Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(85)

She gasps.

“Please, baby…don’t push me away again.”

*





Axelle





“Wake up, sleepyhead. Santa came.” I run my hands through Jack’s thick blond hair until his eyes blink open. “Hey, Merry Christmas, buddy.”

He yawns and pushes himself up from his racecar toddler bed. “Santa came?” His scratchy little voice is laced with excitement.

“He did. You wanna come see?”

He nods and throws his arms around my neck, his four-year-old-body clad in red-and-green camo pj’s his Uncle Braeden sent him for Christmas. “Did he bring me a Nerf N-Strike Elite Rhino-Fire Blaster?” He punctuates his question with another yawn.

I nuzzle his little neck. “I think you’ll have to unwrap them all to find out.”

As we step into the living room, the Christmas tree lights bathe everything in an ethereal glow. His eyes pop wide open, and he wiggles out of my arms. “Santa came!”

He races to the tree, and I grab the coffee I made when I woke up and settle on the couch with my legs tucked beneath me.

“Whoa…” Blake comes in, dragging his feet, wearing his red pajama pants and UFL T-shirt. “I thought I heard elves out here.” He swings his eyes to me. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

“Merry Christmas.” I nod to the kitchen. “Coffee’s made.”

“Thank God.” He moves slowly to the kitchen when my mom comes barreling out of the hallway with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail and her Christmas shorts and tank top on. Yeah, we’re the cheesy Christmas pajama family. It’s a beautiful thing.

“Did I miss anything?” She drops to her knees next to Jack as he pulls every single present from under the tree.

“Mom, look what Santa brought!” His face is so bright and cheery, not a single trace of the tired kid I brought out here just seconds before.

“I see. Now don’t forget to only open gifts with your name on them, okay?”

“J-A-C-K. Here’s one!” He pushes it behind his back. “This starts with A.” He shoves it back under the tree. “J-A. Another one!”

Blake returns from the kitchen with two mugs. He hands one off to my mom and kisses her lightly. “Merry Christmas, Mouse.”

They’re so cute I could puke.

Blake drops down beside me. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah, too good. I thought I’d sleep in and miss Christmas.”

“Your room warm enough?”

“Yes, Dad.” I shake my head and take a sip of coffee.

He grins. Big. “Just making sure you’re comfortable in your new home.”

My smile falls a little. It wasn’t by choice, necessarily, that I ended up living back at home with my mom and Blake, but I can’t deny it was the smart thing to do.

Or more importantly the safest thing to do.

I can’t complain.

Things could be worse.

Things could always be worse.





Twenty-nine





One month later…





Killian





“It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.”

I dart my eyes to Caleb, who’s blinking up at the Eiffel Tower.

“It’s called the Eiffel Tower, cowboy.” Laise grins through his beard and ’stache. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen it on TV and in pictures. I guess I wasn’t expecting the base of it to be so…wide.”

“That’s what she said,” I mumble.

Caleb’s head whips toward me. “Holy shit. You just delivered a Daniels’ line like it was nothing.”

I shrug, grinning at the iron masterpiece before me. “I did, didn’t I?”

He slaps me on the shoulder. “The old man would be proud.”

My chest warms at the thought. Truth be told, regardless of how I left things with Blake, I miss the guy. It’ll be good to go home and see them, talk with Cam, and announce my plan to come back and fight in London for another five years.

It makes sense. My career is at its peak. I have a great team. Leaving would be like backsliding.

“Killian, come here!” Fleur waves me over to where she’s standing with a guy I’ve never seen before.

It took weeks for things to normalize between us after our night together. I felt so horrible about what I’d done I confessed my history with Axelle to Fleur as if I was lying on a psychiatrist’s couch. Just what a woman wants to do, listen to a guy go on and on about another woman.

I’m such an *.

No matter how many times I’ve apologized, she insists it’s not necessary. She swears she seduced me and knew exactly what she was getting into. I suppose that’s true, but I never should’ve let it happen. The good news is we both value our friendship too much to allow my moment of instability to screw it up.

“What’s up?” I look between her and the guy who, now that I’m closer, is more like a kid.

“This is Rene; he’s a huge fan.”

I reach out and shake his hand, which is a little clammy, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s shaking. “Nice to meet you, Rene.”