Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)

by Faleena Hopkins

“What are you doing?”

  “Enjoying a glass of wine and a fire.”

  He hisses through his teeth. “Oh, that sounds good.”

  “Jealous?”

  His voice is deeper as he says, “Very. I wish I were there.”

  “Come over.”

  He chuckles, “Can’t. Hannah just fell asleep.”

  “Did she cry tonight?”

  “No, just looked sad. One of her better nights.”

  As a spark flies out and extinguishes mid-air, I bring my wine glass to my lips. “Sorry I had to go. Needed to put some things together for my dad.”

  Justin’s sexy voice sobers up. “Almost the election.”

  “How are you doing with that?”

  “Good,” he lies.

  “Do you want me to call you out?”

  “No,” he exhales. “Let me pretend I’m fine with it.”

  “Okay.” More sparks crackle as a piece of charred wood breaks off from the rest. “You want me to come stay the night?”

  There’s a long pause and I start to climb off the couch in anticipation of a yes.

  “No, I need to catch up on some things. Now that I’ve got my desk in the main room, it’s staring at me. Giving me shit for not paying attention to it since a child took over my life.”

  I relax back onto the couch and tuck my feet under me. “Good, I didn’t feel like driving anyway.”

  He laughs. “Oh really? You didn’t want to come?”

  “Nope. Was just doing it for you,” I smile.

  “Who’s lying now, Jaimie? Okay, have a good night. I’ll call you later tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Go be productive for once.”

  “My secretary says she doesn’t remember what I look like.”

  “Good night Justin,” I whisper, picturing him staring out at the city like he so often does during calls.

  “Night gorgeous.”

  The phone goes dead and I hold it to my heart.

  Justin

  Nervously washing my hands for the millionth time as the late morning sunlight streams through my windows, I call out, “Hannah? Did you brush your teeth?”

  The air conditioning is on since it’s about to become hot in here. I’m already sweating and it has nothing to do with the temperature.

  Everything’s spotless and ready.

  I’ve got napkins out but that’s it.

  I don’t have enough plates and glasses to handle an event like this, but I was assured it would all be taken care of by someone who knows how to throw a party way better than I do.

  I nixed the idea for one of our infamous Cocker Family BBQ’s because I didn’t want to overwhelm Hannah with all the chaos at the home I grew up in. New environment and all those people? Emotional overload. An informal brunch here at the home she’s becoming familiar with is much easier for her little head to take.

  A knock on the door makes me jump in my skin. Hannah pokes her head out of the bathroom and I wave her over. She doesn’t move fast enough so I shout to the door, “Coming!” and run to grab her. She laughs as I spin her around — it’s become a thing with us. Putting her on my hip and kissing the side of her head I whisper, “Now don’t freak out. Most of the people you’re about to meet you’ve been talking on my phone to already, okay?”

  “Okay,” Hannah says.

  I think I’m scaring her because I’m so nervous.

  The door knocks again.

  I shout, “I said HANG ON!” and turn to see her gazing at me with her finger heading for her nose. “No, don’t pick that. In fact, never pick that in public. In the bathroom, when you’re alone, you can do it all day long, okay?” She nods, finger floating away. “You ready to meet my family? I mean, sorry, our family.”

  She looks at the door as Mom calls through, “Justin, these are heavy!”

  “Shit! Sorry! Coming!” Hannah’s fine hair blows back in the wind as I rush to swing the door open. Their eyes land on Hannah and Mom almost drops a large fruit salad bowl to grab my daughter. “Hold on, Mom!” She hesitates, while Dad’s face is pure shock.

  “Justin, she looks just like you did when you were five!”

  Dad hoarsely whispers over the lump in his throat, “It’s uncanny.”

  “Hannah, these are my parents, so they’re your grandparents, just like Grandma Claire is. Remember you talked to them on the phone?”

  She nods, shyly staring.

  “Can I hold you?” Mom whispers with so much desperate need that I feel bad for her because I know the answer won’t be yes that easily.

  Hannah burrows into my neck. I place a protective hand on the back of her head and say, “Give it time.”

  Mom nods and Dad looks like he wants to console his wife but his hands are full with paper bags. “We’ll just start unwrapping everything. I think we’re a bit stunned.”

  “It’s okay. Go ahead.”

  The elevator doors open revealing Jake, Drew, and Emma, with infant Ethan in Drew’s arms. Emma’s holding Jake’s hand and she’s wobbling. She’s like three now I think. Who the fuck knows how old she is, I don’t know – but Hannah finds her very interesting. Jake stares at my daughter and shakes his head to me. “Wow.” He offers an amazed grin. “Hi Hannah. I’m Jake. The one who told you about Emma? Remember? This is her. And this is my wife, Drew. That’s Ethan, but he’s too little to talk. He just lies there.”

  “Jake!” Drew laughs. “Hi Hannah. It’s very nice to meet you!”

  Mom calls from the kitchen, “Isn’t it amazing how much she looks like Justin did? You’ve seen the photos, Drew! Isn’t it incredible.”

  I’ve gotta love her for not adding Jason into that comparison. When you’re a twin people rarely give you a separate identity. Mom always has. Maybe that’s why he and I are so different, and have become our own men.

  Dad greets them as he unwraps thick paper plates and real silverware. “Jake. Drew. How are you?”

  “Good, Michael,” Drew says. “Paper plates?”

  Mom nods, “Biodegradable.”

  “Ah,” Drew smiles. “Well that makes more sense.”

  I left my front door open and through it booms Jaxson. “Hello hello hello!” Rachel follows him in, with baby Ben sleeping in her arms. She and Jax freeze upon sight of Hannah.

  “Oh my God, she’s beautiful,” Rachel breathes.

  My oldest brother keeps shaking his head, emerald green eyes on fire with amazement. “Seeing her on T.V. is very different from seeing her in person. Damn, well nice to meet you Hannah. I’m Jaxson. This is my wife, Rachel. Ben’s been drugged, sorry.”

  Mom calls out, “Jaxson! That’s not a funny joke.”

  “Yeah it is,” he smirks. To Hannah, “I told you I have a ranch when we talked on the phone. Remember the cows you listened to? That was me.”

  She nods and a smile appears on her face for the first time. “Hi,” she whispers, waving.

  Everyone makes noises like they just saw the first fireworks on Fourth of July. I’m grinning ear-to-ear. “She really wants to see those cows.”

  “And the chickens,” Hannah smiles, starting to enjoy the attention.

  Dad laughs, “Kids and chickens…they love ‘em.”

  “We brought fresh eggs like you asked,” Rachel offers, motioning to Jaxson to bring them inside. “And cheese from our farm.”

  Mom lights up. “Oh, how exciting! I love fresh cheese. Did you bring milk?”

  “Of course, but cheese is far more exciting to my wife,” Jaxson smirks, placing his bags down.

  The elevator doors opens again and Jeremy walks out with Jason and his pregnant wife. “Look who we found!” Jason calls out, his arm flung around our youngest, brooding brother.

  Jeremy’s expression is subdued until he sees Hannah and comes to life. “Hey there, green eyed girl! I’m Jeremy. Do you remember talking to me?”

  She shakes her head.

  When Emma was a little over a year old Jeremy returned from his service. He was happy to see everyone agai
n, having only come home for short visits with much time between them. But as the sheen of returning home wore off, he became more distant. We can only ever get him on the phone.

  Mom and Dad have been worried, and I see hope in their eyes as he greets Hannah with such a big smile, reminiscent of how he used to be.

  I suggest to him, “Give her a clue.”

  He thinks about it as everyone watches him, the room silent. He’s unaware of it but we’re all hoping she remembers him because we don’t want to see that smile go away again. “Um…what did we talk about that you would remember? Oh! I told you I have a dog. He barked for you, remember that?”

  She reaches out for him. His face contorts with emotion and shock as he looks at me and takes her from my arms. Everyone’s mouths are open. He hugs her, and she whispers, “Aslan.”

  A huge grin spreads on Jeremy. “That’s right! His name is Aslan. What a great memory, Hannah!”

  Choked up, I tell them all, “Her mom read her Chronicles of Narnia.”

  “Oh,” several whisper, the room quieted by the tragedy that, in an awful way, has made this event possible.

  Mom, an experienced hostess I knew I could rely on, brightens up with a forced smile. “Jake, why don’t you turn on some music?”

  “Right,” he mutters, heading for my remote. “I wish Jett had been able to come.”

  Mom waves it away, wanting to bring the mood back up. “He said the next time he’s even five hundred miles away he’d make a special trip.”

  Irritated as always by the subject of Jett and his biker lifestyle, Dad shoves his hands in his pockets. “Grams wanted to come but she’s got a cold and didn’t want any of the kids to be exposed.”

  “Can I hold her now?” Mom asks, coming over.

  Hannah reaches for me again, which makes Mom squish her mouth up. Blinking a moment, she says, “I’ve got an idea! Hannah, do you like Mickey Mouse?”

  From my hip now, my daughter nods.

  “I’m going to make you Mickey Mouse pancakes!” She runs over to start cracking eggs while she hums.

  “Gotta hand it to you, Mom, you’re a problem solver,” Jason laughs.

  The morning continues with everyone sharing stories about what’s going on in their lives right now. The wives hole up on the couch and swap stories of morning sickness, with Drew and Rachel both giving Jason’s wife tips.

  Dad grills me about what I’m going to do until the next election comes. I’m more than happy to tell him, and we get into a heavy debate because, while we’re both Republicans, Dad is much more conservative than I am. I’m liberal on many counts, and he hates it, but who the fuck cares? Difference of belief is what this country is built on and debates such as these create conversations that both parties need to have.

  Jake, Jeremy, and Jason scarf up most of the food, being the fucking garbage disposals that they are. Especially my twin. I swear that guy could eat Montana and still be reaching for my plate.

  Jaxson spends a lot of his time holding Ben for Hannah to stare at and touch. She’s in love with Jaxson’s son and he gazes at her like she’s magic, too. Emma is at the age where she’s a pain in the ass. She wants to put my remote control in her mouth, as well as anything else she can find.

  Mom makes pancakes that win Hannah over and while she doesn’t let her pick her up, Hannah hugs her and that brings tears to Mom’s eyes.

  She mouths to me, “I love her already.”

  With a forkful of eggs in one hand and toast in the other, Jason asks over the noise, “Hey Justin, where’s Jaimie?”

  Like dominoes in a gust of wind, my family stops talking and all eyes land on me. Even Hannah’s.

  Clearing my throat I blink to the floor. “At home I guess. I don’t know.”

  Jason’s lips go tight. People exchange glances. Hannah is staring at me with those big eyes of hers that see fucking everything.

  “What?” I half-chuckle, trying to mask my discomfort. “Why’d everyone stop talking?”

  Justin

  Mom blinks back to the pan with pursed lips and flips over two perfectly browned pancakes shaped like the famous mouse’s head.

  Dad glances around and asks, “Who’s Jaimie?”

  Jaxson rats me out. “The woman friend Justin has spent every day with since this happened.”

  “Jaimie Rothdale,” Jason smirks.

  Dad’s head whips around. “Senator Rothdale’s girl?”

  “Well, she’s more woman than girl, Dad,” Jason smirks. “Ask Justin.”

  “I don’t like you,” I mutter to my twin.

  “Has she been helping you, Justin?” Mom asks, eyes wary.

  “She’s been his life raft,” Jeremy mutters, dark eyes locked on me.

  “We’re friends. Everyone give it a rest.” Glancing to Jake I snap, “You want to say something, too?”

  He shrugs, “Nope. Doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what it means.”

  “Fuck you guys!” I growl, heading for my room. “I’m going to the bathroom. Would you all like to come in and tell me how to do that, too?” I slam the door and pace alone in my bedroom, feeling my heart pound so hard I feel it in the back of my knees.

  A rap on the door sounds and I almost shout a whole slew of cuss words, but bite my tongue. Jason pokes his head in. “You don’t have a gun on you, right?”

  “Ha ha,” I dryly mutter.

  He closes the door behind him and crosses his arms. “What’s up?”

  “I’m sick of this family being so damn tight! Can’t move without someone up my ass about it.”

  “Uh huh,” he nods, chewing on his lips. “You want your old life back? Is that it?”

  I reel on him. “No! I wouldn’t give Hannah up for anything. I just want everyone to back the fuck off.”

  “Uh huh,” he repeats, eyeing me.

  “What, Jason? What’s that face for?”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t like my face? It’s your face, too.”

  Smiling through my anger I shake my head. “Stop it. I can see you judging the fuck out of me. I’m not like you. Okay? I don’t want marriage and the whole thing. This happened.” I point out to the main room where my daughter is. “And I’m handling it. No, I’m not just handling it, I’m happy about it, and I wished I’d known about it sooner. But that’s where it ends. I don’t need a wife.”

  “Uh huh.” He shrugs. “The thing is, Justin, if you didn’t care about her, you wouldn’t be fighting it this much.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  “Is it? Picture this scenario.” He fans his hands out mid-air like framing a movie still. “We’re out there, everyone having a good time. I ask where Jaimie is. Everyone gets quiet.”

  “That’s what happened.”

  “I’m not finished. And then…wait for it…you say, simply and without emotion or dodging us or looking at the floor — I’m not into her. And then we all go back to our brunch, because that’s what normal Justin would say.” He crosses his arms. “But instead you blew up like a kid and had a temper tantrum.”

  Rubbing my face I groan, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay, fine. Come back out and grow the fuck up. Thanks for listening. Oh, and I love you.” He winks at me and goes to leave, but I grab his arm.

  “How do I get back out there?”

  We stare at each other.

  Jason offers, “We could switch clothes and I’ll take the heat.”

  A grin springs onto my face. “Let’s do that.”

  Throwing an arm around him we both go out as is, in our own clothes. But I know he would have switched with me, and that means a lot. Just like in the old days. God, that one trip of his to Yale. We had so much fun.

  Our family is pretty much back to normal, but conversations pause as we appear. Nobody’s going to hold onto the drama I just caused, except Mom’s soft brown eyes are watching me with a curiosi
ty that won’t quit. Hannah is in her arms and as I walk over she says, “Well, at least one good thing came out of that. Look who came running to me?”

  Hannah reaches for me. Such a relief. Walking away for privacy, I tell her, “Hey, I’m sorry about that.” She’s staring ahead, no expression on her face. She does this when she’s trying to understand something, kind of goes into herself. “Hannah, you know how you get upset sometimes?” Her eyes meet mine. “That’s what just happened to me. Adults get angry, too. You hadn’t seen me mad before, so I hope I didn’t scare you.” Her head burrows into my neck. “Hey, I’m sorry if I did. I’ll be more careful.”

  Glancing away, my gaze falls on Jeremy. He’s frowning at me, hands in his pockets. He walks over and in a low volume asks, “How do you do it?”

  “This?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m learning. And screwing up a lot, as you just witnessed. You worried about you?”

  He nods once. “Everyone’s got one. I guess I’m the last to go.” As he walks away from me, haunted, I quietly call him back to us.

  “Jeremy.” He turns and I hold his eyes with meaning. “If you ever want to talk.” He nods, but he isn’t interested and is already dismissing the idea, so I offer up someone else who I think might help. “Call Jett.”

  Dark chocolate eyes narrow as he returns to me, his hand reaching out to pet Hannah’s head. She’s still tucked into my chest. “Why him?”

  “Jett’s done some things you’ve done.”

  He stares at me with a look that asks, You mean murder?

  Keeping my choice of words vague for my daughter’s benefit, I quietly explain so I don’t piss off Dad, “His motorcycle club helps people, but let’s just say they do it by way of non-traditional methods. I can see you’re haunted, Jeremy. He could help you find peace with what you had to do out there. What you were trained to do. Nobody laughs more than Jett and he should laugh the least.”

  Jeremy gives me a crooked smile of acknowledgment. “That’s true. He doesn’t hold back on the laughter, does he?” His dark eyes go distant as he thinks about it. “Maybe I will. Thanks.” To Hannah, he cranes around to see her face. “You want to come see Aslan sometime?”