Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  Shane decided it was cool so he uses it too.

  Boys.

  These two are ridiculous. Absolutely out of their minds. Shane is fourteen, but almost two inches taller than his sister. He has dark brown hair and blue eyes like his father. The only thing he got from me is his IQ. Shane is a ladies man through and through. I can’t think about you how many girls call his cell phone because if I did, it would make me want to scream and lock him inside a cage.

  Liam had a long talk with him about girls, which I’m sure included a bunch of that’s-my-boy type crap, but when it comes to Aara? Forget it.

  That girl is lucky he doesn’t have her stashed in an ivory tower somewhere.

  “The plan is we teach the jackoff coming to take my daughter to prom how we roll around here.”

  “And how do we roll, babe?” I ask.

  “SEAL style.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” I mutter under my breath and leave the room.

  I head upstairs, looking at the photos that line the wall. Time goes by so fast. I feel as though it was just yesterday that Liam and I fell in love. I remember how he made me smile when all I wanted was to cry, how he cared for me when I was enduring the loss of Aaron, and just how precious our love is.

  I see the photo of Aarabelle from when she was just about two years old. In it, she’s sitting on Liam’s shoulders as they chase the geese at the park. Our wedding picture, taken at a moment when not even God himself could have convinced me that one day I would love him more. A picture from the day we brought Shane home from the hospital.

  It’s all there in little permanent memories.

  Now we have teenagers who make me question my life choices.

  “Mom,” Aara calls from the bathroom.

  “I’m here.” I push through the door, and she turns to smile at me.

  “Can you help me with this dress? I can’t get the zipper up.”

  Aarabelle is truly beautiful. And I don’t just think that because I’m her mother. She really is naturally gorgeous.

  I’m sure the years of dance have helped with her figure, but the girl doesn’t wear makeup and is still stunning. She got my blonde hair and Aaron’s eyes. She’s a perfect mix of her parents.

  I slide the zipper up for her and then adjust the skirt. I don’t know when dresses started to become two pieces, but she was adamant this is what she was wearing.

  “All done,” I say as I touch her shoulder. “You look gorgeous.”

  She smiles in the mirror. “I wish Dad could be here.”

  “I know.”

  There isn’t much to say to comfort her. Sometimes things just don’t work the way we want them to, and when it comes to Aaron, no truer words apply. Life is ever-changing, and she learned that at an early age.

  “Did you talk to Athair?” she asks. “About being nice to Chase and not totally embarrassing me?”

  Oh, I talked to him all right, but it didn’t go the way she would’ve liked. He went on and on about punk teenagers and how it’s his job and right as a father to scare them from his daughter.

  “I did, but Aara, you know how he is . . .”

  She sighs. “Yeah, protective and crazy.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Can’t you . . . I don’t know . . . threaten to beat him or something?”

  “I did, but he’s not exactly known for listening to me.”

  Aarabelle groans. “Well, maybe he’ll at least try not to embarrass me.”

  That’s funny. There’s not a chance in hell he’s going to do that, but we can at least hope he doesn’t scare her date off. “I wouldn’t count on it, honey. This is the first time you’re bringing your boyfriend around, I would expect loads of hell.”

  “I can’t bring boys around here because I have my idiot brother and Athair!”

  I wish I could completely sympathize with her, but it isn’t something I’m complaining about either.

  Now for the awkward conversation that must happen.

  “Aara, can you sit?”

  “Sure,” she draws out.

  “Listen, it’s prom night, and I know that sometimes you get a little rowdy.” I pause when her face scrunches.

  Believe me, kid, I don’t want to talk about this either.

  “Mom,” Aara puts her hand up, “if you’re talking about sex, gross and no way because Chase is just a friend, for the millionth time. If you’re worried about drinking, don’t be. I’m not stupid.”

  “No, but you’re a teenager.”

  She’s a good girl by all counts. Aarabelle is honor roll, top in her class, and a very accomplished dancer.

  Her life is ballet and nothing will stop her.

  “I’m not having sex, Mom!”

  “You damn well better not be,” Liam bellows from behind me, making her cringe.

  “Well, I’m not. He’s a friend—again, not my boyfriend. You guys are so weird!”

  “Whatever, Chase William Leighton has a clean driving record, is currently on the honor roll, and lives in Baylake Pines—I have his exact address here in case you’re home late.” Liam hold up a sheet of paper for emphasis. “His parents are Katy and Josh, and he has a younger sister.”

  “Oh, my God!” Aarabelle yells. “Are you insane? You had him investigated?”

  She has no idea the lengths this man will go to ensure her safety. Liam gives me a look because he’s taking the heat for this one. He wasn’t the one who had Chase’s information checked, it was me.

  I trust Aarabelle, but working for a security company has its perks sometimes.

  “Of course we did,” he says unapologetically.

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “Believe it, princess. A father will do just about anything for his kids.” Liam steps into the room and looks at her dress. “Where’s the rest of it?” he asks, waving his hand up and down.

  “At the store.” The sarcasm is thick as she rolls her eyes at him.

  “Funny, go back and get one that’s not missing material.”

  “Dear God,” I mutter to the ceiling.

  “It’s fine, Athair. It’s a dress. All the girls have them just like this.”

  Liam rubs the bridge of his nose. “You look beautiful, princess. Truly. You also aren’t leaving in that.”

  “Mom!” Aarabelle spins to face me as if expecting me to stick up for her. I told her he wouldn’t approve of it, but she wouldn’t budge.

  Having kids is so much fun.

  “Don’t cry to her, I’m not letting you out of the house in half a dress. Your stomach is showing, Aarabelle!”

  Hadn’t I told her he would say that?

  Yes. Yes I did.

  Overprotective and Liam should be synonymous. She’s his little girl that still climbs on his back, runs into his arms when he gets home from work, and wants him to teach her how to shoot.

  He doesn’t get that none of that is reality anymore.

  “I’m not changing. This is more than my bikini I wear on the beach.” Her lip trembles.

  I see the tears threaten to form and step in. “You’ve helped raise her into a beautiful girl, you have to let her shine. She’s wearing the dress, put your macho crap away and knock it off.”

  “She can shine wearing a sea bag.”

  “Liam.” I sigh.

  “Natalie.”

  I turn to Aarabelle. “Finish getting ready, and we’ll meet you downstairs. You don’t worry about him.” Then I shove my husband out the door. When we’re far enough away that I know she won’t hear me, I shove his chest. “Really?”

  “What?”

  “Are you nuts?”

  He raises his brow. “Only about you.”

  “Don’t be cute, Liam.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He makes it so hard to stay mad at him. “She spent hours searching for the perfect dress. She needs you not to be a lunatic father for once and be the man I know you are.”

  Liam smirks and taps my nose. “You’re giving me more credit t
han I deserve. I am a lunatic father, and that boy is going to shit himself when he comes here. Accept that, and we’ll be much happier.”

  I really pray Aarabelle doesn’t put Exlax in his brownies next time she bakes, but if she does, I won’t blame her.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I ask rhetorically.

  “I can think of a few things . . .”

  “I bet you can.” I giggle as my hands glide up his strong arms.

  “If I behave, will you be naughty later tonight?”

  I’m bartering him sex for not acting like a dumbass. The things we do for our kids. Who am I kidding? This really only benefits me.

  “I guess you’ll have to see.”

  “Don’t tease me, woman.”

  I sigh and press my lips to his. “I thought you liked a little teasing.”

  Liam pushes our bodies back so he has complete control. I feel him harden as he moves so he’s at that perfect spot. “I think it’s you that likes to be teased.”

  “Gross,” Shane says as he gets to the top of the stairs. “Seriously, you guys are ridiculous.”

  Liam shrugs. “Cover your eyes then.”

  Shane shakes his head. “I need bleach and some kind of memory eraser.”

  “That can be arranged,” Liam tosses back as I try to shove him away. “Where are you going?”

  “Downstairs.” I try to move, but it’s pointless. He has me right where he wants me, and he’s ten times stronger than I am.

  The doorbell rings, and he groans. “I really have to be nice to this tool?”

  “For Aara.”

  “Fine.”

  We trudge down the stairs with Liam grumbling about locking her in her room until she’s thirty. When I open the door, I’m a little shocked to find that it isn’t her date.

  “Douchecanoe!” Mark yells as he steps inside. “I brought reinforcements.”

  Sure enough, in walks Jackson, Quinn, and Ben—the new guy. Ben is heading up the protection detail side of the company, and he might be the only person in the company who scares me a little. The guy is huge, and I don’t know that he knows how to smile, except when he looks at Gretchen . . .

  Which is definitely the reason that Liam had him come.

  “What the hell are you clowns doing here?” I ask. “No one told you to be here.”

  “Liam invited us,” Mark informs me.

  “Well, this is me telling you to leave.” I hold the door open and point outside.

  There is no way this is going to go over well. If Aarabelle sees that her uncles came to join the party, she might lose it.

  Mark laughs. “Not this time, Sparkles.”

  “Jackson?” I plead since he’s the most reasonable of this lot.

  “I have girls, this is par for the course,” he says with a shrug. “I expect the same courtesy. This is what we do.”

  “Your funeral,” I say. “Aara is not going to like this.”

  Jackson grins. “That’s the point. We know what boys think, we were those boys, we want to hunt those boys down and beat them if they have those thoughts about our girls.”

  As if they didn’t break hearts as adults. Please. I’ve had ringside seats to their circus for most of my life.

  Right on cue, Aarabelle comes down the stairs. The look of horror on her face is almost comical. “No, no, no, no way! No! You have half the SEAL team here?”

  “I protect my family,” Liam explains as he pops the top off his beer.

  “No one in the world has this much insanity in their family!” Aara screeches.

  “I swear,” I warn them all in a harsh whisper, “that if you ruin this day for my daughter, I will make each one of you pay for it . . . got me?”

  They may be big bad former SEALs, but I’m not afraid of any of them. Plus, their wives will ensure it continues far past the rain I bring.

  “We’re just going to scare him a little,” Quinn says. “This is the fun part of what we do.”

  “If she sheds one tear”—I point around the room—“dead.”

  “Isn’t she cute when she gets all mama bear?” Liam says and I level him with a stare.

  “You really shouldn’t test me.”

  “Sweetheart, that’s all I live for.” He smirks and leans back.

  There’s no point in continuing the conversation. I know that he knows better than to really try his hand about this.

  Satisfied that they won’t do anything stupid, I head in the kitchen as the group of guys talk about sports and deployments. Aara comes in, typing on her phone.

  “I’m going to meet him there,” she says.

  “Aara.”

  “No way am I going to let him show up here with them in the living room. Uncle Mark is going to . . . I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Your family just loves you. They protect what they care about.” I try to explain their craziness.

  “Yeah, well, they’re nuts.”

  “Yeah, they are.”

  I push her phone down from her face and tilt her chin up. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “And you look beautiful.”

  She smiles. “I look like you did when you went to prom with Dad.”

  God that feels like forever ago, well, it was. I wore a deep plum-colored dress with my hair down, and Aarabelle is doing the same.

  “Well, you look much prettier than I did.”

  “Your date is here!” One of the guys yells from the living room.

  “Please help me,” she gives me one last plea.

  Oh, honey, if only I could.

  We exit the kitchen, and I swear that I don’t even know what alternate universe I just stepped into.

  How long were we in there?

  Clearly long enough for the guys to change into full gear and paint their faces as if they were on some mission in Afghanistan instead of shooting the shit in my living room.

  “Liam Dempsey!” I yell as he hoists his gun over his shoulder. “Are you on drugs?”

  “It’s not loaded.”

  “Not the point!”

  “I’m just introducing the kid to what it’s going to be like to date my daughter.” He grins through the face paint, and I could get lost in those blue eyes I’d know anywhere.

  Then I remember I’m pissed at him.

  “Come on in, son,” Jackson’s voice is booming as he pulls the boy inside.

  Aarabelle marches through them, pushing their chests so she can get there. “Don’t listen to any of them, Chase. They’re all . . . dead to me.”

  The kid looks like he could shit himself. I sort of feel bad for him.

  Shane comes running down the stairs to watch the shit show. “Hey, Chase.” He grins. “Remember what we talked about . . . this isn’t even half of it.”

  “You’re so stupid.” Aarabelle sneers at her brother. “Go away.”

  “You can say that to me, but what about Athair?”

  Her face pales as Liam walks over, wipes his brow with his sleeve, smearing the paint. “So, you like my daughter?”

  “Ye-yes, sir,” Chase stutters.

  “Do you think you’re good enough to go out with her?” Mark steps in.

  He looks over at the tallest of the men crowding my living room. “Yes, sir.”

  “So you think you’re better than Aara?” Liam takes a step closer.

  “No, no, sir. I just mean . . .”

  Jackson clears his throat. “He just means that Aarabelle is good, but not as good as he is.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Chase tries to clarify.

  “So, wait, you’re good enough for her, but she isn’t better than you?” Quinn asks as he slips a knife out of its sheath and acts as if he’s cleaning his nail.

  “I think Aarabelle is great,” Chase tries.

  “But not amazing?” Liam asks.

  There are no right answers here. No matter what he says, they’ll twist it.

  “Mom!” Aara looks at me for help.
>
  I’m always the one trying to keep these idiots out of trouble, but the mother in me is also enjoying this boy being aware that there are four very skilled men ready to protect her. It leads me to believe he will be on his best behavior.

  “Chase,” I smile warmly, “why don’t we head outside for some pictures?”

  She practically throws him out the door just to get away from the firing squad. When I get to the door, I turn and face them. “You guys are bad, but that was funny.”

  Liam steps forward, takes my face in his hands, and presses his lips to mine. “I’m having fun with this.”

  I roll my eyes. “It shows.”

  He kisses me again, surely getting green and black on my face.

  “All right, let’s line up for a photo!” Jackson says as I stand in the doorway laughing.

  “You can’t say it’s not a good photo,” Liam says as he leans against the doorframe with nothing but a towel on.

  “It’s ridiculous, but it’s a good one.”

  Aarabelle endured another twenty minutes of her father and uncles giving her hell before she was finally able to get into the limo.

  She sent both Liam and me a text with a photo from her phone.

  It has her on one end, Chase on the other, and the idiots in the middle. It’s really comical, but it’s also a sad reality of her dating life. She’ll always have these dopes in the middle of it if they have a say.

  I put the phone on the table beside me and climb up onto my knees. “You know . . . I thought it was really sexy seeing you in your gear again.”

  He smirks and steps toward the bed. “How sexy?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?” I bite my bottom lip and pretend to ponder. “An eight.”

  “Just an eight?” Liam asks as he reaches the bed.

  “I think I know what would bring it to a ten . . .” I lean closer, pull his towel free, and then toss it across the bed. “That for starters.”

  “I like the way you think,” he says and grabs my hips.

  Liam tosses me down onto the bed and pulls my shorts off. “Am I getting warmer?”