F-Bomb (The Bear Bottom Guardians MC Book 9)
Page 14
She nodded. “These kids are sweet and nice. But all the other ones I come into contact with are literally hell on wheels. I’m not sure that I could handle their brand of excitement in more than three kids.”
“Your own are always more likable than other people’s,” I teased. “Though, these two are quite well-behaved. I’m not sure if that’s just because I’m their uncle and I think that they’re well-behaved or because they’re actually well-behaved.”
“Probably a little bit of both,” Izzy said as she once again joined the conversation. “I hate Oscar’s kids, though. At least, all of them but the oldest. They act exactly like him and Mama. I saw them at the grocery store yesterday and they actually turned their lip up at me.”
I growled low in my throat. “That’s because Oscar is a little kiss-ass and trains his kids to act exactly like him.”
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Harleigh said, glancing between the two of us.
Astrid leaned against her legs, knocking her off balance, and it was only the wall at her back that kept Harleigh from landing on her ass.
I grinned at her as Astrid leaned closer to her, practically wrapping herself around Harleigh’s legs, blanket and all.
“You’re just the sweetest thing ever,” Harleigh cooed to Astrid. “Because I was just thinking my legs were going to fall straight off me.”
I highly doubted that, but it was something I could definitely look into heating up for her later...
“Oh, thank God,” Izzy said, drawing my attention from the contemplation of wrapping Harleigh’s legs around my hips to Rome, who was running down the sidewalk toward us.
Which worked out because the security guard behind the desk taking the luggage said, “Next!”
“Shit,” Rome said, shaking his head and flinging water off of his hair. “It’s cold as fuck and it started to rain when I hit the corner there.”
For being an ex-football player and out of football for years now, he was still in incredible shape. I had no doubt that he’d just run from the parking lot all the way here.
More power to him.
I was more of a lifter. Cardio sucked balls, and I only did it on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I absolutely had to. There was no running for the fun of it.
I helped move the luggage with my feet, grinning when Rome had to do all the heavy lifting.
“You could help, fucker,” Rome grumbled as he got all the luggage behind the line where the security guard had indicated.
I pointed at the baby that was still snuggled deep into my jacket. “Sorry. I have a baby.”
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the gate that our plane would be departing from.
I was surprised to find Hoax and Pru, Bayou and Phoebe, as well as Linc and Conleigh.
I didn’t know the women all that well, but when Harleigh arrived holding Astrid, everyone was more than happy to see her.
Which made me happy.
I liked that she fit in amongst the women. I was still working on fitting in with the men.
One day it might happen, but I was still on the edge of the room looking in when it came to the group.
“Fuck, this flight is going to blow,” I said when I got a look at all the fuckin’ kids. Including the ones that were with the men and women of our party. “Are you sure I have to go?”
My sister looked at me with a grin on her face.
“It gets better,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I bought us matching shirts!”
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
“You’re shitting me,” I said. “I’m not wearing matching fuckin’ shirts.”
“Is that the same attitude you have when it comes to wearing the same cut as us?” Linc, one of the men I knew the least, asked.
I looked over at him, and then at Conleigh who slapped his arm with the back of her hand, before returning my gaze to him. “You got a problem?”
He eyed my bare back.
“Just noticing that you’re a part of this MC and you never show at any functions. You never bring anything to the table. You also don’t make an effort to get to know us or wear your cut delineating you as one of the MC.” Linc shrugged.
I stared at the man and said what was on my mind.
“I haven’t noticed you coming to Rome’s house,” I said. “But, in answer to why I never come to anything, I’m busy helping my grandmother at her bakery. When I’m not doing that, I’m working for Harleigh’s dad doing some private investigating. And when I’m not doing that, I’m enjoying not having to answer to anyone. Not having someone watch me take a shit. So, when you say ‘I don’t come to anything’ I mean it when I say ‘you can go fuck yourself.’”
Linc blinked.
Rome started to laugh.
Bayou sighed. “I told you to leave it alone, Linc.”
Linc grumbled something under his breath.
“I invited him to my kid’s birthday party last weekend, and he didn’t come. You invited him to a club party. He was asked to come to church. A club ride. I’m just not sure why you made him a member of the MC if he didn’t want to be in it.” Linc shrugged. “A man’s allowed to want to be his own man. It would’ve just been nice to see him before now. You know, when he’s getting a free vacation.”
Izzy growled.
“We had to force him to come,” Izzy snapped. “He didn’t come because he was getting a free vacation. He came because he loves me and he knew that it meant a lot to me that he be there. We’ve never been to Disney World before.”
I pulled my sister over to me and curved my arm around her shoulder.
“I’ll come to the next club party,” I said. “I’m sorry I missed your kid’s birthday. No, I don’t really want to be here, but I did bring a friend to help make the fact that I have to endure listening to y’all’s kids bearable.”
Harleigh snorted.
“Their kids aren’t bad,” she teased, holding Astrid close.
Astrid, who had Mickey Mouse ears on her head, turned quickly and smacked Harleigh in the face with one of the ears.
“You were saying?” I teased.
That was when the girl in my arms started to snuffle her displeasure.
“Your kid’s waking up,” I informed my sister.
Izzy promptly pulled a bottle out of the diaper bag she was still holding and handed it to me.
“This isn’t your boob milk, is it?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s boob milk.”
“Then you feed her,” I refused to take the bottle.
“Oh my God. You’re being ridiculous.” She snickered. “It’s only milk. It’s a normal bodily fluid.”
“But I don’t like being around any of your bodily fluids,” I said as I unzipped the jacket, exposing the baby I’d been concealing.
“Awww,” Conleigh said. “Look how small she looks in his arms. And I thought she looked tiny in Rome’s hands.”
I looked down at little Izzy Junior, better known as Allya, and grinned.
She did look mighty adorable.
She was dressed in a black sleeper with red polka dots. On the feet were tiny Minnie Mouses and bows.
It really was cute as hell, I had to admit.
The tutu that was around her waist was the best part, though.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Pru said as she held one of her sleeping twins in her arms. I couldn’t tell them apart and didn’t really care to try. Maybe when they got older and developed personalities that caused them to be different, then I’d consider trying, but for now, I was just going to go with ‘Hoax’ s kids’ and leave it at that. “Though when he held Dean last week when I came to the bakery, he looked tiny in his arms.”
“That’s what happens when you’re six foot ginormous,” Izzy said, forcing the bottle into my hands. “Take this. Astrid is doing the potty dance.”
I sighed and took the bottle, taking a seat next to Harleigh and popping the nipple into the now grunting
baby’s mouth.
“You’re sure you want two or three of these?” I asked casually.
Harleigh looked at me holding the baby and said, “As long as it’s with someone like you? Yes.”
My brows rose. “You’re thinking that you want to have my babies?”
Her mouth opened and closed, then she shook her head as her cheeks flushed. “Ummmm…as much as I want kids, I think we should probably give it at least another couple of dates before I decide whether or not I want to have your children.”
I pulled the bottle out of Allya’s mouth and propped her up on my shoulder. She burped before I could even get the first pat in.
Laying her back down softly into the crook of my arm, I went back to feeding her and talking to the woman beside me.
“I want kids.”
Chapter 13
If you think about it, the most popular prosthetic limb is the dildo.
-Things not to say to your mother
Harleigh
I looked at the man that just kept surprising me.
“You do?” I asked softly.
I would’ve thought he’d have been burned by what had happened with his ex, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
“I have always wanted at least four or five,” he admitted. “But then everything happened, and I got off track.”
I felt my stomach sink.
“You wanted that baby,” I said softly. “God, that must’ve killed you to find out it wasn’t yours.”
He shrugged, looking like it meant nothing when I could tell by his lack of words that it did.
“I’ll get them one day,” he admitted. “I’m not even forty yet. That’s still young, right?”
I nodded my head. “If you were female, I’d say you needed to get started now. But since you’re definitely male,” I teased, giving him a once over. “You don’t have to worry about the same things.”
“Definitely male,” he agreed. “What’s with that look you just gave me?”
I blinked innocently at him. “What look?”
“The one that clearly said you wanted to eat me alive,” he countered.
I sobered then. “Why’d you leave, let me leave, and not come see me?”
I was always quite direct.
My dad liked to say that I was his blunt child. The girl that always told the truth, even when it hurt to hear.
There was this one time in kindergarten that my dad loved to tell everyone about. Apparently when I was ‘meeting the class,’ my dad and mom had taken me in. I was supposed to tell my tablemate something nice that I liked about their drawing that they’d done while our parents were meeting with the teacher and going over what we would be learning that year. And apparently, in front of the entire class, I informed the kid that he had no drawing abilities whatsoever, and could really use some schooling to help him with his lack of skills.
My dad loved it.
My mom, not so much.
“Truthfully?” he asked quietly.
I nodded once, my eyes focused on the baby downing the bottle in his arms and not the man himself.
“Because I’m no good for you.” He shrugged. “I’m broken.”
I waited for him to say more, but that was all that he had to say, making my eyebrows rise in question.
“That’s it?” I asked, poking his side.
His brows lowered. “That’s not enough?”
I shook my head. “Not really, no. I was thinking something like you still loved your dead fiancée, or that you were sparing yourself the heartache. Something like that. Instead, you just say you’re broken?” I tilted sideways in my seat. “Let me ask you something, Slate. Are you broken? Or are you trying to keep yourself closed off because you feel what I’m feeling?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again before saying, “I…”
“You…” I let that linger there. And when he still didn’t tell me, I started to nudge him. “You what?”
“You’re right,” he said. “But that’s my prerogative, not wanting to get hurt again. I wish there was another, better reason, but there’s not. I’m just broken. There’s something fundamentally wrong inside of me. Each and every girlfriend I’ve ever had has broken up with me, cheated on me, or died. I don’t have good odds.”
“I don’t like that answer,” I said stubbornly. “In fact, that answer’s not good enough. You’re going to have to try.”
His lips twitched at my words. “Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know,” I countered. “You wouldn’t have invited me here if you didn’t feel something for me.”
“You’re crazy in your head if you…” He paused when both my phone and his phone rang at the same exact time.
Frowning, he reached into his pocket with his free hand, tucking the bottle underneath his chin as he continued to feed the baby.
I pulled my phone out and saw my father calling.
Frowning seeing as it was only now six in the morning, and my dad didn’t get up early anymore if he could help it, I placed it to my ear and said, “Dad?”
A deep, relieved sigh met my ears.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked softly.
I was really concerned now. My dad seemed to be gathering himself back together, as if something had shaken him apart.
“Dad, you’re scaring me,” I said. “Is Mom all right?”
“Yes,” Dad’s voice cracked. “Your mom and your brother are fine. Your house isn’t, though.”
“What?” I asked in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that somebody just firebombed your house,” he said. “I got the call from Dre, who was at work, who got the call from the police department. Apparently somebody threw a molotov cocktail through your front window, caught the couch on fire, and it burned the rest of the living room down. Luckily, the fire was contained to just your and Slate’s houses.”
My head whipped around to stare at Slate, who must’ve been getting the same news as me because he was staring blankly into space.
The baby was sucking on air, which caused me to reach down and prop it back into her mouth as I said, “Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine,” he answered. “But the weird thing is that all of the surveillance we have on your house and Craig’s was compromised. Some sort of jammer was used, and everything we got from about thirty minutes after you left until the police were called was a constant loop of about an hour time span.”
I shook my head. “Well…that obviously wasn’t something that was just done spur of the moment. That sounds planned. It also sounds like someone knew what they were doing.”
“There’s something else I have to tell you,” Dad murmured.
“What?” I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this bit of news.
“Roan was let out on bail last week,” Dad murmured. “He’s back home. At his mother’s house.”
I felt sick to my stomach.
“They gave him parole?” I asked with my voice slightly raised. “He wasn’t supposed to get that for two more years!”
Roan Forbes was the man that had nearly done some awful things to me—had done some awful things to me. Was still doing awful things to me.
Hell, I couldn’t even sleep in my own damn bed at night because of the things that were still eating at me.
Yet…somehow, I wasn’t as upset as I would’ve once been. And that was likely due to the man that was still looking mighty fucking pissed beside me.
“Was it him?” I asked quietly.
“We don’t know,” my dad said. “But talking to his mother, she says that he was at home all night. Something about being online all night long and never leaving.”
“How would she know that he hadn’t left?” I asked curiously.
“I asked that same question. Apparently he screams at the television. Something about him being extremely angry and loud last night,” Dad answered. “It’s good that you’re gone th
is week. I want to figure this out, and I’m happy to not have you here sleeping in your yard while I do it.”
I shivered slightly.
“I won’t be doing that anymore, I guess,” I admitted. “Not with Roan out.”
Dad made a sound in the back of his throat that was perilously close to a growl.
“I’ll handle it, baby,” he promised. “Don’t worry. In the meantime, let me talk to Slate.”
I looked over at Slate who was no longer on the phone.
At some point he’d taken over the bottle-feeding. He’d also likely heard every word we said, because he was reaching for the phone almost before I had it pulled away from my ear.
This time, instead of me holding the bottle, he took the bottle out of the sleeping baby’s mouth, set it on the couch beside us, then placed her back on his shoulder. When he had her situated, he placed the phone to his ear.
“What’s going on?” Izzy asked, arriving with a frown on her face.
“Someone torched my house after we left,” I answered, worry causing my voice to quiver. “Oh, and the man that assaulted me and almost did worse things to me before my roommate could interrupt him was also released from jail last week.”
“Was it him?” Rome asked, entering the conversation.
I shook my head. “My dad doesn’t think it was, but he’s covering all his bases. Roan has an airtight alibi, though. His mom said he was there playing Xbox until very late last night. So she knows that he was there when the fire started.”
Rome grumbled something under his breath. “Accident?”
I shook my head again, but before I could answer Slate said, “Not an accident. All of our security measures were disabled. Mine, Craig’s who is across the street from us, and Harleigh’s.”
“Are the houses okay?” Pru asked from her seat across the aisle.
“We are now boarding passengers for group one,” the woman behind the desk at our gate called. “Group one and all current military.”
All of us stood up at once as Slate said, “Harleigh’s is a partial loss. Mine’s just the garage.”
“What about the rest of the houses in your neighborhood?” Linc asked.