by Black, T. E.
“SHE’S SLEEPING. I swear I’d make the best father ever. Just call me the kid whisperer," Trent jokes, flopping down next to me in bed.
"Oh, yeah? Kid whisperer? I'll remember that the next time she's throwing a tantrum from hell. You can come whisper to her then. See how far it gets you," I tease.
He wraps his tattooed arms around my waist, pulling me to him while his face finds its way into the crook of my neck. His breath touches my skin, my mind becoming aware of how natural this feels between us.
"Mmm. Have I told ya how fucking amazing you smell?" he quirks, running his nose against my skin.
"You've told me three times tonight. I'm not keeping count, but you did say."
"Well, I'm telling ya again, kitten. You smell fucking divine. I could breathe ya in for the rest of my damn life."
I don't come up with anything to say. I enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapped around me and the light kisses he places upon my skin. I don't let my mind wander to the trouble to come between us. I just enjoy what this is—us.
“You think so?" I tease lightly, rubbing my fingers over his.
He makes a humming noise I feel down to my toes. It ignites my body and soul into a gauntlet of flames. It's something about the noises he makes when he's content, lying on my bed, making me feel this way.
"I know so, sweetheart."
I roll over to face him, a smile playing on my lips. How could Ryleigh even say those things about him earlier? Right now, at this moment, he's nothing like she said. He's sober from what I can see. He's kind, caring, and funny. He's the man I can fall in love with. I know obstacles are coming, but it's a bridge to cross when we get there together.
"Do you think this will work, Trent?" I give in.
I ask him what everyone is telling me won't happen. I need to hear it from him before I let this continue.
He removes his hands from my waist, bringing them to each side of my face as if I’m the most delicate thing he's ever touched. He brushes the pads of his thumbs in a slow-paced motion over my cheeks; his eyes are locked with mine eternally.
"Shay, we're gonna work. Hell, we've been working since the first time I felt myself inside ya. I don't give a shit if we acted as if we hated each other afterward. We both know it was bullshit. You and that little girl in the other room are the only things that work in my fucked-up life. I won’t let either of you go."
I fall in love with Trent Wallace at this moment. I give him myself and my daughter. I welcome him into my heart where Abby has been the only one occupying it for a long time. I let him into our lives without a reasonable doubt.
Florida Georgia Line – “Smoke”
MEETING SHAY’S FATHER is probably the most nerve-wracking thing I've ever done in my life. After all, I have to gain his approval for not one but two of his girls.
"Nice to meet you, son. What did you say your name was again?" he questions, holding out his hand for me.
"Trent, sir. It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Kirby," I reply, taking his hand for a shake.
He releases my hand, bellowing out a fit of laughter. “Son, Mr. Kirby was my father and his father before me. Please. Call me Adam."
I smile at his casualness, nodding. "Sounds good, Adam. Nice to meet you, officially."
"Likewise, son."
We both occupy a seat at the round table, covered in birthday décor. I smile softly at the zoo-themed tablecloth, the kangaroo-shaped plates, and the centerpieces with a sign sticking from the top saying, "Happy Birthday, Abby."
Mr. Kir- Adam, must notice me staring at the decorations because he lets out an exasperated sigh before speaking.
"So you and my daughter, huh?"
My body tenses, my eyes darting toward his and I search for anything other than disappointment or disgust.
"Yes, sir. I love your daughter. If I'm being honest here, Abby is like the daughter I never had."
He lets out a chuckle, adjusting the watch sitting on his wrist.
"That's for sure. Abby is one of a kind. My granddaughter is just like her mother. She loves with all of her heart, giving to you until she has nothing left to give."
I swallow a hard lump in my throat, the sweat I didn't notice dripping down the bridge of my nose.
"I won’t tell you I don’t want to see my daughter happy because that's all I want in my life. If there's one thing I want before I leave this world, it's to walk my daughter down the aisle while my granddaughter is the flower girl. So I'm going to say this one time and one time only, then I'll never give you the lecture again. Got it?"
Fuck. Here come the nerves again. I'm a grown-ass man, but hell, if I were ever given the opportunity to lecture some guy my daughter was dating, I'd have a fucking rifle pointed at the son of a bitch. Forget having a casual conversation like Shay’s father is so kindly giving me.
I give Adam a knowing nod, making a silent promise on its own, yet I still feel the need to speak it aloud.
"I promise I'll take good care of them, sir. I love them both, and I'll never let anything happen to them. I'm hoping one day you'll accept me to be your son-in-law because, like I told my mother, I plan on marrying Shay one day."
Shay's father's brows shoot up as if he's just gotten lit on fire, and he starts to ramble on about Shay and I getting married.
"That's a bridge we'll cross when the time comes, Trent."
I let out an awkward, nervous laugh before Mac cuts our conversation short. “Trent! Get your ass over here! We got manly shit to do!” he shouts.
Mr. Kirby bellows out a laugh, excusing me from our conversation.
“Sorry, Adam.”
“WHY ARE YOU being so helpful?" Callie asks from behind the dessert table.
Yeah. That's right. The dessert table. The lady who set up everything for Abby's party is a fucking saint. I swear to God if it weren’t for her—I would’ve damn near pulled my hair out. Who knew a party was so much damn work? I fucking didn't. Well, not until I walked into the actual party.
I set down the stack of presents I'm carrying to their rightful spot, situating them before I answer Callie.
"What's wrong, darlin’? Afraid if ya see me break a sweat your panties will just fall off?" I make sure to add a wink at the end, so she has no choice to blush.
Callie is a good chick, and Mac is damn lucky to have her. Honestly, he shouldn't wait too long on the whole wedding ordeal because some other asshole might just scoop her up from under his nose.
I can say with the utmost honesty that those two are in love. I've seen it with my own damn eyes. For instance, when Mac thought Crazy Caroline was pregnant with his fucking kid, he was ready to up and cry while he drowned himself in booze. And as much as I would’ve liked to see the big ol' pansy cry like the bitch he is, I couldn't help but try to cheer his ass up. I had to break out the big guns and start letting out some of my best dirty jokes, which in turn, was worth every shoulder punch from him. After all, what are best friends for?
"Trent," Callie scolds, her arms now instinctively strapped across her chest. "I told you to cut that crap out. If Mac hears you making jokes about me, he's going to freak the hell out, and unfortunately for both of us, I kind of like you. Therefore, I don't really feel like watching him beat the snot out of you."
The side of my mouth quirks up into a smile as I prepare my comeback. I love fucking around with Callie. She's so damn innocent, and it's too fucking easy to make her blush.
"You can beat some-" My sentence gets cut off when I feel a large hand clamp down on my shoulder.
"What was that?" Mac asks, tightening his grip so my muscles explode in pain.
"Nothing, fucker. Callie and I were just fooling around," I defend, silently begging him to remove his hand from my pressure point. It fucking hurts.
"Malcolm Davis. Get over here and leave Trent alone. We were just kidding around. Abby wouldn’t want her uncle beating the crap out of Trent at her birthday party."
Mac lets out a laugh, moving toward his woman and sweepin
g her into a kiss.
Where’s my girl?
I make a gagging noise, but Mac chuckles and Callie lets out a tiny giggle.
"Hey, handsome."
Shay's touch is one that goes down for the record books. That woman's hands make my blood boil with desire. I know it’s her before she even speaks. Every time she touches me, a spark crackles inside of me.
I move quickly, snaking my arms around her waist and pulling her to me before she can protest.
"Hey, beautiful," I say, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
She smiles a gorgeous, white smile, her red lips complementing her perfect teeth, and I smile back. She's fucking beautiful.
"You know, Abby’s so excited about this. She'll never forget this party, and it's all because of you. Thank you, Trent," she whispers against my lips.
"I didn't have a damn thing to do with it, kitten. I only wrote the check. This was your idea from day one. Don't knock yourself down off the pedestal your little girl puts you on. This was all you."
Shay lets out a small laugh just as Abby crashes painfully into the two of us.
"Mommy! Mommy!" she yells just about as loudly as she can.
We both break away from each other, and I watch Shay squat down to Abby's level. "That's my name. What can I do for you, birthday girl?"
Abby smiles brightly. "Is it time for presents?"
I can't stop the laughter erupting from my body.
Just like her mother, she has become a part of me in her own way.
"I think we can do presents now, sweetheart. Go round everyone up. Trent and I will get everything ready."
Abby squeals, dashing through the party yelling, "Presents!", and once again, I laugh at her bubbly personality.
"So I guess it’s present time?" I ask Shay, an enormous grin on my face.
"I guess it is," she confirms, smiling wide.
Jamie Lawson – “Wasn’t Expecting That”
"MOM! DO YOU see them?" Abby asks, shoving a pair of pink Converse toward me.
I smile at her holding the tiny pink Converse lined with glittery sequins and adorned with sparkly white shoelaces.
"They're so pretty, sweetheart. Go give Aunt Callie and Uncle Mac a hug and tell them thank you."
She eagerly hops off the chair surrounded by gifts as she makes a beeline for Mac and Callie and tackles them both into a hug. The pink Converse never leave her grasp the entire time as Mac lets out a low whistle, telling Abby she's going to look just like Aunt Callie.
"I really couldn't figure out what to buy her, Shay. I'm sorry. I'll take her shopping and let her pick out anything she wants," Trent says, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I don't let him see how much it affects me that he couldn't even buy a simple birthday card for Abby. I had assumed he would get her something, but I guess he did get her this entire party at the end of the day. That’s huge.
"It's okay. She has so much stuff here. I doubt she'll notice."
I lean back into his touch, letting the warmth of his hold engulf me. He’s so damn comfortable, and he's mine. All mine.
"Whatcha thinkin' about, babe?" he questions, placing a small kiss on my neck.
"Honestly?"
"Honesty is the best policy, isn't it?" he quirks back.
"I just can't stop thinking about my dad. He seems so sad. I feel like he should be living with Abby and me, not in California."
"Then ask him to move here, babe. Ya know he would. He loves you two," he suggests.
I sigh heavily.
"It's not that easy. He doesn't like change. He's not just going to leave everything behind. He's lived there all of his life, Trent."
He nibbles at my earlobe before whispering, "Why don't you just ask him? You'd be surprised at how persuasive ya actually are, kitten."
I spin in his arms, my lips traveling to meet his, but once again, Abby has the worst timing ever. That's my little girl.
"Mommy, is that all of my presents? There's no more?" she questions, flopping down into the pile, which is taller than she is.
I pull away from Trent, settling myself beside her in the clutter of toys and clothes.
"That's all of it, baby girl. Did you have a good time?"
"The best time ever!" she squeaks out, kicking her old sneakers off and replacing them with her new Converse.
"I think ya forgot one, little princess."
I spin around, seeing Trent kneel down next to Abby with an envelope in his hand. He got her a card. Just when he let me believe he didn't get her anything, he did. I knew it. I knew he couldn't resist getting Abby something.
"I did?" Abby questions, looking at him excitedly.
"You did," he confirms.
"What is it?"
Abby pulls the card from Trent's hand, ripping it open faster than lightning can strike. Trent smiles from ear to ear and Abby's eyes widen with confusion while she tries to read it.
"What is it, Abs?" I ask, scooting in closer to see for myself.
I read the card, which matches the zoo invitations almost to a T. My eyes keep scanning it. They travel past the birthday wishes, beyond Trent's name, and stop on a picture of a real kangaroo printed at the bottom with the name "Roo Kirby" under it.
"Trent?" I ask, now confused myself.
As if it's planned, I hear a woman singing, "Happy Birthday," her voice getting closer.
Abby and I both turn at the same time; Abby is screaming in a fit of happiness, and I’m trying to choke back sobs coming in full force. The lady who was singing keeps walking toward us, in her zoo uniform, holding a baby kangaroo, and a gift bag stuffed full.
"Happy birthday, Abby. This is your adoptive kangaroo. Abby, meet Roo,” the zookeeper tells Abby.
I'm still wide-eyed, even though my tears flow freely now. Abby is trying to pry the kangaroo from the zookeeper’s hands, but the keeper tries to explain to Abby that Roo has to stay here so they can take care of him properly.
He adopted a damn kangaroo for my daughter. Can I love him any more than I do now?
“YOU ARE UNBELIEVEABLE," I tell Trent adoringly.
I still can't get over what he did for Abby today. Not only did he rent the zoo, but he also adopted a kangaroo for her. I've never seen Abby smile as she did when she gave Trent a hug to say thank you.
"You're pretty damn amazing yourself, sweetheart," he says, with a smirk on his lips.
I lay on my king-size bed, a smile of my own permanently etched onto my face. I take in the sight of him, and it makes me sweat. Trent is the most attractive man I've ever seen. He's covered in tattoos, like me. His arms, his hands, neck, chest, back—every inch. As much as people judge him for the way he looks on the outside, I don't. I know what it's like to be looked at as an outcast just because I'm tattooed and a mother. For some reason, the public thinks I can’t be a good mom when I look this way. Well, newsflash to the public—
I'm a damn good mom.
"You want me to go tuck in the birthday girl, babe, or do you want to?" Trent questions, a hopeful look in his eyes.
Normally, I'd be the one to tuck Abby in, but I can’t deny him this. He’s earned it. He's earned Abby's love, and I won't take it from him.
"You can go. I already tucked her in earlier."
Trent's smile shines brightly as he races toward the door, his footsteps going toward Abby's room. The moment I hear Abby giggling, I feel a small sting of jealousy course through my body, but I shoo it away. Instead of letting myself become green with envy, I embrace it. And by embracing it, I mean I tiptoe quietly to Abby's half open door and eavesdrop.
"Did you have a good birthday, little princess?" Trent questions, sitting on top of the covers on Abby's bed.
She doesn't answer, but nods her head slightly as she clutches stuffed animal Roo with her tiny hands.
"Is that a yes?"
Trent starts to tickle Abby, causing her to scream out in laughter.
"Yes! Yes!" she yelps, happily.
He stops tickling
her, and Abby sinks into her pillows, grinning wide at Trent. He looks at her with such love; it causes my heart to swell and my breath to hitch. I hope it stays this way forever.
"I love you, princess. Get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow, we'll go visit Roo," Trent says, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead.
Oh God. Trent is telling my daughter he loves her, and I'm creeping around watching it happen. Damn you, tears. Just stop.
Trent starts to stand from her bed, and I hear it.
"I love you too, Daddy."
The tears work overtime.
The Darkness – “I Believe In A Thing Called Love”
"COME HERE, BABE." Shay obliges, strutting her long, high-heeled legs my way before settling herself between my thighs. How did I get so damn lucky?
"What can I do for you, sir?" she questions, raising her eyebrow suggestively.
I can think of a million things I want her to do for me, but I settle for the PG shit that won't cause the customers to run from the shop.
"How about a kiss?"
She lets out a small laugh, leaning over me to place her lips against my cheek. No way that’s happening.
I use both hands to grab her face, pulling her lips to mine. As soon as our mouths touch, I forget where we are, not giving a shit if anyone sees. This is my fucking woman, and I'll kiss her all the damn time if I want to.
She lets out an "mmm" noise, and it goes straight to my dick. Hell, anything she does causes my dick to get hard. That's just unavoidable.
"Keep making those noises, kitten, and I swear I'll bend you over right here," I growl against her lips.
"That's what I'm hoping for, big guy," she replies.
Dammit. That's it.
"Let's take a break, man. Gimme twenty. I got some important shit that needs to be taken care of," I tell the guy who’s sitting in my tattoo chair, more than likely with a hard-on.
"No problem, dude. I'll go have a smoke," he accepts.