” Josephine won’t have any questions. I’m lying to my parents and my damn self. She hasn’t yet so far when I’ve explained to her that her mom is in heaven and looking down at her. She’s asked a few times where her mom is, and I’ll reiterate the same thing, then she’ll go back to playing. Tonight, though, I feel raw, even though I didn’t have a physical or emotional relationship with Josephine’s mom. My heart still breaks for Emma and Josephine. Which is why, when we get home tonight, I’ll settle her in my bed, grab a quick shower, and hold on to my little girl on what she’ll never know will be one of the hardest days of her life.

“It was worth a shot. If anything changes, you know we're here.” I know she’s gearing up to mention wanting to take Josephine full-time while I work.

“I know, and I appreciate it.” I bend down to kiss her cheek. She squeezes my arms, and I stand back.

“Alright, stubborn firstborn boy of mine. We’re here, always,” Mom states.

“Let the boy get JoJo, Mariam. You’ll stay up worrying about the few miles he’ll have to travel in order to get home as it is.” He’s not wrong. It doesn’t matter that I’m nearing forty, that Matthew isn’t too far behind me in age. She expects a call or a text when we get home. The same can be said for Lacey on the rare occasions she’s not with Matthew.

“Fine,” Mom huffs. I chuckle under my breath. As if it pains her to be called out on her worry when we all know it’s coming from a good place. Dad shakes his head as we walk toward the back of their ranch-style house they’ve lived in since we came home from the hospital. Not much has changed in my parents’ house. The walls in the hallway are covered with different-sized frames. Every year or milestone or another, one is added to the wall. There are pictures of Mom and Dad, Matthew and Lacey, but the majority of the pictures that cover the walls. Those are filled with Josephine. Something tells me Mom will eventually run out of room or the older pictures will be taken over by more of the only granddaughter.

“She means well. You know it, and I know it. If you choose to put JoJo in school, we’ll understand, but maybe give your mom once a week with her. Your mother doesn’t do well with change, you know?” Dad makes a valid point. The schools Emma was looking into means she’d attend five days a week. Josephine is only two. It seems to be too much for too long, but what the fuck do I know?

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