This Man Confessed
Page 135

Or baby.
‘Where’s Maddie?’ I discreetly adjust my groin area before facing my baby boy, who’s oblivious to the goings on around him. It’s not unusual to see daddy loving mummy. I’ve had to seriously work on my control, though.
He doesn’t look up from my phone, but I can see his little face screw up in disgust. ‘She’s putting on her party dress. It’s all frilly. Nana bought it.’
My eyes roll, knowing that I’m going to find my baby girl looking like candyfloss has exploded all over her. ‘Why does your mother think my daughter needs to look like she’s been attacked with the pink stick?’ I sit myself next to Jacob and put the jar between us so he can help himself. And he does. His chubby little finger dives right in and scoops out the biggest dollop. My chest swells with pride, and I exhale around my own finger, looking back up to Ava for an answer.
Her eyebrows are high as she shakes her head at Jacob on a fond smile, but then her eyes are on me and she’s not smiling anymore. What did I do? ‘Don’t wind her up, Jesse.’
‘I won’t!’ I laugh. I bloody will, and I’ll enjoy every moment of it.
‘Nana calls you a menace.’ Jacob looks up at me, his finger still hanging from his mouth. ‘She said you always have been and always will be. She accepts it now.’ His little shoulders shrug.
A burst of laughter escapes and now Ava is laughing with me, her dreamy chocolate eyes sparkling, her succulent lips begging me to take them. Then she ditches the apron, revealing her tight, tidy little figure. I’m not laughing now. I’m panting and reaching under the table to try and bash myself down. It’s a constant fucking battle. ‘I like your dress.’ My eyes take a lazy jaunt down the length of her black fitted dress as I plan on how I’ll remove it later. I might be kind and let her wear it again, she really does look amazing in it, but by later, I know I won’t be in any fit state to take my time.
‘You like all of mummy’s dresses.’ Jacob pipes up tiredly, snapping my eyes from that body—the one that sends me insane with want.
‘I do.’ I agree, giving his messy mop of blonde a ruffle. ‘Speaking of dresses, I’m going to find your sister.’
‘Okay,’ he agrees, turning his attention back to my phone and re-dipping his finger.
I jump up and go in search of Maddie, taking the stairs two at a time and bursting into her pink infested room. ‘Where’s my birthday girl?’
‘Here!’ she squeals, appearing from her wendy house.
I nearly choke on thin air. ‘You are not wearing that, little lady!’
‘Yes, I am!’ She runs across the room when I start marching towards her. ‘Maddie!’ What the fucking hell? She’s five! Five fucking years old, and I’m already ripping hot pants and cropped t-shirts from her tiny body. Where the fuck is that frilly pink thing?
‘Mummy!’ she screams, as I catch her ankle on the bed. She can scream the fucking house down. She is NOT wearing that. ‘Mummy!’
‘Maddie, come here!’
‘No!’ She kicks me—the little sod kicks me and dashes out the room, leaving me a pathetic heap of stressed out daddy on her pink, fluffy bed. I’ve been outdone by a five year old little girl. But that little girl is the daughter of my beautiful wife. I’m fucked.
I stand and straighten myself out before going in pursuit. ‘Don’t run down the stairs, Maddie!’ I yell, practically throwing myself down them after her. I watch her tiny little hot panted arse disappear into the kitchen as she searches for the back-up of her mother.
I skid to a halt and watch her scrambling up Ava’s body. ‘What’s going on?’ Ava asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I might have.
‘Look at her!’ I wave my hands at my baby girl like a deranged screwball. ‘Look!’
Ava places her on the floor and crouches down, pushing my baby’s chocolate waves over her little shoulders and pulling the hem of that ridiculous t-shirt down. She can pull it down all she fucking likes. It’s not staying on my baby’s body. ‘Maddie,’ Ava’s gone into pacifying mode, something, perhaps, I should have thought about before blurting the death words. I should have learnt by now; don’t tell Maddie no. It’s rule number fucking one. ‘Daddy thinks your t-shirt is a little small.’
‘I do.’ I cut in, just for clarification. ‘Way too small.’
My little lady flips me a scowl. ‘He’s being unreasonable.’
I gasp and point an accusing glare at Ava. She has the decency to look apologetic. ‘See what you’ve done?’
‘Daddy has the power!’ Jacob sings, halting any chance I had of scoring a win.
It’s Ava who’s gasping now. ‘You need to remember, Ward. These little ears hear everything.’
I do the sensible thing and shut the fuck up. My wife can’t hide her exasperation, and I don’t expect her to. I expect her to remove that pathetic excuse of a t-shirt from my baby girl’s tiny body.
‘He can’t dictate my wardrobe!’ Maddie fires across the kitchen, her chubby arms folding across her little chest. I look at my defiant temptress, noting she’s failing to hide that fucking beautiful grin.
Fucking hell! My hands fly to my hair and yank. I’ll have none of the fucking stuff left soon, especially when Ava gets her hands on it. I momentarily forget my turmoil and smile, mentally feeling her tugging at it while I slam into that beautiful body. But I’m soon back to reality with my little lady drilling displeased brown eyes into me.
I watch as Ava reasons with her before grasping her little shoulders and turning her towards me. ‘Maddie is ready to compromise.’ Ava tilts her head with a humour her look.
It doesn’t make me feel any better. I’ve humoured Maddie before, and it resulted in me carting her out of Waitrose over my shoulder while she screamed the place down and kicked me to death. I look back to Ava with pleading eyes, pouting like an idiot, but she just shakes her head and gently urges my wilful little lady towards me.
She’s smiling at me now, her arms reaching up for me to take her. She melts my fucking heart but Jesus Christ, what the hell am I facing in the years to come? I’ll be bald or maybe even dead. Or I could be in prison because if any little fucker lays his hands on her, I’ll rip their fucking heart out. I scoop her up and leave Ava to help my easy going boy put his converse on.
‘Dad, you need to calm down. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.’ She snuggles into my neck and my raging, crazy love for my defiant little lady is fully restored. But my wife gets her forth retribution fuck of the day.
‘It’s daddy. And you need to stop listening to your mother.’ I take the stairs fast and burst into her room, throwing her on the bed. My heart bursts, listening to her squeal in delight before she jumps straight up and starts bouncing up and down, her long, chocolate locks flying all over the place. ‘Right,’ I rub my hands together in an attempt to make what I’m about to suggest exciting. Where will I find her jeans and jumpers? I pull her pink wardrobe doors open and start skimming through the rails, immediately laying my hands on something full and frilly. I pull it out and hold the hideous thing up. She mirrors my look of disgust. ‘Your nana needs to stop buying you dresses.’