Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick, #8)

They were early because Tod and Stevie completely doted on Indy and Lee’s kids, Callum and Suki (never fear, that was just my niece’s nickname, used so we wouldn’t have confusion; my big bro and BFF named their daughter after me, which… was… righteous).

And Indy shouldn’t be surprised. Tod and Stevie took every opportunity to “pop by” or “come early” and usually ended up essentially kidnapping the kids until Indy had to call and beg them to bring them back (or Lee had to call and threaten them; Lee’s tactic worked better).

Unfazed, they kept doing it.

“Like they’ll care,” I replied. “Anyway, ask Tod to do your hair. He’d love that.”

“He’s already claimed Suki,” she said swiftly. “And I want the kids here today, and Tod’s got that look in his eye that says ice cream, mall, extreme spoiling and me with two children who don’t understand why everything he or she points at isn’t at their command.”

This was true. I’d witnessed it. Repeatedly.

“There are worse things,” I pointed out.

This got silence before a soft, “Yeah, there are.”

I grinned and said, “Cake.”

“Don’t forget,” she repeated.

“Cake and catfight if you keep saying that,” I returned.

“Whatever,” she muttered then, “Later.”

“Later, chickie,” I replied and we disconnected.

“So I take it we’re picking up the cake,” Ren asked, and I looked to him.

“Yeah,” I answered.

Katie threw another tater tot. Ren looked to his girl and poked her gently in her rounded belly.

“You’re supposed to eat them, baby,” he told her.

She giggled.

She also threw another one.

That was when I giggled.

Ren just smiled.

Then he leaned in and kissed his daughter.

After that, he leaned further and kissed me.

It was Sunday breakfast in bed at the Zano house.

Yeah.

You guessed it.

Righteous.

*

“Yo!”

That was Lee.

We were in the kitchen at Indy and his house: Lee, Indy, Tex, Nancy, Jet (with her latest son, Cesar, or son number three, attached to her hip), Eddie, Ada and me.

The Kevster and Leo, Stella’s bassist, were wandering through, heading toward the back door.

Lee was scowling at Leo and Kevin.

“What?” The Kevster asked.

“Keep it in your pocket or give it to me,” Lee ordered.

“What?” The Kevster repeated, trying to look innocent.

And failing.

“You say ‘what’ one more time, I’ll pat you down, confiscate it and it’ll be in the garbage disposal,” Lee warned.

Kevin gave up the ghost and cried, “But it’s a party!”

“You don’t smoke that shit at my house,” Lee informed him.

“We weren’t gonna,” The Kevster replied. “We were gonna smoke it in your backyard.”

I could swear I heard Lee growl.

“Kevin, just abstain, all right?” Indy waded in.

The Kevster looked at Indy then looked at Leo. “You’re famous, right?” he asked.

“Yup,” Leo answered, and he was.

The Blue Moon Gypsies had hit the big time. Totally. Red carpets. Their frequent brawls splashed all over the tabloids. Pong even had a sex tape that was still circulating the internet.

Totally rock ‘n’ roll.

“So, do you have, like, a limo or something?” Kevin asked.

“We ride around in Escalades,” Leo shared. “That doesn’t say rock ‘n’ roll. But they’re roomy.”

“Do you have one here?” Kevin asked.

“Yup,” Leo answered.

“Let’s go,” The Kevster said, and they switched directions but got only a couple of steps in before Ada was there.

“Are you two young men going to smoke a doobie?” she asked.

Leo just stared at her.

The Kevster tipped his head to the side and hedged, “Maybe.”

“I’ve never smoked marijuana,” she informed them excitedly, her meaning clear to everybody. Including Kevin and Leo, who were unclear about most everything.

“Jesus. Someone shoot me,” Lee muttered.

“Live large, mama,” Leo said to Ada, an invitation coupled with an arm going out, leading the way.

Ada sent a happy grin to Nancy and shuffled out, followed by one famous and one infamous pothead.

I shared a smile with Indy and Jet before I looked to Tex because he was booming.

“I was wrong,” he stated. “Shit never gets boring. It just gets more and more freaky.”

He was not wrong.

“And just now, that old woman gettin’ stoned with the stoner to end all stoners and a rock star, just plain crazy,” he went on.

He was not wrong about that, either.

And Tex, being all kinds of crazy calling something crazy, said a lot.

But we were used to crazy.

And, none of us, not a single one (okay, maybe the Hot Bunch were exempted), would have it any other way.

“You have chocolate crumbs in your beard, honey,” Nancy told him, lifting a hand and brushing away crumbs and Tex (yes, Tex) let her. “And what’s that?” she asked. “Caramel?”

“Loopy Loo’s brownies,” he shared.

“Tex, you’re not supposed to eat anything until the special guests arrive,” Indy snapped.

His brows shot up. “Woman, you think I’m gonna wait for a brownie?”

“Yes,” Indy answered.

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