FIXED ON YOU TRILOGY: Jayoncé ❤️ 18+🥵🔥

CHAPTER 17: DADDY IN LAW 🥰

Streams of sunlight poured through the windows, warming and waking me up earlier than I would have on my usual sleep schedule. Before looking, I sensed I was alone. When I turned, I squinted at the clock on the nightstand next to where Shawn should have been sleeping. Nine twenty-seven.

I blinked several times, adjusting my eyes, while I considered whether I wanted to get up and search for my lover or roll over and go back to sleep. I still hadn’t made a decision when the doors opened to the bedroom and Shawn appeared wearing nothing but black silk pajama bottoms and carrying a breakfast tray.
“Good, you’re awake,” he said as I sat up, the smell of coffee luring me further out of sleep. “I’m showing my family what an awesome boyfriend I am by bringing you breakfast in bed. Omelets. Sans mushrooms, of course. No cherry-flavored blow pops.” He winked as he set the tray on the table in the sitting area.
“This is one of those inappropriate moments for a blow pop anyway. And you should have said amazingly awesome boyfriend. Breakfast in bed is the best.” Though the thing making my mouth water was the never tiresome sight of Shawn barefoot and shirtless.
“I’m not that awesome.” He left the tray and untied the string of his PJs, letting them fall to the ground, exposing his beautifully erect penis. He slid under the covers and climbed over me. “I’m going to make you eat it cold.”
Before his kiss prevented me from speech or thought I mumbled, “Cold breakfast sounds perfect.”
It was almost noon before we were ready to dress for the day. Shawn had offered to draw me a bath to soak my sex sore limbs, but I opted for a shared shower, wanting to extend our intimacy as long as possible before we were on-duty again.
After we’d dried and dressed—Shawn in khaki pants and polo, me in a cream sundress—he left me to take our dirty dishes down while I finished primping. I chose to sweep my hair into a ponytail, an easy and quick option, so I could follow him shortly, though the idea of hiding out in the bedroom as long as I could, had crossed my mind. Truth was, as much as I didn’t want to face Sophia, I wanted to be with Shawn more.
Not knowing my way around the house yet, I headed first to the kitchen, hopeful that he’d still be there. I paused outside the swinging kitchen door when I heard voices—Shawn’s and Sophia’s.
“—didn’t invite you so you could stay in your room all day and fuck like bunnies,” Sophia was saying.
Yeah, I wasn’t walking in yet. I pressed my ear to the door, listening.
“Then why did you invite us?” Shawn’s voice was calm, his ability to smoothly wield his mother impressing me. Was Sophia the first woman he’d mastered? Had he practiced his skills of manipulation on her? Was our elaborate scheme to fool her now a substitute for the games he’d played on other women?
I wasn’t judging him for any of it. Just curious.
“I invited you because I think she—any woman you involve yourself with, for that matter—has a right to be protected. Has a right to know.”
“Her name is Beyoncé, Mother.” He surprised me with the sharpness of his tone. “And she already knows.” He laughed gruffly. “I love how you believe no one could possibly feel something for me because of who I was in the past.”
My chest tightened, ached for what I knew Shawn must be feeling. Idris had held my mistakes over me as well, always doubting that I could ever be better. The lack of familial support made healing all the more difficult.
Maybe Shawn and I could be strength for each other. It was a dangerous thought, putting too much importance into our solely physical relationship, but whom was I kidding? I’d long passed the moment when my emotions had entered into the picture. What was the point of fighting it longer?
Maybe we could be…more.
I’d missed some of the conversation, lost in my own head, but Sophia’s raised voice drew me back. “—can’t understand how you could tell her? What if she exposes you? Exposes us? Our family doesn’t need that kind of scandal.”
“My life is more than a scandal waiting to happen, Mother.”
“Your life is a series of scandals. Scandals that your father and I are continuously cleaning up. Your bartender whore is just the next scandal.”
Even though I’d promised myself to not let her get to me, Sophia’s insult was a punch in the gut. My eyes stung, but before tears could form, Shawn’s defense softened the blow.
“Don’t you dare talk about Beyoncé like that again. If you do, I—“
“Finding out anything good?”
I jumped away from the door, the unfamiliar male’s voice behind me both startling and shaming me for being caught eavesdropping. I forced my eyes to his and blushed even deeper. The chiseled face was more attractive in person than in the pictures I’d seen on the Internet, and the resemblance to his son so striking it was almost eerie, as if I were viewing Shawn thirty years in the future. He looked younger than the sixty years I knew him to be, his frame trim with only a slight paunch, and his features striking.
Shawn’s father cocked his head and stroked his goatee, a gesture that seemed so natural I imagined he frequently employed it. “I’m judging by the look on your face that you already know who I am.”
“Yes. You’re Jonathan Carter.”
“And you…hmm…don’t tell me…” He looked me over in such a way that I knew he appreciated what he saw, yet I didn’t feel ogled. “You’re a little old for Chandler, and Kelly doesn’t ever pick friends who are prettier than her. That leaves Shawn. I’d heard a rumor he was dating someone, but I never imagined it was true.”
His tone was charming and easy, a hint of a drawl revealing his New York roots. His manner relaxed me even though I’d been caught in an embarrassing situation. “I’m Shawn’s girlfriend, Beyoncé Knowles.” I held my hand out to him. “But please call me Bey, Mr. Carter.”
He took my hand with both of his and held it as he spoke. “My friends call me Jack, and I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.” He patted my hand, the action managing to stay just on the right side of the okay/creepy line. When he let go, he nodded his head toward the kitchen. “Who’s in there anyway?”
A guilty smile lined my lips. “Shawn and your wife.”
Jack rolled his head dramatically. “Please refrain from reminding me I’m married to that woman.” His eye twinkled mischievously. “We obviously don’t want to go in there. Have you been given a tour of Mabel Shores?”
“Mabel Shores?”
“If Shawn hasn’t told you the name of this house, he’s certainly not given you a tour. How lucky that I’m available to do the honor.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
I hesitated only a second, Jack’s charismatic demeanor impossible to turn down. Besides, Shawn had said our sham was meant to convince both his parents. Spending time with his father could only be beneficial to the cause. And the truth was, though I knew Shawn expected me, postponing my next face-to-face with Sophia sounded like an excellent idea.
Jack leisurely led me through the house, providing historical and architectural trivia spattered with the occasional humorous anecdote. The main floor featured a spacious living room, library, gym, and a media room as well as two guestrooms. The décor remained traditional throughout, but very up-to-date and stylish.
He ignored showing me the upstairs, stating that there wasn’t much to see besides the bedrooms. We also avoided the dining room and kitchen, slipping out the French doors in the office on the opposite side of the house to explore the grounds instead.
We talked easily throughout the tour, Jack’s charm never faltering. Though he was more than twice my age and the father of my lover, I adored him and his shameless flirting. He was harmless and fun and much more pleasant than I’d ever imagined a renowned businessman could be. I began to piece together the Carter family, understanding Kelly’s welcoming personality now that I’d met Jack. I could even spot what Shawn had inherited, recognizing his magnetism and sexual prowess came from his father. And the playfulness that Shawn occasionally adopted—that was his dad.
When we’d circled most of the east gardens and were headed back toward the house, Jack grew somewhat serious. “So you and Shawn…that’s a pleasant surprise.”
“I’m not sure that I want to know what’s surprising about us.”
“Nothing bad. Shawn doesn’t date much. I’m glad to see that the girl he finally brought home is someone as delightful as you. I hope it sticks.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” I savored my next words as I said them, relishing the sweetness of their honesty. “I’m quite stuck on the man. I’ve fallen for him pretty hard.”
Jack stared at me, reading my face. “Yes, I believe you have. That’s wonderful. Truly.”
His sincerity was touching, and a rush of emotion surged in my chest. It felt good to have someone rooting for our fake relationship. It validated my growing belief in the possibility of more.
My confidence was short-lived, however, Jack’s next words reminding me of the barriers lying between Shawn and myself. “What was Sophia saying about you? I’ve been dying to ask.”
“When? Oh.” I turned away, pretending to admire the purple grapelike flowers lining the cobblestone path.
He pushed gently, understanding lacing his words. “It had to be not very nice. You were ashen when I found you.”
I sighed, thinking how best to sum up what I’d overheard and how it made me feel. “She doesn’t like me.”
Jack shrugged. “Sophia doesn’t like anyone.” He didn’t bother to hide his own disdain for the woman, and I wondered how he had ended up with her in the first place. “But I imagine she especially doesn’t like you. Which is why it’s so delicious that I do.”
Shaking my head, I ignored his teasing. “Is it because of me or because of Shawn?”
“The reasons I like you have absolutely nothing to do with Shawn.”
I leveled a stern look in Jack’s direction. “I was talking about Sophia—your wife. Why does she especially not like me?”
Jack stroked his goatee and resumed walking toward the house. “It isn’t you.”
Bartender whore. I followed him, Sophia’s earlier remarks resounding again in my head. “Really? I bet she’d welcome Mariah into Shawn’s arms.”
“Because she adores Mariah. Always has.”
We’d reached the veranda at the back of the house where Jack gestured to sit. I sank into a cushy loveseat and curled my feet up underneath me. “Doesn’t she want Shawn to be happy?”
Jack took the chair across from me, a small wooden table separating us. It was his turn to sigh. “She doesn’t want anyone to be happy. Particularly Shawn. They’ve had many battles in a lifelong war, and she’s not a forgiving woman.”
Again I thought of my relationship with Idris. As much of a pain in the ass that he’d been lately, I couldn’t say I didn’t understand why. He and I had suffered our own battles and the wounds ran deep. And I wasn’t Idris’s child. I imagined the dynamic between us would be so much worse if I were. Also, though my brother could be domineering, neither he nor I could compare to the battle of wills demonstrated by Shawn and Sophia.
I rested my head back against the loveseat and stared at the rough textured concrete ceiling. “Then there’s no way to win her over?”
“No.” His answer was firm, final.
If that were true, then the job I’d been paid to do was doomed to fail from the start. “Your son seems to think there is.”
Jack shook his head sadly, taking a long moment before responding. “That’s too bad. I thought he was long past caring.” His expression was raw, and I could see that though he hid it well, he’d been deeply affected by the bad blood between his wife and son.
Then the mask went back up, the pain on his face replaced with his earlier easy-going character. “Now, I on the other hand, am very easy to win over. I can give you some ideas if you need them.” He winked.
I laughed, letting go of the serious thoughts and emotions weighing on me. “I’ve already won you over.”
He feigned disappointment. “Damn. I’ve never had a good poker face.”
“But I bet you still win plenty of hands.”
“Shall we play later and find out?” He leaned toward me, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Alone? In the guest house? Strip?”
I laughed again. “I’ll play in the main house, you dirty old man. With others present and all our clothing on.”
“You just killed all the fun.”
We were both laughing when Shawn appeared in the doorway of the house, his features appearing anxious at the sight of his father. “There you are.” He came behind me, and laid a firm hand on my shoulder. “I was worried and now I see I should have been.”
“I’m fine.” I placed my hand over his and craned my neck up to meet his eyes. “Jack’s been showing me around Mabel Shores. I’ve had an amazing time.”
Shawn’s tone was skeptical. “Then he hasn’t tried to come on to you?”
“No, he has.” I smiled over at Jack. “But we’re all good.”
Shawn moved around to sit next to me on the loveseat, resting his hand possessively on my knee.
As if challenged by his son’s marking of his territory, Jack said, “I’m telling you, Bey, with age comes experience. If you really want an amazing time…”
Shawn’s grip tensed. “I don’t like this.”
Jack laughed, confirming my suspicion that he enjoyed toying with his son. “Relax, Shawn. It’s all in fun.”
I uncurled my legs and leaned into Shawn’s side, secretly thrilled with Shawn’s jealous show. “We’re fine, Shawn. He knows I’m hopelessly devoted to you. Don’t you, Jack?”
“I do.” He paused, eyeing Shawn. “I wonder if my son does.”
Shawn didn’t respond, not with words anyway. But he gazed at me for several long seconds, perhaps attempting to discern exactly what had transpired between Jack and me. Or maybe he sensed that his father knew something he didn’t—that my emotions were genuinely growing deeper. That my fondness for him was real.
Whatever he decided, he pulled me closer into him and nuzzled his cheek against my head. He’d promised his actions in public would all be for the benefit of our audience, but this one felt different. Almost like he wanted to believe our relationship was real, too.