I clamped my mouth shut and looked down at her. Doing my best to be stern and not laugh as I said, “I did, sweetheart. But you shouldn’t.”
“Why not? Roman say shit. Mama say shit, too. Luke say fuck though.”
I bit my lip. He did say fuck—a lot. “Yeah, Heath does say…um…that word. But, again, you shouldn’t.”
She blinked. “Can I have cake?”
If it would distract her from saying shit and fuck before I had to carry her in to meet her kinda-sorta grandparents and her aunt, who we had not told about her yet, she could have whatever the hell she wanted.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, heading back to the house.
As we got closer to Roman and the rest of the security guys, their conversation grew louder.
Tessa’s eyes flashed wide, and her little body tensed when a DEA agent boomed, “They were on the list!”
“What fucking list?” Roman barked back, his face turning red and a scary vein on his forehead twitching.
Ethan rounded the corner and planted a hand on his chest just as another DEA agent shoved his way out the door to join the argument.
“And, now, we’re all here! I hope someone rolled out the fucking red carpet for Noir before leaving your stations,” Roman snarled.
I frowned and made a mental note to lose my damn mind on every single one of them, including Roman, for having this argument in front of Tessa. But that would have to wait until later, when she wasn’t scared and clinging to my neck.
Rushing past them, I made my way into the house and then slid the door shut behind them.
“It’s okay,” I whispered in her ear. “They’re just talking.”
“Uhhh,” Kristen drawled. “What in the hell is going on?” Her surprised gaze flashed between me and Tessa then out to the glass door, where her little brother was shoving his finger in the chest of an armed federal officer.
“Well…” I started only to trail off.
I’d need to write an entire book to explain how we’d gotten to this point, which was precisely why we hadn’t told any of them yet. Neither of us knew what the hell to say. We’d been waiting on the DNA confirmation before dragging anyone else into this mess. Only, now, the mess was even bigger.
“So this is Tessa,” I introduced, but that was as far as I got before I realized I’d probably have to write two books.
Suddenly, Heath came barreling down the stairs in nothing but a pair of jeans, his gun drawn, his hair disheveled, claw marks covering his chest.
“Don’t move!” he yelled.
Rome barked a surprised curse and spread his arms wide, protectively shielding Cathy and Kristen.
“No. No. No!” I yelled, rushing toward Heath. “We’re fine! Everyone’s fine!”
His gaze swung around the room, but he never lowered his weapon as he growled, “What the hell is going on?”
“Luke!” Tessa cried, popping her head up and wiggling in my arms to get to him.
“Please. Put the gun down.” I begged. “This is Roman’s family. We weren’t expecting them, and Roman’s upset because one of the guys let them in. That’s all. Nothing’s going on.”
And then I decided it would take at least three books to explain this to the Leblancs as Clare came running down the stairs in absolutely nothing except Heath’s T-shirt, shouting, “Tessa!”
Of course in response, Tessa yelled, “Mama!” and struggled even harder.
Heath scanned the room one last time before reluctantly tucking his gun into the back of his jeans.
My shoulders sagged in relief, though I wasn’t quite sure I’d ever get my heart to slow.
“Come here, sweet girl,” Heath cooed to Tessa.
I’d barely put her on her feet before she was sprinting into his arms.
He scooped her up, gave her a quick once-over, flashed her a wide grin, and then handed her off to a notably frazzled—and equally disheveled—Clare.
He glanced around the room and then ran a hand through his hair as he extended the other in Rome’s direction announcing, “Heath Light.” Casual, as if he’d just bumped into him at the grocery store on a fucking Tuesday afternoon.
“Rome Leblanc,” he mumbled, cautiously taking Heath’s proffered hand.
How was this my life?
“I need more wine,” I declared.
“I could do wine,” Cathy called out.
Kristen kept her eyes leveled on Heath’s naked chest as she said, “I hope you’ve got a vineyard.”
I didn’t. But I’d give Roman’s assistant, Seth, a call.
“Clare?” I questioned.
She peeked around Heath. “Um…I should…probably get dressed.”
“Right. Well, I’ll have a glass ready if you change your mind.”
I didn’t waste a single second longer before heading for the wine.