by Cara Dee
“That part doesn’t bother me.” I furrowed my brow. “I may not be able to understand it, but that’s because I didn’t stand a chance against…” Grace. “My point is, I respect her decision. I just hope she’s not suppressing anything.”
Selfishly, I thought of what that could mean for Grace and me, and I didn’t want any issues down the road. It’d have been one thing if Taylor had changed her mind during the pregnancy and suddenly wanted to be involved in Grace’s life, but that train had left the station now. So, I was battling that, all while being baffled by the fact that Taylor had actually succeeded in staying unattached.
Safe to say, my head was still fucked up.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Keira promised.
“Thank you.” I walked over to the coffeemaker and nodded at it in silent offering. I never knew with Keira. She wasn’t indifferent, unlike Taylor. Keira stayed an hour or so sometimes when she was dropping off Grace’s milk, and she had held her a few times too. At the same time, there was a loyalty to Taylor that held her back.
“Thanks, but I should go,” she answered. “We, um…have a buyer for the house.”
That was quick, albeit expected. Last week, she’d said there’d been a bidding war, so I’d played it safe and started weaning Grace off the breast milk. It was too soon, but I’d rather make it last longer by giving her supplemental formula for some meals.
“Got it.” I poured myself some coffee but set down my mug. I wasn’t really in the mood.
Keira took a couple steps toward the door but turned and hesitated. “Taylor said she’ll use the, um, pump until we leave, so I’ll be back in a couple days.”
I inclined my head. “Tell her I said thank you.”
“Will do.” She took a few more steps, only to huff and face me fully. “Look, can I email you or something? Or do I have to pick sides when this is over? I’d like… I mean… She’s supposed to be my niece.”
Her words melted away most of the tension, and I felt bad for playing even the smallest part in making her feel cast aside in this mess.
“Of course we can stay in touch, hon. You have my number, my email, you know where I live…”
She managed a small smile and nodded. “Good.”
“Good,” I echoed with the same smile.
The first time Grace smiled was on Christmas Eve. All the mad Quinns were gathered under the same roof, and once everyone was done gushing over my girl, I stole her away and trailed over to the Christmas tree.
I didn’t have one at home, but that was going to change next year. As soon as Grace saw all the lights and colorful ornaments, she lit up in awe and flashed a ridiculously cute grin when I made an ornament move.
She cooed and jerked in my arms, reaching for them. “Guh, guh!” it sounded like.
Cradling her firmly, I tilted her into a half-seated position on my arm and brought her closer.
“You like those, don’t you?” I grinned and spun one of the shimmering snowmen that hung on the tree.
Pipsqueak joined us with a smile of her own and touched Grace’s cheek. “What’s this crazy talk I hear about you not coming over tomorrow morning?”
I chuckled.
Figures. Mary must’ve gossiped and sent in the cavalry.
“I’d like to spend her first Christmas at home,” I admitted. While I didn’t have a big tree to mesmerize Grace with, I’d prepared the living room for a cozy morning. I’d even bought her a stocking, which I suspected she’d find more interesting to grab at than the actual contents.
Pipsqueak hummed as Grace gripped her finger. “Is this one of those times I should give you space?”
My brows knitted together. “Space?”
She shifted from foot to foot, and some hesitation flickered in her gaze. The green in her eyes was practically alive from the Christmas lights reflecting in them.
She was too busy making funny faces with Grace to answer, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Grace ate that right up. She was incredibly curious about lights and movements. She was alert and grabby. The latter could hurt sometimes. She’d pulled Pipsqueak’s hair more than once, and there was that time she’d dug her fingers into my mouth… Fun times.
I flicked a glance at Pipsqueak, but instead of looking away again, I just didn’t. It was the dead of winter, and she still had some summer freckles on her nose. Two dimples appeared whenever she smirked. Then she stuck out her tongue and let her fingers dance over Grace’s face, to which she squealed and jumped in my arms. I hadn’t noticed the slight curve that dipped into Pipsqueak’s upper lip. Because why the fuck would I? Christ.
I cleared my throat and refocused on Grace.
“The prettiest girl with the prettiest names.” Pipsqueak leaned in and nuzzled their noses together. “Yes, you are.”
“Dinner’s ready, everyone!” Mary hollered from the kitchen. Or the dining room, maybe.
“What kind of space?” I reminded Pipsqueak.
“Oh!” She grinned sheepishly, maybe because she’d gotten distracted by Grace. I couldn’t blame her. “Like, do you want to be alone with her, or could I maybe come over? I have gifts for both of you.”
Ah, that kind of space. I shook my head. “Come over whenever you want.”
I had something for her too.
Christmas Eve dinner at the Quinns’ was always a loud affair. Mary had timed it perfectly too, because Grace was napping in the guest room, so I could relax and join in on the festivities and dick around with my buddies. It was great to see Ryan; he didn’t visit often enough.
With a long table packed with food to the point where we barely saw the tablecloth underneath, Christmas music, and my favorite people, it was bound to be a fantastic evening.
“Did you share your news yet?” Darius asked Ryan. They were seated across from each other in the middle seats, and I was next to Ry, which wasn’t always a safe pick. Regardless of how they crawled closer to forty, everything within grasp was a weapon if necessary.
“What news?” Mary perked up.
Ryan sent Darius an unreadable—never mind, I could read it. It was anything but pleasant.
“This is gonna be good.” Lias had picked up on it too.
“Easy for you to say.” I frowned. “You’re not in the splash zone.”
“If you lean forward a little, you’ll protect me from the splash zone.” Pipsqueak batted her lashes.
I shot her a smirk. “Nah, it’s every man and woman for themselves in this bunch.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
I shoveled some turkey and gravy into my mouth and grabbed another roll.
Her huff was drowned out by the brothers’ commotion, but James put a stop to it eventually and ordered Ryan to share whatever news he had.
“It’s nothing huge,” Ryan defended. “I’ve met someone, all right? That’s it. I’ve met someone.”
“Oh, but that’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Mary exclaimed. “Tell us about her. Or him?”
Ethan snorted.
“It’s a her,” Ryan confirmed.
Darius was smirking wolfishly, so I knew that wasn’t the extent of it. “Tell them how old she is.”
“I swear to Christ!” Ryan threw a roll at his brother, who ducked and started laughing his ass off.
“Boys!” Mary warned. Next, she quirked a brow at Ryan. “Either she’s my age, or you’re robbing the cradle. Which is it, son? Otherwise, Darius wouldn’t be acting like a child right now.”
“What the fuck?” Darius scowled.
I shook my head, too amused. It was best to just stay out of it.
“It’s possible she’s on the young side,” Ryan admitted. “In my defense, she’s very mature for her age.”
Jesus, how bad could it be? Ryan was thirty-six, I was fairly certain. Yeah, because I remembered he was four years older than me. Darius was eleven months older than Ry, making them Irish twins.
“How young?” James pressed.
Ryan sighed and ran a hand through h
is hair. “She’s eighteen.”
“Holy shit,” Willow and I blurted out at the same time. The rest of the table was a mixed bag of shock and laughter.
Except for Pipsqueak, it seemed. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Thank you, hon,” Ryan said.
“Yeah,” Pipsqueak went on. “She’s legal, and Ryan’s mentally twelve.”
Fucking hell. I didn’t know who guffawed the loudest, Ethan, Darius, or me. That was too funny. And Ryan’s expression was priceless. He went from thank you for the support, little sister to a look of betrayal.
Man, I’d needed this night.
Eighteen
“I reckon it’s time we take you out and get you laid, Ave.”
“Hey. Young ears.” I pointed at Grace, who was squirming around on her back and chewing on her foot in her playpen.
Spring had finally arrived, and as soon as the weather had allowed it, I’d lured Darius over for beer and assistance to assemble my new lawn furniture. The new grill was in place, and I’d installed the retractable awning last year. Now I just needed to get rid of the plastic lawn furniture, and then I could host proper barbecues here.
Darius lifted a brow at Grace, then slid me a frown. “She’s five months old. Quit hiding behind your kid.”
I flipped the table on its side and reached for the next set of screws. “Last time ended with a baby and an STD screening. I think I’m good for a while.”
He let out a laugh.
I was serious, though. Women, even for the briefest of encounters, weren’t on my mind. I had my hands full with Grace and work.
“I don’t remember a time I got more than four consecutive hours of sleep a night,” I went on. “Last week, I picked Grace up an hour later than usual after work so I could nap in my car.”
As rough as it had been in the beginning to leave her at day care every morning, there was relief too. Grace screamed—a lot.
It’d made me realize I needed little breaks here and there where I could feel like an adult and not just a dad. It was why I wanted to get my patio ready for the summer now. Mary and Pipsqueak were always offering to babysit, so I figured a few Fridays and Saturdays this barbecue season, they would get to do just that. While I had some buddies over for beer and food.
“I’m surprised you didn’t have a heart attack at being away from her for a whole extra hour.”
I flipped him off and stepped back, surveying the table. I just needed to tighten the screws, and then it’d be done. But first, I walked over to Grace’s playpen, and her incoherent babbling turned all excited as I picked her up.
“Remind me why I invited Uncle Darius over if he’s just gonna be a dick.” I made kissing noises when she smushed my cheeks together.
That made her laugh.
“Oh, come on, it was funny,” Darius argued, amused. “Didn’t I warn you about this? You’d get ambitious about doing shit with your buddies, but then you’d bail because you can’t be away from her.”
It wasn’t that funny. And it’d just been one time. We’d made plans a couple months ago to try out a new burger place, but then Darius and Ethan had suggested a bar afterward. I hadn’t signed up for that.
“They’re just jealous because you’re Daddy’s best friend now.” I smooched Grace on her nose.
I grinned at her adorable rambling. She was so fucking animated about everything, and she had the most beautiful, expressive eyes. She’d inherited them from me, but I didn’t make hazel look that good. Her hair was growing out too, in little brown waves, another thing she’d inherited from me.
“Maybe you’ll see one day, Darius.” I loved to fuck with him.
He got so riled up whenever I hinted about him going down a similar path.
“Ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen,” he said.
I chuckled and then heard the door open inside. It was Pipsqueak, and I slid the patio door open farther.
“Look who it is, baby.” I pointed for Grace, who was mildly obsessed with Pipsqueak.
Grace was bouncing and reaching for her the second she laid eyes on Pipsqueak, who, for once, hadn’t come over with a bunch of chocolate-related items. The next festival was a little under four months away, and preparations were in full swing. This month, she was narrowing down the choices to put together a twenty-item menu.
“Hi, beautiful girl.” Pipsqueak beamed at Grace and took her into her arms.
I smiled at the two and noticed something was different with Pipsqueak. I’d seen her without makeup, which was most of the time, and I’d seen her in too-heavy makeup for when she was heading out with friends. I’d always preferred the former, though she was undeniably pretty now too. It was subtle. Mascara and whatever women put on their lips that only had some shine to it.
Pretty was the wrong word to describe Pipsqueak, though. She was growing up to become a beautiful young woman, and it was bittersweet to watch. The other day, I’d automatically called her Elise, and it’d been strange. She’d reacted too. We’d laughed it off, but it’d left me with a strange feeling.
“You here to take over the kitchen?” I wondered.
“Not today.” She kissed Grace’s forehead, then glanced around me at Darius. “I didn’t know he was gonna be here, though.”
“I love you too, baby girl.” Darius had obviously overheard her. “I remember a time you bounced up and down every time you saw me.”
“Aw, you poor thing,” Pipsqueak giggled. “For your information, I was trying to protect you. I don’t think you want to hear what I wanna ask Avery.”
I lifted my brows, admittedly intrigued.
Darius stood up, having finished another chair, and scoffed. “In what fucking universe are my ears more delicate than Wonderdaddy’s over here?”
I laughed. “All of them.” But that could only mean one thing. I glanced back at Pipsqueak, finding her smirking, though not without a certain degree of discomfort. Fucking hell. She was going to ask about boys or something like that.
It was prom season…
I knew she was going, because some little motherfucker had come over to my house to ask her. Mary had sent him this way when Pipsqueak hadn’t been home. I didn’t know what she saw in him. It was some pimply jock who looked at Pipsqueak like he was undressing her with his eyes.
Pipsqueak raised her chin and leveled Darius with a blank stare. “It’s about sex.”
Fuck my life.
Darius blinked before squinting and scratching his bicep. “Do you smell that?” He inched closer and took a whiff near Grace, to which I rolled my eyes and couldn’t believe he was going to ditch me here. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna change this little poop trooper’s diaper. You get started. I’ll join you later.”
“Seriously.” I stared incredulously as he took Grace and headed inside. “What the fuck!”
“You don’t want her to get a rash, do you?” he hollered back.
So, he was just going to chill out upstairs until he deemed it safe to return? I gave it five minutes until Grace did something that terrified him. Such as coo or grin.
“That was easy,” Pipsqueak said with a pleased smile.
I suppressed a sigh. “Go easy on me,” I told her, walking over to the new chairs. “Remember to keep it clinical. Use technical terms if you can.”
“I only have a question, actually.” She turned one of the chairs so we’d face each other better. “You’ll do most of the talking.”
That wasn’t exactly reassuring.
“All right. Hit me with it.”
She got comfortable in her chair and pulled her knees to her chest. “How do I seduce a man?”
Nope. Not that question. Anything but that. Those words did not just leave her mouth. I fucking refused.
“I’m gonna need my beer for this.” I sucked in a breath and bolted up. Unfortunately, my beer was only about six feet away on the side shelf attached to the grill. There was no escape. “How can—I mean… What makes you think you—fuck.” Frustration built up and
spilled over in a second, and I stopped to drain half my beer.
How did I respond to that? Fucking seriously.
This little chick turned eighteen in less than two months. Was she running around thinking about seduction?
It would’ve been easy to make an excuse and hide out with Darius upstairs. He had the privilege of doing that; I didn’t. She wasn’t my sister. I’d earned her trust and made her feel welcome in my home, and in return, she’d opened up to me. She confided in me. She spoke without filters.
It mattered more to me than she’d ever realize.
But I did wish she’d take the sex- and seduction-related shit to her mother and sister.
Pipsqueak waited patiently, her expression open and curious, and that kind of gave me the answer I needed. She was the most genuine, amazing young woman I knew. She didn’t need to know seduction. She didn’t need to go to any lengths to catch the eye of…well, too many guys. Because she was consistently herself. If she didn’t find you funny, she didn’t laugh. If she didn’t agree with you, she said so. And she was generous with honest compliments, because she felt that if she liked what someone did or something someone wore—whatever it could be—she wanted to tell them.
“You don’t have to seduce anyone, Pipsqueak.” I set down my bottle on the floorboards, then rested my elbows on my knees. “Any guy worth his salt will appreciate your honesty and loyalty more than a handful of cheap tricks. If you’re interested in someone, tell him. That’s what you do.”
“True,” she said, nodding pensively. “Thank you for your input, but I reject it. Tell me about these cheap tricks, please? I think I need to bring out the heavy artillery with this man. And it’s a man. Not some random guy in school.”
I chuckled and creased my forehead, both puzzled and amused. “Is he blind?” Then I replayed her words and furrowed my brow. “How old is this—”
“You know what,” she interrupted abruptly. “I went about this the wrong way. Let me rephrase. What are some regular, normal methods women might use to seduce a man? Are the magazines correct? Do I just show some extra skin and—”