Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
And that’s when it hits me. Why Celeste freaked out. Skyla walking in on us reminded her that I’m a single dad, while she’s a single, kid-less woman. I live in a townhouse, and she lives in a high-rise condo overlooking Central Park. I drive a ’67 Camaro, while the guys she’s used to dating ride in limos or have car services.
“Jase,” Celeste says. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Finish what you were going to say. It’s not you, it’s me, right?”
“No…yes…I don’t know.” She drops her bag and brings her hands up to her face. I step forward, needing to pull her into my arms. Every time I touch her, I feel that much more connected to her. And as I feel her pulling away, I feel the need to pull her back in. “Skyla walking in on us was just a shock. I guess I freaked out.”
“I’m a dad, Celeste. That’s not going to change.” She moves her hands from her face and looks into my eyes. “I know how different our worlds are. You’re this gorgeous and rich businesswoman and huge model. Hell, my daughter is a damn fan of yours. And I’m just me…a tattooist struggling to make ends meet.”
“Don’t do that,” Celeste chides. “Don’t belittle yourself. You’re an amazing, hands-on, single dad who owns his own tattoo shop and works his ass off to provide for his daughter.”
“Well, when you put it like that...” I grin playfully.
“When Nick and I were engaged, he found out he was going to be a dad.”
“Yeah, he told me a little bit about how it all played out. One-night-stand, they went their separate ways, and then she saw him playing…”
“Yeah, but when he found out, I freaked out on him. I told him I didn’t want to be a mom…ever.” I still at her words. “My childhood, Jase.” She shakes her head. “My mom was heartbroken and always high or drunk. We could barely keep the electric and water running.”
“Your situation’s changed,” I point out.
“Yes, financially it has. But…” Celeste’s eyes tear up, and she looks toward the sky, trying to will them away for several long seconds before she finally speaks. “Skyla already had one shit mother. The last thing she needs is another. She deserves nothing less than the best.”
There are so many things I could say to her right now. I could tell her she already has one up on half the parents in this world just by knowing and recognizing what makes a parent shitty. That the fact she unknowingly put my daughter first—even though she wouldn’t make a shit mother—by simply saying what she did, speaks volumes.
After my mom died, and Jax and I were forced to be raised by Quinn’s mom and my dad, I learned what it was like to be raised by parents who don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. Then I saw the shitty choices Amaya made for herself and her daughter, and how badly they affected Skyla. And it’s because I’ve seen the difference in good and bad parenting, I’ve made it my goal in life to be a good father to Skyla, but that doesn’t make me perfect. With every decision I make, all I can do is hope and pray I’m doing what’s right for my daughter.
Celeste has only been around Skyla a couple times, and she’s already done more for my daughter than her own mother ever did. More than what Quinn’s mom ever did for her. The truth is, Celeste would make a damn good mom, and I want nothing more than to tell her that so she knows just how amazing she is.
But I don’t say any of what I was just thinking because that’s not what she needs to hear. It’s too soon for her. She’s scared and freaking out. So I tell her what she needs to hear in this moment to talk her off the ledge. Because I can’t let her go. I plan to keep this woman, and while she may come across strong and powerful, independent and confident, there’s a piece of Celeste deep down that is vulnerable as fuck, questioning every decision she makes, scared of falling back down to where she came from.
“You’re not her mom, Celeste,” I tell her. “You’re just you. Someone she can debate Gucci or Prada with.” I give her a small, playful smirk, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’m her only parent. I’m her dad.”
Her shoulders visibly sag, confirming this is what she needed to hear.
“You hang out with Olivia, right?” She nods. “But you aren’t Reed’s mom.” Another nod. “I’m not asking you to parent Sky in any way. We’ve only just reconnected. All I’m asking is for you to give us a chance. Hang out and get to know each other.”