“Can’t yank it off, can ya?” I ask her with an evil laugh. My eyes meet hers and for a brief moment, she smiles. Her little hands yank at her boot again and the smile vanishes. “That’s right. Dad knows how to tie that shit. Ask your sister.”
Her little face gets impossibly redder as she glares at me, shakes her chubby little fists and then opens her mouth. I regret taunting her immediately. She’s screaming and crying. Fat tears fall from her eyes and cover her cheeks. Even in tears and wailing at full volume, Charlie is the fucking awesome. It’d been so long since Chey was a baby I’d forgotten what it was like to have a baby in the house. I love my kids and all, but shit. Thankfully, she’s finally old enough that I can start to do shit with her and her personality is becoming really pronounced.
“Good job,” Holly says. “You just had to piss her off.”
“Just wait, Sweets,” I say as I pull the SUV into the parking garage and find an empty spot. “Few months, it’s gonna be even. No more unfairly ganging up on me.”
Climbing out, I round the back of the vehicle quickly. Charlie is still wailing in the backseat like her world has ended. Sweets gets pissed if I don’t get to her quick enough these days. Fucking temperamental. No wonder our daughter is so prone to throwing temper tantrums. Holly’s door is open, and she’s facing me when I walk up. Sliding forward to the edge of the seat, she finds her footing on the side running board. She takes my hands and lets me shoulder the burden of the extra weight as she steps down. Her rounded belly bumps my gut as she finds her footing.
“Careful with this thing,” I say and place my hands on her stretched flesh just inches above where my son rests. I won’t officially meet him for another few months, but I’m already planning on us leveling the playing field. Leaning in, I give her a quick kiss and a wink. Holly’s hormones are all over the place these days–even so much as a wink can set her off, and do I ever enjoy the rewards when they set her in the right direction.
I retrieve Charlie from her car seat and expertly get her stroller out with my free hand. She quiets her screaming, but kicks against my side. Now I know Chey was not this difficult as a baby. I can only hope that Charlie’s teen years are less dramatic than Chey’s were. There’s a learning curve and it takes some maneuvering, but now that I’m used to having a baby in the house again, I’m like a fucking superhero. I can do just about anything with one hand and three hours sleep. Good thing, too, because when baby James is born, I know I’m going to be functioning on a lot less.
Holly grabs the diaper bag from the floorboard and shuts the door behind me as I stick the scream queen into her stroller. She grabs at the handles and pushes her way through the crowded parking garage. I let out a frustrated breath and shake my head. Jim should have been here today. Asshole. Everybody else made it. Just about. Obviously Chief couldn’t make it.
We take the elevator to the lobby of the hotel. Right when we step off, a large sign directs us to the grand ballroom where graduation’s being held. I couldn’t be more proud of my girl today. She’s graduating from culinary school with a degree that specializes in desserts and shit. It’s been two long years that she’s been here in the Bay Area. Even if she does make it home every chance she gets, it’s just not enough. She was a great kid and a fun teenager, but now? She’s incredible.
She only has one flaw.
He’s six-foot-three with brown hair and navy blue eyes. He’s a fucking asshole who gets worse with every passing day and the cut he wears only enables that behavior. I’m proud to call him my brother, but fuck if I don’t want to call him my son. And he’s standing in the doorway to the ballroom wearing dark blue jeans, a gray short-sleeve shirt that shows his tattoos, and his Forsaken cut. He’s started to grow out a goatee, but it’s not much yet. The shit he’s done for the club reminds me that he is man enough to care for my girl. I’m just bitter about the fact that she’s old enough to have a man who’s not me care for her.
She loves him.
It’s been rocky, and he’s fucked up in ways that—I think—entitle me to take him out.
But she loves him.
“Deep breaths, baby,” Holly says from up ahead. “Either that or your brain is going to explode.”
Baby Boy gives me a nod as he bends down to poke Charlie in her belly. She lets out a loud laugh and kicks her feet. Even she likes him. Traitor.
“Grady,” he says. “Can we talk?”
No.
“Yeah,” I say. Holly looks back real quick, but then turns around and keeps walking into the ballroom. There are rows and rows of chairs in front of a small, elevated stage. If Baby Boy is here, then the rest of the hooligans must be here as well.
We walk down the hall and out onto the street. He flexes his jaw a few times and blows out a breath. He’s nervous. Good. Asshole.
“Wanna do it right this time,” he says.
Prick.
“She’s pissed,” I say.
He nods his head and says, “I know.”