Page 81 of Off Limits Daddies
His grip is firm, bordering on aggressive. "Marcus Rosemond. I'm Mia's ex-boyfriend. And the man who helped raise her sons."
The emphasis on "her sons" is deliberate, a claim of territory. I resist the urge to point out that helping raise someone's children for a few years doesn't make them yours. Ironic, though, coming from me, who is currently taking care of three kids that aren't biologically mine.
Marcus's smile widens. "They're good boys. I miss them. We had a real family dynamic going, the four of us."
Mia's hand finds mine, her fingers cold despite the warm afternoon. "Marcus, we've talked about this. That's in the past."
"So you say." The smile doesn't leave his face. It's confident, as if he has all the time in the world because he knows he'll get Mia in the end. The competitive sportsman in me straightens with the unsaid threat.
"Just go, Marcus," Mia says, her voice shaking. "Please."
Marcus's gaze shifts to the playground, where the five children are still playing together, oblivious to the tension among the adults. His expression changes, becomes calculating.
He takes a step toward the playground, and my stomach drops. I know what he's about to do before he does it.
"Marcus, don't," Mia warns, but it's too late.
He walks closer to where the kids are playing, close enough that his voice will carry to the other parents scattered around the playground. Close enough to cause maximum damage.
Marcus looks directly at the twins playing with the other children and says loudly enough for nearby parents to hear, "It's so good to see my boys again after all this time."
33
MIA
I grab Marcus's arm and pull him away from the playground, away from Noah and the children. My fingers dig into his expensive designer jacket as anger floods through me.
"Stop," I hiss, keeping my voice low enough that the nearby parents can't hear. "Stop claiming them as yours. You know the truth."
Marcus's brown eyes flash with something dark. "I helped raise them for three years, Mia. That counts for something."
"It counts for nothing when you used it to control me." I release his arm and step back, creating distance between us. "Our relationship ended for good reasons. You don't get to waltz back into our lives and pretend you're their father."
"I was more of a father to them than whoever actually knocked you up." His voice turns cold, calculated. "Speaking of which, I've been wondering about that. You never did tell me who their real father is."
My stomach drops. "That's none of your business."
"Isn't it?" He moves closer, invading my space. His cologne is expensive and suffocating. "I think people would be very interested to know the truth. Your parents, for instance. Or maybe the school board at that fancy academy where you work."
The threat hangs between us like a blade. How the hell does he know who the father is? And then it dawns on me. The dinner at my parents'. He must have noticed the resemblance between Jack and the twins. My eyes narrow on him."You wouldn't."
"Give me another chance and I won't have to." His hand finds my elbow, his grip firm. "We were good together, Mia. We can be again. The boys need stability. A father figure."
I yank my arm free. "They need honesty. Something you've never been capable of."
Marcus's jaw tightens. "You're making a mistake. I'm the one who stayed. I'm the one who was there when the twins were babies, when you had nothing."
"And you never let me forget it." My voice shakes with suppressed rage. "Every kindness came with strings attached. Every bit of help was leverage you used to control my choices, my friends, my life. I won't go back to that cage."
"It wasn't a cage. It was a family."
"It was suffocating." I glance back at the playground where Noah is pushing Sophie on the swing while Rory and Corey play with the other children. "Now leave us alone, Marcus. I mean it."
His expression shifts, becomes something harder. "You'll regret this."
He walks away, his confident stride never faltering. I watch him disappear into the parking lot, my hands shaking withadrenaline. He doesn't want me. Not really. He wants the me he used to be able to control.
Noah appears beside me, his green eyes concerned behind his glasses. "Everything okay?"
