“And you shouldn’t lie to my mother either.” Chase crossed his arms over the Batman insignia on his chest.
“No lying,” Penelope added with a satisfied smirk on her pouty lips.
Ian nodded. “We have a deal. No more lying. Now, should I call your mother and apologize or—”
“Nah, just order the pizza,” Chase said.
The pizza arrived and was promptly devoured. Little Penelope had a huge appetite. Ian couldn’t believe the amount of food she packed away. He sure hoped her stomach didn’t revolt. His pansy ass gut wouldn’t accept that particular challenge very well. Poor Chase would be cleaning up the contents of two digestive tracks.
“How do you feel, princess?”
She belched loud enough to make a drunk proud. “Full.”
He cringed back a bit. “Sick at all?”
Blond curls rioted with the adamant swinging of her head. “Nope.”
“Well then, it’s time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”
Her face scrunched up and she looked at the huge clock on the wall. “It’s not eight-firty.”
Ian shot a shocked look at Chase. “She can tell time?”
Chase laughed. “No. But she made you think she could.” He stood and took his baby sister by the hand. “Come on. I’ll help you brush your teeth.”
She snorted, following him up the stairs. “I do it myself.”
“How about I just put the toothpaste on your toothbrush?” Chase offered.
She paused, then finally nodded and started walking again. “I do it myself.”
Ian checked out of the rest of the conversation, opting for the cleanup. When placing the order, he never imagined the lack of leftovers. He rounded up the empty box and disgusting, grease-stained paper plates. His belly gurgled at the thought of the stuff he’d just ingested. Nothing clean about that. Seriously, being with the Blacks shot his diet to hell.
And he didn’t regret one damn second. He’d just hit the treadmill when he got home.
The kids were coming down the stairs as he came out of kitchen. Penelope hopped off the bottom step, her Pepto colored nightgown flaring out at the hem. She ran to him. “My teeth clean. See?” She grinned, looking a little like a constipated Chihuahua.
“Very nice.” Ian glanced at Chase. “What about you?”
“All good.”
“Where are your pajamas?”
Chase shrugged. “I don’t need them for a while.”
Ian lifted his brows. “Think again, bud. Get ‘em on.”
Blue eyes rolled around in his head. “Whatever,” preceded the retreat back up the stairs.
“Thank you,” Ian hollered at the kid’s back, then said to Pene, “Let’s get you in bed.”
“It’s not—” She yawned until her tonsils made an appearance. “—eight-firty.”
“You’re right. It’s after eight-thirty.” He hefted her into his arms. “You got your diaper on?”
She clutched his face, sandwiching his cheeks between her hands, and brought her nose to his. “I no wear diapers. Ni’-ni’ underpants. I wear ni’-ni’ underpants. No’ a diaper.”
He nodded as best he could under her grip. “Got it. You have your night-night underpants on?”
“Yes.” She yawned again, released her hold and laid her head on his shoulder. “But I no’ tired.”
He humored her. “I know, but it’s time for bed anyway.”
When they got to her room, he put her in the crib, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She rubbed at her eyes. “Story?”
“Um…sure. Where’s a book?”
She shook her head. “No book.”
Confusion two-by-foured him. “Then how?”
She tapped her temple. “Your ‘mag’nation.”
“Um…yeah, I don’t know about that, princess. I’m not very good at telling stories.”
Her scowl was the three-year-old equivalent of bullshit.
He laughed. “Fine, but don’t blame me if it su- er, stinks.”
“Tell me about a princess. I like stories about princessessess.”
“Sure thing.” He pondered his topic for a minute, unsure of where exactly to go with the story. “There once was a princess…” From Nantucket, his thoughts added.
“No, no, no.” Pene swung her head back and forth in violent protest. “Start with, ‘Once upon a time.’” She waved her hands as though leading an orchestra.
“Let’s try this again.” He cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…” He delivered the line from low in his throat, barely resisting the urge to bust up.
Penelope, however, wasn’t amused. “That no’ how it go, Ian.”
“I told you I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”
Her brows formed a V above her nose and her mouth a perfect rainbow. “And I no believe you.”
“Should we try again?”
She nodded from her prone position on the nearly flat pillow. She fisted a blanket and brought it just under her chin. He expected her to pop her thumb in her mouth, but that didn’t happen. Instead, her big blue eyes blinked, waiting.
“Once upon a time there was a princess, with long dark brown hair and eyes the color of the ocean.”
“She sounds pretty.”
“She’s very pretty, but she’s very sad.”
Penelope gasped. “Why she sad?”
“Our beautiful princess has a broken heart.”
“Why?”
Damn, he’d dipped his toe in very dangerous waters. “Her hu- ah, friend went away to slay a dragon and didn’t make it home.”
“What happen?” At least Penelope helped the story along at every turn, giving him time to come up with the next sentence.
“No one in the kingdom knew what happened to the brave knight. They think the dragon won their battle.” Penelope frowned, but didn’t ask for more clarification. Ian continued, “So, our princess was very sad and nobody in the kingdom could make her smile. The king hated seeing his daughter so sad. He asked all the villagers for their help, saying the man who made her smile could have her hand in marriage.”
“What if she no like him?”
Spoken like a true twenty-first century woman. “If he could finally make her smile, how could she not fall in love with him?”
She nodded, appeased.
Too bad love in real life didn’t happen so easily.
“Anyway, men from all over the countryside came to try and make the princess smile. Some were field workers, others were knights. One was a prince. He came from very far away after hearing of her plight—”
“Her wha’?”
“Her…problem,” he explained. “The prince traveled for many days, almost a month, to get to the princess. When he rode his horse through the gates of the kingdom, he heard crying. The sound hurt his heart, making him want to cry. But princes don’t cry. Princes are strong.” He flexed his biceps and Pene giggled.
“Strong to slay dragons.”
“Uh-huh, and to love princesses.”
She beamed.
“He knew the princess needed him, so he kicked his horse to make it go faster. The prince jumped from his steed at the palace walls and shouted, ‘Let me in. Let me in, you fools.’ The palace guards answered, ‘Go away.’ But the prince wouldn’t let anything stop him. He pounded on the wooden drawbridge, drawing his sword when it began to lower.”
Pene sat up, grinning at him through the bars of her crib.
“The prince ran inside, expecting to have to fight his way to the princess. But nobody was there. No one except a—”
“Unicorn!”
He chuckled. “Yes, a beautiful white unicorn with purple eyes and a rainbow mane. The unicorn snorted, making bubbles come out of its nose. It jerked its head in the direction of a long corri- er, hallway and the prince hurried to follow.”
Pene yawned. “He find princess?”
He guessed he’d better hurry the story along. “Yes, he found her crying.
She looked up at him, her eyes red.”
Pene grimaced. “She a monster?”
“No, no, no. You know how when you cry your eyes get red?”
“Like Mommy’s when she cries.”
“Yes. Like that.” He hated to think of Kayla’s tear stained eyes. “The prince ran into the room right on the unicorn’s hooves. When the unicorn stopped, the prince didn’t. He slammed into its rump—”
“Rump?”
“Butt. He ran smack into the unicorn’s butt. He flew back and landed on his own butt right in front of the princess. She looked up at him, surprise on her face. He grinned at her, the biggest smile he could muster. ‘Your majesty,’ he said, scrambling toward her on his knees. The unicorn whinnied and knocked him over with a brush of its big head. As he fell to the floor again, the princess giggled. She put her hand to her mouth, then she laughed and laughed and laughed.”
“Did they marry?”
“Yes, and they lived—”
“Happy Eva Afta.”
“Yes, they did.” He helped ease her back against the mattress. “Now you get some sleep.”
“I lo’ you, Ian.”
“I love you, too, princess.” He rubbed at her wispy blonde curls, turning off the light as he left the room.
Ian took his time making his way back downstairs. He’d never told a bedtime story, let alone made it up as he went along. He’d done a fairly decent job, if he did say so himself. Except that he’d failed at putting his audience to sleep. But maybe that meant he was better than he’d thought.
When he got back down to the living room, someone was asleep. Chase had curled up at one end of the couch. Out cold. At least he had his pajamas on.
Ian went over to the boy and tried to pick him up. His back tightened up. Holy hell! It wasn’t worth getting a hernia. The kid could sleep on the couch for all Ian cared. He nudged Chase.
“Hey, bud.”
Chase’s eyes popped open. “Huh?”
“It’s time for bed.”
“But I’m not tired.” He rubbed at his eyes.
“And that’s why you were sound asleep when I came back down?”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
Ian tipped his head, cocked one brow. “What’d we say about lying?”
Chase righted himself. “So maybe I was asleep, but I’m not now and it isn’t ten yet.”
He debated letting the kid stay up, but there was no way of getting the miniature tank to bed if he pulled another dead-weight on the couch. ‘Cause if Ian couldn’t lift him, no way in hell could Kayla.
“Listen, man, I’ll make you a deal. As long as you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed you can camp out until ten. But the second your eyelids get droopy, you’re done. You weigh a ton.”
Chase laughed. “Yeah, I weigh more than I look.”
“No kidding.” He plopped down next to his mini cohort. “Do we have a deal?”
Terse nod. “Yep. No sleeping. Got it.”
And yet two hours later, when Kayla walked into the living room, Ian and Chase were dead to the world. She grinned. Ian looked just as young and innocent as Chase. Her son curled up on one side of the couch while Ian had flattened out the recliner on his side of the couch, his feet crossed at the ankles, his arms over his chest.
The television softly played F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
“What’s a ven-er-e-al disease?” Sadie asked.
Horror washed over her and she whirled on her daughter. “Where’d you hear that?”
She pointed at the TV. “What is it?”
Kayla grabbed at the remote and turned off the television. “You’ll learn about that when you’re older.”
“Like learning what a MILF is?”
Ian’s soft chuckle interrupted her eyeroll. “Where’d she hear that?”
Sadie smiled, big and wide. “That’s what Daddy used to call Mommy.”
“That’s a great nickname ya got there, Kay.” His laugh mocked as well as humored.
“What does it mean, Ian?”
“Just like VD, you’ll learn about that when you’re older.” He lowered his legs, snapping the recliner closed. “Lemme see your head, love.”
Thankfully, she forgot all about MILFs and VDs as she ran over to Ian. She pushed her hair out of the way. “You can’t see it because of the Band-Aid, but I got four stitches!”
Ian dropped down to one knee, bringing himself down to her level. “Shut up! Four stitches? Dang, you’re bra- You were brave, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. Mostly.” She glanced at Kayla for verification. “I only cried a little when they gave me the shot.”
Kayla smiled at her daughter. “You were very brave, sweetheart. It’s time for bed now.”
She nodded at her mother then threw her arms around Ian’s neck. “I’m glad you were still here.”
“I’m glad I was here too. Goodnight, Sadiebug.”
She hurried up the stairs, half crawling when she stumbled.
Kayla picked up a couple of toys and set them on the coffee table. “Thanks, Ian. I’m sure you had better things to do than watch my kids.”
“Nope. Didn’t have any plans at all.” He shook his head and glanced over at Chase. “Ah, man. I told him no sleeping allowed.”
“He weighs a ton.”
“Yeah, he does. What the hell are you feeding him? Concrete?”
She heard herself laugh and the noise surprised her. It’d been way too long. “He’s always been like that. There’s a lot of weight jamb-packed in that kid’s body.”
“I’m going to leave him right there.”
“That’s a wise plan. Wouldn’t want you straining something.”
His expression went offended. “Are you saying I’m a wimp? ‘Cause I’m no wimp.” He flexed the bicep on his right arm. “I totally could get that little brick shithouse up to his bed.”
“And give yourself a hernia for your trouble.” Her face sure felt strange. She touched her cheek, felt her dimple. Well, hell, she was smiling. The idea of being happy scared her.
Back in the old days women mourned their husbands, wore black and a frown for a year. And here she was grinning and laughing after only ten weeks. What kind of wife did that make her?
“Kayla?”
She blinked, bringing Ian into focus. “Yeah.”
He didn’t have to say a word. Her mood had changed so quickly, she’d given herself whiplash.
“I shouldn’t be feeling…happy, Ian. I should—”
“You should just do the best you can.” Ian took her hand in his. He was so warm, his hands huge. “If you feel like laughing, laugh. Crying, cry. Screaming, scream. It’s okay to feel, Kayla. Leon died. You didn’t.”
Before she realized what she’d done her hand retreated from Ian’s face, her palm stinging. The motion probably surprised him, but he didn’t pull any of the what’s-that-for? He nodded, tipped his head.
“I’ll see you later.” He turned away from her and strode toward the front door.
She really needed to get a Bitch of the Year sash to go with her attitude. “Ian,” his name came out as a plea, “wait.”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I’m sorry.”
His wide back got even wider with his deep breath. “That seems to be your theme song.” Another breath. “Goodnight, Kayla.”
With no excuse good enough, she let him go, cringing when the front door closed. At some point a For Sale sign would pop up in his front yard and she wouldn’t blame him a bit. The kids would miss him like crazy. Truth was, so would she. But Ian was a big boy and he’d manage his life the way he saw fit.
“Ian lied.”
She tore her gaze from the very uninteresting front door to let it settle on her wide awake son. “What?”
He sat up in his impromptu bed, his spine straight. “Ian totally had a date tonight. Some girl named Denali.”
“What?”
“He called her and told her something had come up. Me and Pene, we were the s
omething. He lied. When he told you he didn’t have any plans tonight. He lied. Does that make you mad?”
Yeah, it did. More than mad, actually. It made her heart ache. For all of Ian’s goodness, his selflessness, she’d slapped him. “I’m sure he had a good reason for lying, Chase.”
“Yeah, like he didn’t want you to know about Denali,” he added a snort to emphasize the girl’s name.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care one way or the other that we know about Denali.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “Don’t you care?”
“No. Why should I—”
“Aren’t you jealous?”
For the second time tonight Kayla started to laugh. This time it didn’t surprise her. This laugh made her sides hurt. Her jealous of some faceless girl occupying Ian’s time? It was about time. The guy needed a little hottie on his arm, someone to be his one and only. Kayla’d had that chance and lost it. She didn’t begrudge Ian his.
“No, Chase. I’m not jealous of Denali.” She sat down next to her son on the couch.
“But he’s your Ian.”
She smiled and ran a hand over her son’s cropped blond hair. “That was your dad’s way of teasing me. Nothing more. Ian isn’t mine any more than I’m Ian’s.”
“I like Ian.”
“I like Ian, too, but he’s got a life beyond us.”
“We need him.”
The truth of his statement made her intestines slither. “We can get along without him. We don’t need anybody but each other.”
“Mom.” His you’re-full-of-it glare nearly had her bursting into hysterics. “Where would we have been if Ian had been on that stupid date tonight?”
“You and Pene would have been in the emergency room with me and your sister. It’d have been just fine.”
“And boring.”
“And boring. But we can do it ourselves.” She wondered who she was trying to convince. If he bought it, she might try selling ocean front property on the Strip.
He didn’t. “Whatever, Mom. I’m going to bed.” He stood, gathered his blanket and pillow. “Goodnight, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, bud.” He leaned down and she kissed his cheek.
Sitting in the dark, silence surrounding her, Kayla thought about her life. How quickly karma swung around to bite her in the ass. She only wished she knew what she’d done to warrant such a harsh backlash.
Hard Break (Deadlines & Diamonds, #5) Page 7
