by Chloe Walsh
Well hell.
My heart.
My freaking body…
Smirking right back at him, I teased, "If you cuss in Church, you won't go to heaven."
Hunter snorted – literally snorted – at my warning before resuming his post of glaring at the back of Jordan's head. And he did it while looking like a fricking sex god.
All suited up in a tight-fitted white shirt and black slacks, Hunter bounced Abi on his knee, not caring one bit that she was yanking gleefully on his tie like it was her new favorite toy.
His blond hair, back to its former glory since his ordeal in Mexico, was slicked back in his signatory man-bun. His beard was neatly trimmed and styled. Only one visible scar remained on his face now, right above his left eye, and it only seemed to add to his appeal.
He was completely oblivious to the countless ogles and stares from the women sitting in the nearby makeshift pews. I felt like baring my teeth and growling at those women, but then I thought about where I was and I managed to reign it in – barely.
Everyone around us was getting engaged or married. People couldn’t understand it; how Hunter and I were content just being together. They wouldn’t understand. Marriage was not on our agenda. I knew he was never going to propose to me, and I took a weird comfort in that. A piece of paper didn’t mean anything to us.
My father loved Hunter. He genuinely adored him, but he couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t understand why he refused to marry his daughter.
All of my family expected it to happen after Abi was born. But we were perfectly content living in sin. He was never going to give me a ring, and I didn’t want one. I had one of those before. I said those words once. And it was a mistake. Nothing about Hunter Casarazzi was a mistake, and I wasn't tarring him with the same brush.
He looked my way and in that one glance I knew. I just knew he was going to fuck me seven ways from Sunday when this was all over. He was promising me all kinds of everything. I could see it in those blue eyes of his. He was watching me. Marking me. Laying claim on me.
Good.
I wanted to be owned by him. Wholly and completely.
Smirking, Hunter reached over and cupped the back of my head. "Gimme a kiss, sweetheart."
And then he kissed me in the middle of the church, in front of everyone. Stunned, I could do nothing but kiss him back, feeling more emotion than was safe for me. I was powerless when it came to this guy. He ruined me.
"Hey!" a familiar voice hissed from the row behind us, causing us to reluctantly pull apart. Moments later, a blonde head poked out between us. "Are you on birth control?"
"What?" I turned to gape at my best friend. "I'm on the pill, Teegs. Why?"
"The pill?" Teagan looked at me like I had grown three extra heads. "You think a tiny pink smarty is going to stop those Carter ovaries from snatching up the strongest swimmer?"
"Ew, Teegs."
"Don't ew me, Hope Carter," Teagan shot back as she patted her huge stomach. "If I've learned anything from my time with your family, it's that you guys possess over achieving reproductive organs." Gesturing to Hunter, she huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I see the way he's looking at you. Like you're breakfast, lunch, and freaking dinner. Careful, Hope, or you'll end up with another bundle of joy."
"Thorn," Noah grumbled from beside her. "Can you at least try to contain the crazy until the service is over?"
"Do you think he has an attitude problem?" Teagan asked later that evening, as we all sat around an impressive round table. "I'm deadly serious, guys." She glanced between her son and her husband. "He looks so mad."
"With you two as his parents?" Colton drawled sarcastically. "Never."
"Look at that frown," Teagan continued, ignoring my brother. "He's always frowning."
"What?" Noah frowned, mirroring his son's expression. "No, Thorn, he's fine."
"Looks just like his father if you ask me," Colton interjected with a snicker.
"No one asked you," Noah shot back in warning.
"He's angry," Teagan added, bouncing Finn on her hip. "A lot, Noah."
"He's just a baby." Rubbing his stubbly chin, Noah cast a quick glance towards his son before shaking his head. "You took your tit away, babe. He's pissed off."
"Don't say pissed off in front of our son, asshole," Teagan snapped, slapping her husband's hand away from her chest "Or tit."
Noah rolled his eyes. "What – like you just said?"
"Oh, fuck off, Noah!"
"That's lovely, Thorn."
"Guys, stop fighting," I offered, stifling a laugh.
"Abi smiles," Teagan hurried on, pointing to my daughter, who was, as per usual, smiling at her uncle Colt. "All the freaking time. And my baby? He frowns, Noah! He's like the king of frowning." Teagan's expression fell and she paled before whispering, "Oh my god. Do you think he's not happy?"
"The fuck?" Gaping at his wife, Noah pushed his chair back and hoisted Finn out of Teagan's arms before standing up. "He's not unhappy, Thorn. He's just… honest about his feelings."
"Honest?" Looking vulnerable, Teagan stared up at her husband with a hopeful expression. "Really?"
"Yeah," Noah coaxed. "Don’t be fooled by that angelic smile of hers," he continued, pointing to my daughter. "I've seen her father wear that exact smirk seconds before he made a kill." Shrugging, he added, "Sometimes during a kill."
"Excuse me!" I choked out, feeling outraged. "My child is not a sadistic killer!"
"No," Colton snickered. "That's just your lover."
"Oh fuck off, Colton!"
"Speaking of sadistic killers," Teagan piped up. "Any idea where you left yours, Hopey-bear?"
I glanced around the table only to find Hunter's chair suspiciously empty.
Ah hell.
Lucky Casarazzi
For most of my adult life, I walked a thin line between moral and immoral, somehow managing to find a balance between right and wrong, good and evil, man and monster.
My sins were many and my soul was charred like the bones of my enemies.
Convictions? They were a dime a dozen to men like me.
Felonies? Fuck, I had those, too.
I lived in a war zone; a consistent frenzy of drug-fueled violence, constant paranoia, wicked bloodshed, and, inevitably, death. Christ, I had been knocking on Heaven's door for a long damn time. Almost met the man on a few occasions.
Still, it had never bothered me before now. I had never given much thought to the way I lived my life, or the lives I had taken.
And then there was Hope.
The woman.
The feeling.
The… everything.
She burst into my world and threw everything on its axis. All of sudden I had a woman to think about, to protect from the skeletons bursting out of my closet. To protect from the demons that actively hunted me down.
I was thirty-two years old and my body was fit for retirement. My knuckles were worn. The holes still left inside of me were hollow and angry. When I woke up in the morning, it was to crippling pain and a racing mind.
I hid it the best I could, Hope didn’t need to worry about me, but it was there. The fear of being unable to protect her from the monsters I had brought to our doorstep was a very real concern for me.
I had no clue how the woman could see beyond what I was – how she could see beyond the crimes I'd committed, or the lives I'd taken.
But she did.
I wasn’t so sure about my kid, though.
Growing up with a killer for a father?
Finding out who I was?
What I am…
Fuck me, for all I knew there would be kids in her grade whose relations I had taken out. It wasn’t something I had kept track of and, if I was being honest, thought about. Because I didn’t expect to be a father.
But here I was, trying to walk the line, be a little girl's daddy, and live within the boundaries of the law. Hard thing to do for a man who knew nothing but the other side of that line.
On a brigh
t note, I was bossing this dad shit. Seriously, I had it down. Sterilizing bottles, night feeds, diaper changes. I had a handle on all of it. I was so damn determined not to fuck this kid up. I'd seen it in prison. That place was filled with guys with daddy issues so deep no psychiatrist could root them out.
Not my kid.
Whatever she needed, I would be down. I took my role as her father seriously, which came as a surprise to Noah and the rest of them. Apparently, I wasn’t a serious kind of man. And hell, maybe I wasn’t.
Up until Hope Carter, I went with the flow. She was the first thing I had intentionally hunted down. I'd never been more serious about anything in my life as I was about that woman.
And this kid?
The one we'd made together?
Goddamn, I was serious about her. Abi was mine. My daughter. I would not fuck this up. Hell, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing most of the time, but I was trying dammit. She liked me. Smiled when she saw me. Settled when she was in my arms. Yeah, my girl knew who I was. She knew I had her back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Colton bop around with Abi in his arms as a flock of women surrounded him. Fucker was using my daughter to pick up women. Standing nearby was Logan, who was entertaining baby Finn, and looking on at his brother in dismay.
I shook my head and forced down the urge to kick his fuckboy ass for using my kid as pussy bait.
Remembering that I was on strict orders to not get bloody tonight, I reigned it in.
The tension somewhat eased from my shoulders a few moments later when Lee Carter hurried onto the dance floor to retrieve her grandbaby and scold her wayward son.
"Hello," Cameron Carter said, snapping his fingers in front of me. "Earth to Lucky."
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I cocked a brow at Hope's brother. "What?"
"I asked if you wanted another drink, dude?"
"The man is attending his baby mama's former father-in-law's wedding. Of course he wants another drink," Noah filled in, joining us at the bar. Setting his kid – the mirror image of him – on top of the counter, he flagged the bartender down and ordered a round of Jack before turning to look at me. "You good, Luck?"
Was I?
Hell to the no.
Would I admit it?
Not on my death bed.
"I still can't believe you didn’t tell me that your sister's a stripper, dude," Colton said, coming to join us at the bar, and snagging his brother's freshly poured tumbler of whiskey. "Do you have any idea how many boxes she's ticking for me?" he asked before tossing the amber liquid back his throat. "Goddamn, I think I'm in love."
"That's my sister you're talking about, you little pervert," I growled, keeping my voice low, but my eyes locked on the horned-up fucker whose attention was fixated on Hayden. "So back the fuck off."
"And that's my sister you're shacked up with," Colton shot back with a pearly white grin, inclining his head to where Hope was sitting at our table talking to Teagan, Tillie, and Brooke – the pretty little brunette nurse Logan had brought as his date tonight. Unfortunately for me, the person Colton Carter had chosen to accompany him tonight just so happened to be my goddamn sister.
"Your sister is a grown ass woman," I informed him, taking a good long look at the fabulous fucking female I was taking home tonight before returning my attention to baby Carter. "Hayden is barely twenty."
"Bullshit," Colton scoffed. "You can't run with the hare and hunt with the hound, Lucky boy!" Grinning, he winked daringly before adding, "What's good for the goose is good for the gander."
"Listen here, farm boy," I snarled, feeling the urge to maim and kill rise up inside of me at a rapid pace. "Put your dick near that girl and I will fuck you up!"
Otis Redding's Love Man blasted from the speakers and I groaned in audible despair as Colton scampered off. "That fucker wants to die," I stated grimly as I watched baby Carter dance his ass off in the most animated fashion across the floor in the direction of my little sister.
Noah, who was concentrating on trying to make his son smile, shrugged nonchalantly. "Think my nephew wants to get laid –"
"Don’t say it," I warned him. "Don’t even think it, man."
Chuckling, Noah shook his head and lifted his son into his arms. "Could be worse," he added, bobbing with Finn in his arms.
"Oh yeah?" I raised a brow. "How'd you figure that one?"
He smirked and pointed across the room. "Could be that fucker you're warding off."
My eyes locked on the curly haired prick Noah was pointing at and a low growl ripped from my throat.
Jordan.
"Get me drunk, Noah," I pleaded before tossing my drink back. Slapping the glass down on the counter, I flagged the bar tender and grumbled, "Get me so fucking drunk that I can't aim a gun, man."
Hope Carter
"You did good, Angel," Dad said, twirling me out and then spinning me around to Loudon Wainwright III's Daughter. "And I honestly couldn’t be prouder of you."
Listening intently to the lyrics of the song, I found myself smiling against his chest.
Like the habit of a lifetime, I snuggled close to the man who raised me and breathed him in, feeling that blanket of security cloak over me. "Even now, Dad?"
He knew what I was referring to.
I didn’t need to verbalize the long list of my indiscretions.
"Especially now," he replied, tone confident and strong. "So, hold that head up high, my little pocketful of hope, because you've made your old man proud."
Pocketful of hope? "Ugh, Dad," I groaned, blushing at the stupid endearment. "That's so…cheesy."
"Don’t give me that shit," he chuckled. "You just wait until Abi's older and every little thing you do or say embarrasses her."
"Yeah, well, if she watches this video back, she's going to feel justified in her shame," I chuckled, pointing over my shoulder to where my stupid brother was attempting to dance with my baby.
Concern pooled inside of my belly as I watched a notably drunk Colton fake-moonwalk Abi around the dancefloor, bobbing her up and down to the beat as he went.
The sunglasses, men's dress hat, and bowtie he'd decided to dress her in looked ridiculous, but she was grinning in delight, clearly enjoying her uncle's antics.
I was far from impressed.
"What the hell is he doing now?" I growled, stopping short. "He knows she can't walk yet – Colton! If you drop my baby, I'm going to kill –"
My words fell off the tip of my tongue when I watched Hunter snatch our baby away from my brother.
Hoisting his daughter into his arms, he tossed the hat and glasses back to Colt, as he checked her over from head to toe, carefully undoing the bow-tie on her neck.
I smirked, watching as Colt held his hands up and slowly moonwalked away from the danger zone with Hunter glowering after him.
"She's going to ruin him," Dad mused, dragging me from my thoughts. "I can't wait."
"Who – Abi?" I asked, turning my attention back to my father.
"Mmm-hmm," Dad confirmed with a smirk, leading me off the dance floor. "Little girls always do the most damage to their father's hearts."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience, Dad," I half-joked, half-cringed, making a beeline for my baby. "Is she okay?" I asked Hunter when I reached our table.
"Yeah, she's all good, sweetheart." Sitting on the chair next to my mother, he cradled our sleepy-daughter to his chest. "It's way past her bedtime, though."
"I can take her up to our room if y'all wanna spend some time together," Mom offered, cooing and doting on her granddaughter.
"Are you sure?" Hunter asked, turning to look at Mom.
"Of course," she replied, offering him a genuine, warm smile. "It would be a real treat for me. Kyle, you don’t mind if we get some snuggle-time in with our little grandbaby tonight, do you?"
My dad didn’t look nearly as enthusiastic as Mom, but he smiled and agreed for Mom's sake. "Sure thing, princess."
"Thanks,
Mom," I said, feeling strangely nervous at the prospect of having a night with Hunter that didn’t include a baby sleeping between us.
"So," my father said then, blue eyes locked on Hunter. "When can we expect the next big day?"
Oh god…
"Dad," I warned, cheeks flushing. "No. Don’t start this again. Please. Let it go."
Leaning back in his chair, Hunter rested an arm over the back of my mother's chair and smirked at my father. "Are you asking me to be your son, Kyle?"
"Hunter," I grumbled, feeling incredibly embarrassed. "Don’t tease him."
"What I want, Lucky, is for you to step up."
The smirk on Hunter's face grew wider. "Is that so?"
"There's an order in life," Dad pressed. "Marriage first and then babies."
Hunter laughed. "I know."
"I see a baby, but no ring."
He laughed harder. "I know."
"Oh lord," Mom muttered.
"Yeah, Mom," I agreed with a sigh. "Oh lord indeed."
Lucky Casarazzi
Later that night, when Lee Carter had turned into Mary Poppins and herded all of the babies up to her room for a sleepover – much to her husband's dismay – Hope sidled up to me at the bar.
Slowly taking in the sight of her, I allowed my gaze to rake her over, revering in every soft curve and exposed slither of skin.
Nothing in my life had ever looked as good as Hope Carter.
Fuck me, she was beautiful.
She was dressed in yellow, her long dark brown curls styled to fall effortlessly down one shoulder.
And when she locked those big blue eyes on me, it was painful.
For a long time, being around this woman was a different kind of pain – because at the end of the night, I always had to give her back to him.
Not anymore.
No more pretenses.
No more having to hide how sickeningly in love I was with her.