Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 53

๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙BROOKE ˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑

HE'S HERE.

Ryder: I'm on my way. I'll kick him out if you say the word.

Ani : No one's doing a thing. Brooke has this handled right?

Andria : I'm with Ry on this one much to my dismay

Lucille: I'm a little late to this family party. Umm what's going on again?

Ani : You didn't tell her?

Ryder: There was nothing to tell

Andria : That's cold even for you asshole

Lucille : Tell me what? What didn't you tell me...asshole?

Ani : Ry *sad emoji*

Ryder : I thought he'd leave after what I told him

Lucille : He who?

WHAT EXACTLY DID YOU TELL HIM because he's in my house, in my daughter's room.

Andria : The jig's up. Clay is in LA, Luce and by the looks of it, he's back to stay?

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Showing up on her doorstep with toys for her daughter was one thing but demanding to see Mia sleep was something that doused her moods in flames.

Why? Because she allowed him to.

Why? Because he looked like he wouldn't leave even after she said no.

She placed her phone on the counter letting the messages from the family chat go on and on till they all got exhausted.

She should have started making breakfast but once she sat down in one of her kitchen stools her iPad in hand there was no damn way she was allowing Clay Cervantes to bond with her daughter alone.

The bastard looked good even on the screen and the irritating thing was maybe he knew.

Maybe he knew what he was doing showing up with a black bomber style ripped leather jacket, a white tee that might have been painted on his broad chest, those cargo pants that had no right filling up with his big thighs and those dastardly heavy boots by her welcome mat.

He was more ripped than before. Like he had spent all his days working out rather than signing documents.

Gone were his soft masculine features and the suits that her pussy went gaga for and in it's wake were hard rugged features that blended with the color black.

He had scars too. On his neck. And that was good.

Those scars were to remind her he wasn't the same man she loved. That he had changed without her.

Come to think of it, it wouldn't sound far fetched that he got those scars from a woman's claws.

Clay scooted near Mia's bed, his big palm on her cheek wiping non-existent wisps of hair.

Mia, still asleep, took Clay's hand in hers tugging at it the way she did one of her dolls.

"Traitor", Brooke grunted watching Clay's expression on the screen.

The expression of 'he had won the Indy 500 and there was no greater high than that'.

Tempted, hurt a little bit by Mia clutching Clay's hand like she needed it, she pressed a button against the screen not necessarily caring that it wasn't right to eavesdrop.

"Yeah I thought so too. You might have my looks but you are like her in every form. She snores too, you know? Isn't quite a morning person either.

Tell you the truth though I was surprised to see her up at seven a.m. She's changed and I'm guessing it has to do with you kiddo and that's... that's not a bad thing right?