The click of a lock has me stepping back, removing my finger from the doorbell, and dropping my arm to the side. The second the door opens, I take another step back, holding my breath.
I didn’t know what I expected her to look like, but an angel wasn’t it. Her hair is platinum-blonde, almost white as snow—and fucking natural. I can tell because she has no dark roots and has fair, pale skin. It falls to her shoulders, cut in choppy layers. It’s sexy as hell. She reminds me of a blonde Snow White, with her pale complexion and ruby-red lips.
Her eyes… Fuck, her eyes are ocean blue, so deep they sparkle. They stand out like a beacon. I’ve never seen eyes like that in my life.
She’s petite, with a small, slender waist, her white tank top showcasing firm, perky breasts. I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little too long.
Fuck, she isn’t wearing a bra.
My gaze rakes down her slender body, down to her legs, to the tiny shorts she’s wearing.
I snap out of it when she clicks her fingers in my face, and I look up to find her glaring at me. I shrug, trying to play it cool, when really, my body is screaming at me to hit on her.
She is so fucking hot.
“Can I help you?”
Even her voice sounds angelic, almost musical.
“Yeah,” I croak out, my voice gruff. I clear my throat, standing straighter. “I need you to tell the builders to come at a later time. I have a newborn baby who is trying to get to sleep, and you’ve woken her up. She needs her sleep. I don’t mind the noise in the day—I can take her somewhere else if it unsettles her that badly—but during the morning, could you keep it down?”
I want to slap myself for rambling. I’m more self-controlled around women than this. I sound like a fool.
“Can you repeat that for me, please? I didn’t get it all.”
I glare at her. I can’t help it; I’m tired. “Were you not listening?”
I notice her staring at my lips and fight back a grin. If I wasn’t holding my daughter, I’d have her shorts around her ankles and be balls deep inside her.
“I’m sorry. You’re talking too fast.”
This chick is crazy. Fed up and needing to get ready to meet the others soon, I turn to leave. “Tell the builders not to come in before eight. There’s no need to wake the neighbours up this early.”
“Wait! What did you say?” she calls out, but I ignore her, shaking my head.
All blondes are dumb. I should have known something as sweet-looking as her would have a fault somewhere.
I guess you can’t always have the full package.
*** *** ***
By the time I finished packing what I would need for a few hours, I left the apartment with half of Sunday’s belongings. I never knew a kid would need so much. I feel like I packed everything but the kitchen sink.
The Cheerio’s I left open on the side; the ones I didn’t get chance to eat because Sunday started crying.
Even the shower was a quick dunk, wash and out job. I was afraid to leave her too long on her own.
It was a nightmare. And trying to fit everything in the changing bag Mum had bought to match the pushchair was a joke. She needed a fucking suitcase, not a purse.
Three bags later, twenty minutes late, I was finally at Henry’s. I could see most of my family already inside, knowing the rest had to work.
“Hey, guys, I’m sorry I’m late,” I tell them, trying to juggle the door, three bags and a pushchair.
Landon steps up, taking the bags off me, while Charlotte holds the door. Mark and Lily get up to help me with the pushchair, and between the three of us, we manage to get her in safely. I push a chair out of the way, making room for her pushchair. I don’t want her too far away.
I nod my greeting to the rest, watching as Liam stuffs his face with bagels. Ashton is watching me with an amused expression.
“What?” I snap when he doesn’t stop staring.
“Nothing. Being a dad suits you.”
I glare at him before taking Sunday out of the pushchair, turning to my sister. “Lily, could you get a bottle out of her bag, please? I didn’t have chance to feed her before we left. She was asleep and I didn’t want to disturb her.”
She looks down at the bags Landon put down by me, frowning. “Um, are you taking washing to Mum’s or something?”
Puzzled, I shake my head. “No, why?”
“What’s with all the bags?” she asks softly.
“It’s Sunday’s stuff.”
“All of it?” she asks.
I nod my head grimly. “Yeah. She needed a change of clothes, and a spare in case something else happened, then another just in case. I packed the entire pack of nappies because this girl can poo. Then I had to bring spare bottles, the sterilisers in case I need to sterilise new bottles, and then her milk powder. I have the ones in the tiny containers already measured out, but in case I run out, I brought the whole tub. She has three extra dummies, though she doesn’t really like them—and I’m worried she’ll choke on one. Then there’s nappy bags, water wipes, cream in case she gets a rash, and three dozen bibs. They are a godsend,” I tell her.
She giggles at me before looking down at the bags. “Which bag is the bottle in?”
Rocking Sunday in my arms, I say, “It’s in the black one. Just mix the powder in the milk. I already measured it out.”
“I know how to make a bottle,” she tells me, giving me a soft smile. “You’re doing amazing.”
“Are you going to let us hold her today?”
I glance down the table at Charlotte, who is staring at my child in awe. “I will. Just let me feed her. I don’t want her to be hungry. Then you can all have a turn.”
She claps her hands excitedly, and I smile. “Oh, before I forget, I baked you a cake to congratulate you.”
The guys don’t bother to hide their snickers and I glare at them before smiling at Charlotte. There is no way I’m going to be the one to let her know her cooking sucks. I’d be surprised if the cake is even edible. I don’t even know how she manages to make something so terrible when I’ve given her recipe after recipe. But I can’t talk. I can make an okay dessert, but my talent is in food. I love to cook.
“Thank you, Charlotte.”
She beams at me, and I instantly feel bad that I’ll be throwing the damn cake away before it can harm my daughter.
And I’m not joking. The last cake she made, Jacob didn’t eat and instead left it on the side at home. He got into a fight with a friend of his from school and they ended up throwing the cake in a food fight. Both had an allergic reaction to it and ended up going to the hospital when they complained their skin burned.
Lily hands me the bottle, which is still room temperature. “Can you pass me a bib, too, please?”
“Here you go,” she says, handing it over.
Gently, I lift Sunday’s head and clip the buttons in place. “Shh, baby girl. Daddy’s got your bottle,” I coo down at her when she starts fussing. It stops as soon as the bottle touches her lips. She greedily guzzles it down, and I chuckle.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Landon, the quietest and meanest of our group, says—and I say meanest because no one on this earth would want to mess with him. He’s been known to knock people out with just a punch. No fucker messes with him.
I notice another bruise under his eye and want to question him. The girls and parents don’t know, but Landon fights illegally. They have the fights set up all around town in different abandoned warehouses or car parks. We told him months ago he needed to stop, that the level of violence the other fighters were demonstrating in order to win were getting out of hand. The only rule in the ring was that they couldn’t use weapons, anything else was a go. But for some, it didn’t matter, and many would slyly try to hit him with a set of brass knuckles, or a stick, or rock they picked up off the ground. The men running it didn’t seem to care, and it was getting out of control.
A group bursting through the door has the entire ta
ble looking up. I groan the minute I see who walks in.
The Hayes brothers and their little sister, Paisley.
Well, most of the Hayes brothers anyway. The twins are still finishing school, alongside Jacob, my uncle Myles and aunt Kayla’s son.
All of us, at one point, went to school with a Hayes. We’ve been somewhat friendly enemies for such a long time, none of us know what, exactly, started it, or how to behave around each other. My guess is that a girl was the reason the war began between us. We were always fighting, either over who had the biggest ego, a girl we fucked—or wanted to fuck first—or just because we could. It’s been a rivalry that has gotten us into trouble more than once with the police and our parents.
The only one I can stand is Paisley. She was in the same year at school as I was, and she’s nothing like her brothers. She’s forever got her head in a book, and she’s so shy she blushes whenever someone talks to her.
Harvey, the owner, groans from the counter. “Guys, you know the rules,” he yells.
We all smirk at the Hayes brothers when they spot us, their eyes narrowing. Jaxon, the eldest, who runs a moving company, steps towards the counter.
“Come on, Harvey, we just want breakfast. We’ve been up since six and haven’t eaten. And Paisley needs to eat,” Jaxon says, making Paisley blush.
That was another thing; the girl was forever being fussed over when it came to what she ate. They were always throwing food or drinks in front of her. When we were at school, they would go apeshit if someone stole any of it.
“No trouble, otherwise you’re paying for damages. I’ve barely finished paying for the last lot.”
Jaxon pulls out a wad of cash from his back pocket, but I look away when Reid, one of the triplet’s, grins over at us. The triplets are the same age as Hayden, Landon and Liam, but were a year above them at school. It caused fights to break out all the time, as both Reid and Landon had the same temper, although Reid wasn’t as moody as Landon. No one could be. The fucker only smiles when he’s with Charlotte.
“Who the fuck gave you a baby?”
I cover Sunday’s ears the best I can with one hand. “Watch your language in front of the baby,” I hiss, and his eyes go wide.
“Reid,” Paisley scolds quietly.
Wyatt, the second eldest, leans back against the empty table, nodding at me. “You’re losing your touch if someone got one of your females pregnant. No one is touching our sister.”
I glare at him. “She’s mine—not that it’s any of your business.”
Isaac starts laughing, slapping his other triplet, Luke, on the shoulder. “He’s shitting us.”
“And the mum let you have her? Unsupervised?” Luke asks, staring down in horror at Sunday.
I want to wipe the look off his face, but I’m not getting in a fight in front of Sunday. She’ll be traumatised for life.
“Probably fucked off when she realised Aiden was the father,” Alex says, laughing at his lame joke.
“Isaac, fuck off,” Landon drawls, leaning lazily in his chair.
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Reid growls, stepping up for his other two triplets.
“Don’t even think about it,” I growl, sounding deadly. “There’s a baby girl right here. I’m not gonna have you pussies fighting in front of her.”
Isaac laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day. I wonder how Laura will feel when she finds out,” he says, mentioning one of my fuck buddies. Not that I care about her. She just fills a need. “Might give her a go. Dunno yet. I’ll see how needy she is. Having been with you, she’s probably horny as fuck. I’m told you couldn’t satisfy her. Does the kid’s mum know you stick it anywhere?”
I stand up, passing Sunday to Lily, then the bottle, before moving forward. Jaxon steps in front of me, putting his hand on my chest, just as the sound of chairs being scraped back echo in the room. I know the others have my back.
“I said, watch your mouth around my daughter, otherwise I’ll make it so the doctors wire it shut,” I growl. “And in future, don’t mention her mum. She died giving birth. As for Laura, go ahead. You were always going after my seconds.”
“Not what she said a few months ago when she was kissing me and begging to suck my cock.”
Anger begins boiling within me at the language he’s using around my daughter. She might not understand it, but I do. I don’t want her around that shit.
A grin stretches across my face, a baring of gritted teeth. “How’d I taste?” I taunt.
He loses the cocky grin, stepping forward. I laugh, ready for him. I might not want to fight in front of my daughter, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna get my arse kicked in front of her either. No way am I having her think I can’t protect her.
“That’s enough, you two,” Jaxon snaps, pushing Isaac back. He glares at me before turning to his brothers. “Guys, you can get your food to go. I’m gonna make sure Paisley eats.”
“Can’t she do that herself? She’s not a little girl anymore,” Landon drawls, raking his eyes up and down her body.
The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone, including Paisley, who looks always, her face bright red. I want to slap him around the head myself. There’s one thing taunting these losers, but there’s another to mess with Paisley. The brothers are as protective of her as we are with the females in our family, if not more. Since she’s their only sister, she has it twice as bad.
“Keeps your eyes off my sister,” Wyatt snaps, blocking Paisley from view.
“Guys, go. Now,” Jaxon orders, his expression cold. They look torn for a few moments, before heading back to the counter to grab their sandwiches.
I don’t move until every one of them has left the shop. If it wasn’t for Sunday, I’d already be punching the living shit out of Isaac, because there was no way Jaxon Hayes would stop me.
I lift my arms out to take Sunday from Lily, but she pulls her closer to her chest. “You’ve had her for two nights with no sharing. I want to hold my niece.”
“She’s really yours?” Jaxon asks.
“She’s beautiful,” Paisley whispers.
I smile at Paisley. “She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s perfect.”
“Paisley, your order’s ready,” Harvey yells.
“Congratulations,” Jaxon says. “And I’m sorry about her mum.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t think being nice gets you out of Family of The Year,” Mark tells him. “We’re gonna kick your arse.”
Family of The Year is a fundraiser to help families in need. Every year we compete in the trials to win the competition. There’s the wheel race, which is lifting and throwing a wheel for a hundred metres; a cooking contest, which allows two minutes to eat as many spicy wings as you can; and other fun stuff. And every year, the Carter’s and the Hayes’ end up the last two families competing. It ends with tug of war.
Jaxon scoffs. “Like you stand a chance. We won last year.”
“Because some fucker told the judges Charlotte was doing the cake contest,” I growl, eyeing him suspiciously. None of us could prove it, but we think one of the Hayes brothers paid the judges to change the name on the form for the cake contest from Faith to Charlotte. And you can’t change names at the last minute.
“There’s nothing wrong with my cakes,” Charlotte says, looking adorably confused.
Jaxon eyes her like she’s got a screw loose. “There’s nothing right with them, either.”
“Watch it, Jaxon,” Landon growls, always protective of Charlotte.
They stare at each other for a beat before Jaxon sighs, looking away. “I’m too fucking busy to deal with this today. Later.”
The girls immediately relax when he leaves to sit with Paisley on another table. She chose to sit at the one furthest away from us.
Clever girl.
Taking my seat, I watch as Lily tries to bring up Sunday’s wind. Between her pursed lips is a ring of white; milk bubbles still around the edg
e. I smile, finding her cute face adorable.
“Here, let me. If it’s not brought up properly, she’ll get bellyache,” I tell Lily, taking Sunday from her. Learning the trick I watched on YouTube, I tilt her back a little, then forwards, then back again before rubbing her back. She burps, making me proud.
“You really are incredible with her, Aiden,” she says.
“I’m gonna go order everyone’s food. Does everyone want the same?” Charlotte asks, standing up. We all nod.
“You aren’t paying for everyone’s food again. I’ll come help you,” Landon says.
“I made a list of things I might need last night,” I tell Lily. “Do you think they have some drawers in the shop you’re taking us to?”
“Of course. They have everything a baby will need. And Dad gave me some money to get her some things.”
I grin. “He’s smitten with her. He’s already spoiling her.”
Lily returns my smile. “He is. He was gonna go out himself, but Mum told him to let you handle it. Then he threw loads of money at me.”
“I’ll thank him later.”
“What are you gonna do about work?” Mark asks, listening to our conversation.
“I don’t know. Mason said I could have a few weeks to sort myself out, but after that, I’m gonna have to organise something for Sunday. Mum and Mary both offered to babysit while I work, but I can’t picture leaving her. She’s still so small.”
“You need to work to support the both of you,” Lily reminds me softly.
“I know.”
“And you don’t want social services thinking you can’t provide for her. Ask Mum and Mary what days they can do. I’m sure Mason will work with you so you aren’t working long hours.”
“All right. Either way, I’ve got two weeks off—with pay. Hopefully, it will feel easier to leave for work by then.”
No one looks convinced as they watch me cuddling my sleeping daughter. It still doesn’t feel real.
CHAPTER FIVE
Aiden (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 2) Page 4