by Cat Mason
“Is your superpower disappointing those who love you?” I ask, pushing by him. “Oh, no. Of course not,” I scold myself. “That would make you a monster.”
Chapter Thirteen
Federal Ninjas
Mack
After carrying Ireland to bed last night, I jumped right into action. With the better part of an hour wasted going through the three files of prospects Henry had to replace Jared, I was ready to throw something. These people were quickly passed on months ago when he chose Mike and Jared.
When it comes to our team, we aren’t going to settle.
After an intense negotiation, and the added promise of taking on Ireland myself, I have Jared agreeing to pack a bag for the last leg of the tour. I celebrated by checking in over the phone with Big Man at the hospital, before grabbing a workout in the gym.
By the time the sun was coming up, I was running on the last of my adrenaline fumes. Knowing the day was just getting started, and it would be time to run the kid to school soon, I decided to close my eyes for five minutes after I got out of the shower to re-charge.
That’s where everything went wrong.
I don’t know how much longer than five minutes I had been out, but it was just long enough for all hell to break loose.
And for me to see that things I put on the backburners have started to boil over and make a mess.
Looking down at a devastated Jazzie has me feeling about an inch tall. There hasn’t been much time for me to process everything that has happened in the last eighteen hours, let alone begin to figure out how to explain it to her.
Though, any attempt made was going to be full of glitter, Happy Hut and cookies.
Lots and lots of cookies.
“Listen, man,” Hunter starts, lifting Jazz into his arms and standing to his feet. “I’m sorry. I swear I had no idea the kid went rogue like that.”
Peeking her eyes up from his shoulder, her teary browns hit me square in the gut. My fucking heart breaks at the sadness there. No matter how hard I try, I always disappoint and hurt the ones I care about most.
And I have never been able to handle a crying woman…
Nothing says guilt like watching tears leak from a female’s eyes. It’s a fate worse than death.
“Sorry,” she whimpers, her bottom lip quivering, shattering the last of my ability to be upset about the loss of the hair I have grown out since high school. “Please don’t be mad at me forever.”
“Come here, ya big buncha crazy.” Reaching out, I take her from Hunter’s arms. Instantly, her arms and legs wrap around me like some sort of monkey. Wrapping her up in my arms, I squeeze her tightly to me. “Forever is a long time to stay mad at my favorite girl. How about, after mommy gets you ready for school, I take you. You and me, we need to have a chat.”
“Can we get Starbucks?” she asks, her lip twitching.
I nod, silently promising her everything in the store, along with my soul, gift wrapped in one of those brown paper bags if she will smile at me right now. “But, no fun,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers. “No fun allowed.” Her grin peeks out, and a little giggle escapes. “That’s my girl.”
“Give us girls about fifteen minutes,” Chase says, when I place Jasmine on her feet, before they head out of the room.
“How did I not see this coming?” Hunter asks, shoving a dining room chair. “All I want is to give her everything I didn’t have. The kid didn’t have shit with the egg donor; thank fuck, a lot of it she doesn’t remember. Why in the hell does this parenting shit have to be so damn hard? Am I fucking up being a dad that much?”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I don’t think you’re fuckin’ anything up. Jazz loves you and Chase. It is hard as hell for her when that bus pulls out. She struggles. I’m also not sayin’ that I could ever replace you, because fuck knows, dude, I’m not even on the same playin’ field as daddy. Wasn’t much we could do to change you being there and her being here. It is what it is and that is hard for a kid to handle sometimes,” I shrug. “So, I did the only thing I knew to do to take her mind off it. We played. Stupid, silly, I didn’t give two shits as long as she was giggling instead of being sad. I dressed up in whatever she handed me, sang Disney karaoke at the top of my lungs, anything that girl wanted. The less Rae was able to do, the more I compensated, until there was very little time we weren’t together. I spoiled her, sure, but ask me if I care.”
“You stepped up,” Hunter says, nodding his head.
“Yeah,” I agree. I didn’t see it as that at the time. Hunter is a great dad and Jazzie worships the ground he walks on, but she took him leaving her here hard. She spent a lot of time sad and I refused to sit and let that happen. It was my mission, daily, to make that kid laugh and smile.
“Thank you,” he says, stepping up to me and clapping me on the back. “You don’t get serious gratitude from me very often, mostly because I like to bust your balls, but this is not lost on me.”
After letting everyone know I will be calling a meeting the moment I get back from taking Jasmine to school, I head down the hall to throw on the rest of my clothes and search for a hat to cover my mangled hair. Out of habit, I do a quick run through of the house before heading out to the car. The moment I step around the corner of the den, my eyes lock on the glass doors that lead to the back patio.
Ireland sits on the edge of the steps, her head in her hands. The rise and fall of her chest is steady until I see it hiccup.
She’s crying.
Shit.
“Boy, for someone who doesn’t like cryin’ women, Mack,” I grumble, shoving open the door and stepping out into the warm Tennessee sun. “You’re sure on a roll today.”
I step closer, but she doesn’t move. Either she doesn’t notice me, or doesn’t care. I’m not about to ask which though. Brushing the wetness from her cheeks, she stares out into the backyard. Her eyes are thoughtfully fixed on the big ass play set Hunter bought, immediately after Jasmine came to stay with us. The yard has quickly become filled with riding toys, playhouses, sandboxes, and anything else they spot on a website, or in a store. The goal always was to make this place, not just a refuge to hide away from the media and bullshit, but something magical for them to come home to and just be.
Nothing is perfect, by any means, but I think we have done a damn fine job of building something we all love coming home to.
“Does this hairstyle do it for you?” I ask, ripping the hat off my head, hoping to break the tension of the moment. “At first, I wasn’t sure about it, but I think it may be growin’ on me…”
“Go away, Dominick,” she says, keeping her eyes fixed on the yard.
“Can’t,” I reply, stepping closer. “We need to talk.”
Ireland sighs and wraps her arms around herself. “I just need to be alone,” she whispers almost so low I miss it.
“You hate being alone.”
“Maybe, but there’s one thing I hate more,” she fires back.
“Look, I know things are fast paced around here. A lot has happened in a really short span of time here and I’m tryin’, with all I got, to catch up. I also admit that we haven’t talked about some things that should’ve been priority, like fuckin’ you with my fingers in a parking garage,” I start, stepping closer to her and letting the word vomit fly since she hasn’t moved to kill or dismember me. Yet. “I’d like to do that again. Very much, actually. Maybe include my mouth, or even my cock, at a later date. Perhaps, when you don’t want to rip him from my body. Since this is the case, it’s important you know that, whatever I did to upset you, I am sorry. Very sorry.”
“Are you seriously trying to be funny right now?” I don’t even need to see her face to know she is rolling her eyes at me. “Or is that some kind of line?”
“Depends.” Sitting down beside her on the steps, I lay my head on her shoulder. Bending awkwardly, I stare up and bat my lashes. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I wasn’t mad,” she says, sounding defeated. “
It hurt.” Shifting away from me, she braces her hands on her thighs.
“What did?”
A stray tear falls from her face, landing on the back of her hand. My hand moves, covering hers immediately. The motion feeling as natural as breathing yet it sends a jolt of electricity through me.
“Looking into Jasmine’s heartbroken eyes and seeing someone I didn’t like.” She stiffens, her eyes going to our hands. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “What are you doing, Dominick?” she asks, her eyes meeting mine.
“It’s difficult to be this close to you and not touch you.”
The words surprise her, just as much as they do me, but I can’t say they aren’t true. Ever since I first met Ireland, I wanted her. I had to have her. Even if I knew it wouldn’t last.
The patio door opens behind us. I slam my eyes shut, not wanting the moment to be over. Not just yet. These little moments where she gives me pieces of the girl I once knew, mixed with the fire of the woman she is now are becoming like a drug to me. I crave the tenderness in her eyes, but long for the bite of that smart mouth. “There you are.” Pushing to my feet, I turn and open my eyes, spotting Chase as she steps out onto the patio. “She’s waiting by the door for you.”
“Kid has school,” I say when Ireland looks up at me curiously. “Wanna ride shotgun to the schoolhouse?”
“No, you go ahead. Though, I don’t think those two words are supposed to be used in the same sentence,” she replies, the edges of her lips quirking up in a smile. “There’s a group of federal ninjas, just out there hiding, ready to pounce on anyone who says certain phrases or search suspicious things on Google.”
“Noted,” I say, giving her a mock salute. “Beware the federal ninjas.”
Making my way through the house, I spot Jazz pacing in front of the door, swinging her purple lunch box in time with each step. “Ready to go?” I ask, grabbing my keys from the hook.
Scooping her up, I head out the door for my car. A little drive, a little chatter, and some hot cocoa and cake pops with the kid is exactly what we both need after this morning. Once I get back home, I’ll lay down the new plans, get my hair cut into something that doesn’t look like I let the Tasmanian devil hold the shears, after downing a case of Redbull, and lastly, do what I have been aching to do for longer than it’s acceptable for me to admit: figure out a way to get my hands on Ireland.
The vulnerability I saw in her eyes earlier takes me back to a time when things were very different. Back before she hated me. Even as a kid, it wasn’t hard for me to see that Ireland was searching for something. Getting her to let me in was a piece of cake, a piece of sweetness I feasted on like it was my last meal before the electric chair.
Problem is, with a last meal, you don’t get to go back for seconds…
And goddamn do I want seconds…
And thirds…
Chapter Fourteen
Laws of Intimidation
Ireland
Every conversation with Dominick leaves me more confused than the last. The moment I think I know what is going on, he opens his mouth and says something completely blindsiding. My issue is, as much as I want to believe he could be different, I hold my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I don’t know what to think about him being the one to go back on tour with the band, instead of Big Man. Yet another blindsiding call that I didn’t see coming, though I understand Henry wanting to be home with his girls completely.
Luckily, Dominick didn’t press when I declined his invitation to ride out with him to take Jazzie to school. After my mini-breakdown, followed by his need to dump a truckload of heavy on my already weighted down mood, I couldn’t go. As much as I would love to spend time with the kid, the ride back alone with Dominick would only end one way.
Naked and having very hot, extremely loud sex in some ridiculous place. As much pent up history as there is between us, there’s no way it will be any less than window shattering.
Sure, that sounds like a good time, in theory… But, I have no doubt it will leave a bad taste in my mouth.
Attempting to shut off my brain, determined not to let myself get lost in wondering exactly how he would taste in my mouth, I grab my notebook and head for the den. Aiden and Gray are sitting on a long couch, centered in the room, arguing over the remote control while Brannon plays at their feet with some big Tonka trucks.
Camaron is on the phone, scribbling in her planner while Daisy and Chase sit giggling and whispering, their faces both partially hidden by a pale blue laptop screen. “Isn’t a bit early still for you to be starting trouble?” I ask, taking a seat on the couch across from them, next to Camaron.
“Not starting trouble,” Chase sighs, her eyes peeking over the top of the laptop. “Just curing the sudden flash of baby fever with some online retail. Rae and Big man can’t name their baby after Supergirl and not expect us to trick her out with everything we can find,” she sighs. “There’s just nothing like the buzz of a new baby in the house…”
I never quite understood what made women completely lose their shit over the tiny socks and little blankets. As if those tiny little items that fill a section in nearly every department store on the planet are spiked with something set to evoke some crazy chemical imbalance in females making their ovaries start ticking like time bombs.
Not today, Satan.
Kids are great, but the last thing I plan to do is carry on the family genetics by popping out a couple living, breathing creatures that will rely on me for everything. Chalk it up to my stellar upbringing if the possibility of fucking up another human being because I couldn’t be there for them in all the ways they need doesn’t excite me enough to rip off my panties and start picking out names.
It just adds to my theory of: just because you have functioning reproductive parts, doesn’t necessarily mean you have what it takes to mold and shape the next generation. There should be a screening for this shit.
“Brannon!” Daisy yelps, jumping to her feet. “No.”
Turning my head, I catch the toddler walking toward the toy box. His jeans undone, his hand down the front of his diaper, and a big ass smile on his face.
“I don’t know what to do with him. It’s like he’s found a new toy or something,” Daisy says, sagging to the cushions, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “This morning, when I went to get him from the crib, he was naked. I find my sweet boy sprawled out on his back, one hand behind his head, the other on his--” She closes her eyes, shaking her head. Chase and I giggle, unable to help ourselves at the thought of this adorable boy getting caught fondling his bridge. “This is not funny, you guys! He was grinning. Grinning! He’s not even three yet. What the hell am I going to do when he hits puberty?”
“What does Grayson say?” Chase asks, forcing herself to be serious.
“He says it could be worse. Bran could be Hunter’s kid,” Gray interrupts, with a laugh. Grabbing Brannon, once he is within reach again, he buttons and zips his jeans back up before ruffling his shaggy black hair. “Poor kid would never take his hand off his junk.”
“Right?” I giggle, unable to help myself. “Could you imagine a little Hunter running around? Cute little kid, full of shit, double fisting bacon while tryin’ to peek up the girls’ skirts in preschool.”
“Shit, the kid would terrorize every female member of the nursing staff before he ever got latched to the tit,” Aiden teases, roaring with laughter. “Then, there’s always the possibility of twins.”
“Twins?” Chase gulps, her eyes widening as her face pales.
“Sure,” he nods, thoughtfully. “Our bastard father was supposedly a twin or some shit.”
Chase closes the computer screen, placing it on the coffee table between us. Tilting her head to the side, she stares ahead. Her mouth opening, only to close back again, reminding me of a fish. Do cases of baby fever often include awkwardly staring off in space while occasionally mimicking a fish out of water? I wonder if it would be rude to Google possible sym
ptoms of baby fever on my phone while her brain explodes.
You know, just in case it’s an epidemic.
“I told you there’s a church,” Hunter says, walking into the room. “Everything’s about bacon.” Holding his hand to his chest, his eyes drift shut as if trying to control his emotions. “It’s a slice of Heaven, right here on Earth.”
“Slice!” Aiden laughs, “I see what you did there.”
“Bacon is not a religion,” Dominick argues. “Sure, it’s good, but I can think of a few things I’d rather worship than some hacked up pig meat.” His eyes meet mine, and he winks.
My face heats, a blush spreading throughout my entire body. What in the hell is he doing?
“The only thing I firmly believe in giving praise to, with every inch of me, is my woman,” Hunter says, thrusting his hips. “This is no less important.”
“You realize, bro,” Aiden says, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “If a religious organization believes something is sacred, they rarely eat it or harm it in any way. So, if that church exists, the amount of bacon you eat could possibly make you their version of the devil.”
“Oh, Aiden,” Cam says beside me, ending her call. “Now you’ve done it.”
Diving onto the couch between Chase and Daisy, Hunter grabs the laptop. Raising the lid, he begins typing furiously, his eyes glued to the screen.
“Hail bacon, full of grease?” I laugh, “May the lard be with you always, my brother.”
Hunter looks up at me, his eyes completely serious. “And also with you.”
“If we can focus on something serious for a minute, there’s a lot of things changing between now and when we load the bus. I did actually have a reason for all of us to get together before the day gets crazy,” Dominick says, sitting on the arm of the couch beside Grayson. “With me unexpectedly taking on Henry’s place on tour, I wanted to take a minute and make sure everyone is on the same page. After talking things out with him, I’ve managed to get Jared back on board, with some minor alterations to the way things work. I will head up all the security issues on tour, but will also be the one in charge of Ireland, instead of Jared. After talking to Henry about his concerns, I have also gotten in touch with the label and have a driver for the bus. The last leg of the tour will run smoothly. I don’t want to give Big Man any reason to worry while he is takin’ care of things back here, so there will be as little change to the regularly scheduled programing as possible.”