Badd Daddy (The Badd Brothers Book 12)

by Jasinda Wilder

  Liv giggled, slapping my arm. “Lucas. Really. I know what you were going to say.”

  I shrugged. “I meant it as a general description.”

  Liv bit her lower lip, stifling a laugh. “I mean, she is rather prominently endowed, isn’t she?”

  “Right? That’s all I’m sayin’. Don’t mean nothing disrespectful by it.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations, you know,” Liv said.

  I swept a hand at the bar in general. “That’s about all I can identify for sure. You can guess who’s with who based on where they’re standing for the most part, but I don’t know all the women connected to my nephews, and I sure as shit don’t know the names of the forty-seven kids running around.” I winced. “Which would be my great-nieces and great-nephews. Which makes me feel old as fuck.”

  Liv shook her head. “You really do swear a lot, you know that?”

  “Does it bother you?”

  She tipped her head side to side. “I generally find it unnecessary to swear every other word. But I certainly won’t tell you what to say or not say.”

  I laughed. “But you don’t like it.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.” She smiled at me. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all. Darren was raised in a rather conservative Christian home, so he rarely swore, even though we weren’t really devout or practicing Christians, and my mother raised me to be…proper, you might say.” Her voice took on an arch, hoity-toity tone. “‘A lady has no need for vulgarity.’” She laughed. “That was her favorite phrase to use if I ever even used a word, like gosh or darn.”

  I arched my eyebrows. “So the way I talk would burn her ear hairs right off.”

  She burst out laughing, and goddamn, her laugh had a way of shooting right down south. “Oh my. Ear hairs. She would be apoplectic at the very suggestion that she had ear hair.”

  “That was a phrase Gramps liked to use. He would bust out with a long string of curse words if he got hurt or frustrated, and then talk about his sergeant in the war, who could swear fit to singe your ear hairs.”

  “Uncle Lucas!” I heard a deep, booming voice call out. “Get your ass in here, old man!” I saw Sebastian waving at me, a grin on his face.

  I headed in, more than a little hesitant, now that all eyes were on me. Even the music had stopped. “Well, shit, kids, don’t everybody stare at me all at once. Jesus.”

  That drew a few laughs, but the attention didn’t go away. Suddenly, everyone was clustering around me.

  Sebastian had slid over the bar and was standing in front of me, eye to eye; this seemed to be some kind of unspoken signal, because everyone went back to their conversations, and the kids on stage went back to playing and singing.

  “About damn time you showed up for one of these,” he said.

  I rolled a shoulder. “Well, here I am.”

  Sebastian clapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome. Seriously. We’re all glad you’re here.” He glanced at Liv. “Who’s your friend?”

  I put my hand on her lower back, drawing her forward. “This is Olivia. Liv, this is Sebastian.”

  Sebastian took her hand in his. “Call me Bast. Welcome to Badd’s.”

  “Hope it’s okay I brought her,” I said.

  Bast grinned. “The more the merrier.” He gestured at the bar. “Drinks are free for the asking, food’s laid out in the kitchen buffet-style. Help yourself, and have fun.”

  I saw Rome eying me, eying Liv, and then eyeing the taps for the beer, and I saw concern in his eyes. So, I figured I’d better get the awkward shit out of the way right off the bat. “I’ll help myself to food, but I’m sure my boy Rome may have mentioned that I have a tiny bit of a problem where booze is concerned, so I’ll just stick to water, or iced tea if you have it.”

  Bast nodded. “There’s always someone pregnant these days, so there’s as many different nonalcoholic options as there are boozy ones.” He pointed at the bar. “There’s a big ol’ Yeti over by the service bar with a bunch of different kinds of fancy bubbly water on ice.”

  “Ooh, LaCroix!” Liv said, clapping her hands. “I’ll go see what they have.”

  She headed off by herself, and I saw at least four of the women angling toward her. Sebastian chuckled. “I hope she’s ready for an interrogation. She’s about to get drilled by the Gossip Girls.”

  I chuckled. “The Gossip Girls?”

  Sebastian pointed them out as he named them. “Claire, Izzy, Tate, and Harlow.” He rumbled a gruff laugh as the four women circled Liv as she examined the contents of the cooler. “They’re always the ones who want to know everything about everyone’s business, so Zane and Rome and I have been calling the four of them the Gossip Girls.”

  “I know Izzy, and I know Tate is the one with the twin,” I said. “Which is Claire and which is Harlow?”

  He shot me a look rife with skepticism and humor. “Seriously? You don’t know who Harlow Grace is?”

  “How should I? I ain’t never met her before.”

  Sebastian laughed, scrubbing his stubble. “She’s famous, man. Like, household name famous.”

  I looked at the four women, who were now standing in a circle of which Liv was the focal point, and realized I did recognize one of them.

  “Ohhh, yeah. I remember, now. Your youngest brother, Xavier. He’s dating that actress.” I pointed at the one I recognized. “Her.”

  Sebastian nodded. “Yeah. That’s Harlow. We all call her Low.” He pointed at the tiny blonde. “That’s Claire, obviously, by process of deduction. And, just so you know, Low and Xavier got engaged last week. Pretty big news in the entertainment world.”

  I watched Liv engaging in a lively conversation, a can of…whatever she called it, something French sounding, in her hand. She had a huge grin on her face, and occasionally laughed at something one of the other women said.

  “She’s a beautiful woman, Uncle Lucas,” Sebastian said.

  I nodded. “That she is.”

  “You guys dating?”

  I shook my head. “We’re just friends.”

  He glanced at me skeptically. “Just friends don’t go to family get-togethers together.”

  I sighed. “I sort of didn’t tell her that’s what this was until just before we walked in.”

  “And she’s still here?”

  I shrugged, gesturing at her. “Obviously.”

  “She digs you.”

  I frowned at him. “Mind your business, son.”

  He growled, a deep in his chest sound. “Not your son, Uncle Lucas. Don’t much care for that term.”

  I held up my hands. “Just a phrase. Sorry.”

  He was quiet a moment. “I have a lot of questions.”

  I growled, sounding a lot like he had a moment before. “I guessed you would. This may not be the best time or place for that, though.”

  He nodded. “Agreed. I’m just saying. My brothers and I…there’s a lot we don’t know. About you, about Dad. Mom.”

  My sigh then was long, low, slow, and contained a note of pain audible even to me. “That there is a hell of a big topic, Sebastian.”

  “Call me Bast. You’re my uncle. Only strangers call me Sebastian…and my wife if she’s pissed.”

  I laughed at that. “Bast. Funny name.”

  He rolled a heavy shoulder. “Xavier couldn’t say Sebastian when he was little, so he started calling me Bast, and it just stuck.”

  I shoved my hands in the pockets of my shorts. “You guys have a good bunch of kids, here.”

  Bast nodded. “Sure do. Dru’s at the tail end of her pregnancy, as a matter of fact. Doc says it could happen in the next week or ten days.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “You’re havin’ a baby?”

  He grinned. “Yep. She’s thirty-six weeks, and doc says she’s carrying a big ol’ baby boy, so they’re thinking they may induce her early just to make it easier.”

  I felt a surge of guilt. “Damn. I didn’t even know.”

  He glanced
at me sidelong. “I can’t give you a polite response on that one.”

  I waved a hand. “I’ve been pretty self-absorbed.” I laughed bitterly. “Or, rather, avoiding all of you because I don’t know how to handle any of this.”

  “Hey, at least you’re honest.” He patted my shoulder. “Enough serious bullshit. Let’s introduce you to eleven of the most beautiful women in Alaska.”

  I laughed, following him further into the bar. “I know some of ’em. Izzy, Juneau, and Kitty, mainly.”

  What followed then was a whirlwind of introductions and conversation. I chatted with Dru, who looked like she was about to pop any day, and a breathtaking young woman named Eva, who was married to Baxter, and Claire, who was almost as foul-mouthed and inappropriate as me. I talked to Brock, the twins—both sets: my nephews Canaan and Corin, Canaan being the one who’d been playing on stage when we arrived, and their wives, Aerie and Tate. Bast made me feel welcome and at home, and at the end of an hour or two, I felt like I knew everyone by name and face, and felt a growing kinship with most of them. Liv had somehow gotten dragged into my orbit at some point, and was never far from me, although she was always engaged in lively conversation with someone, perfectly at ease. Her eyes followed me, though, as did Roman’s.

  She angled over to me when we’d been there at least an hour and a half, cornering me against the service bar, placing a hand on my forearm and disarming me with a sweet smile. “You promised me food, Lucas.”

  “My stomach is about to eat me from the inside out, I think,” I said, trying to pretend I wasn’t melting inside from the feel of her hand on my arm and the blistering heat of her sweet smile. “Sorry. I got caught up in gettin’ to know my nephews and…nieces-in-law, I think they’d be.”

  We went into the kitchen, a brightly lit industrial space of polished stainless steel. The smell of food was mouthwatering—there were trays lined up on the counter containing chicken strips, mozzarella sticks, cheeseburger patties, hot dogs, French fries, sweet potato fries, and chicken wings, each tray kept hot with those cans of fire. There was a salad bar: a bowl of mixed greens and bowls containing diced green, red, yellow, and orange peppers, carrot, cucumber, celery, and tomato slices, bacon bits, shredded chicken, and shredded cheese; there were other trays containing baked salmon steaks, grilled chicken breasts, several racks of barbecue ribs, even slices of perfectly cooked prime rib.

  Liv and I loaded up our plates, and we found spots at the bar and dug in.

  Zane was on the other side of the bar from me, sipping a dark beer, eying me. “Uncle Lucas.”

  I nodded at him. “Zane.” I gestured at the kitchen with my fork. “Hell of a spread ya’ll put out.”

  He nodded. “That would be compliments of Xavier, Ramsey, and Dru. They spend all day Saturday prepping all that food, and most of Sunday morning cooking it.”

  I blinked at him. “Ramsey?”

  Zane snorted, a small grin on his face. “Yeah, Ramsey, your son. He’s a hell of a cook.”

  I leaned back on my stool. “Ram! C’mere, boy.”

  He moved to his feet gracefully, and swaggered toward me, leaning his forearms on the back of my stool—it wasn’t actually a stool, it was a tall chair with a high back on a swiveling seat. “What’s up, Pop?”

  “I didn’t know you cooked.” I indicated Zane. “He says you help put out the spread of food in there.”

  He shrugged. “I do okay.”

  “What did you make?”

  He reached over my shoulder, stole my fork, and speared a chunk of salmon. “I do the meat. Grill the burgers, dogs, and chicken, season and bake the salmon, and the prime rib. Xavier does the fried stuff, and Dru does the salad bar.”

  I took my fork back and sampled the salmon, and then the prime rib. “Well damn, son. I had no idea.”

  He tried to hide it, but his expression darkened. “I had to learn.”

  I kept my gaze on the food on my plate, noting the sudden silence around me as those listening in to the conversation held their breaths at the subtle but definite dig at me.

  “Yeah, you did,” I said. “I never was much of a cook.”

  Ramsey’s hands tightened on the chair back. “Hard to cook when you’re wasted all the time.”

  I gripped my fork so hard I felt it bending. “Ram, c’mon. Not here, not now.”

  Liv bumped my knee with hers. “Lucas, you know…it’s none of my business, but sometimes you just have to face things head-on, whether it’s a good time or not.”

  Zane crossed his arms over his chest, and his eyes narrowed. “Well shit, then. If you’re facing things head-on, I’d like to know what the fuck happened between you, Dad, and Mom. Rome seemed to know something, but it was nowhere near as much as we deserve to know.”

  I scrubbed my face with both hands. “God fucking damn it.”

  Liv rubbed my shoulder gently. “It’s okay, Lucas.”

  “The fuck it is,” I snapped, and then sighed. “Sorry. But I been avoiding this shit for decades. And now everyone wants to know everything all at fuckin’ once.”

  Bax’s woman, tall end of medium height, incredible body, jet-black hair, green eyes, a gentle expression on her face, spoke up. “This is a lot of pressure to put on him all at once. I don’t think it’s fair.”

  I managed a wobbly grin at her. “Thanks. You, I like.”

  Zane was an immovable force. “Fair? You want to talk about fair? How about I never fucking knew I even had an uncle or three cousins. My whole life, I thought Dad was an only child. When Mom died, he went to fuckin’ hell. Shut down, willed himself to die. If you had fuckin’ been here,” he said, stabbing a finger at me, “maybe he would’ve figured out how to go on, how to keep living for his eight goddamn kids. Maybe he’d be here to be a grandpa to his grandkids.”

  “If you’d been around, maybe when he did die, we would have had you to lean on,” Bast added. “I’m with Zane on this one.”

  I found myself staring at the wall over Zane’s shoulder, at the bottles of whiskey lined up. Wishing for a drink. Almost able to taste it. My teeth gritted, and I felt the fork bend in half in my fist.

  A small warm hand touched my shoulder. “Lucas? Breathe.”

  “I’ve never wanted a drink so bad in my fuckin’ life.” I growled.

  “You don’t need it,” Liv said. “Don’t give it another thought. Just face it. Deal with it. Tell the truth.”

  “The truth sucks.”

  “It sometimes does. But you’ll feel better talking about it.”

  I stared at her. “You must be nuts.”

  She frowned. “Why would you say that?”

  “To be here? Gettin’ tossed in the middle of some seriously heavy baggage of a family you don’t know from Adam?”

  “You’re my friend, Lucas. This is what friends do.”

  “I ain’t had a lot of experience with friendship, Liv.”

  “Never too late to learn,” she said with a smile.

  I twisted on my chair, glancing in turn at the many faces watching me . There were twenty-two people surrounding me, not including Liv. All of them listening, waiting.

  I felt sick.

  “Fuck.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Fine. Here goes. I ain’t told this story in its entirety to anyone—not ever, not once.”

  The room quieted and you could hear a pin drop. I paused, thinking back, summoning the painful old memories.

  “First thing all ya’ll oughta know is that what I’m gonna tell you ain’t gonna leave your mom and dad squeaky clean. Yeah, I’m a bastard and I got a hell of a lotta skeletons in my closet, but they ain’t innocent in what went down, neither of ’em. You all want to know what happened? Fine. But don’t go jumpin’ down my throat when I tell you shit you won’t want to hear.”

  “Just tell us,” Bast growled. “We get it.”

  I let my gaze snap up to his, my eyes blazing. “You think you get it. But you don’t. You’re gonna want to take a swing at me before I’m done, I guarantee yo
u.”

  “I’ve wanted to take a swing at you since the moment I knew you existed,” Bast said. “Doubt your story will make much of a difference.”

  “Shows how much you know,” I muttered. “Anyway, here it goes. You are probably all aware that Liam and I were identical twins, as alike as you two are, Canaan and Corin. Except we never changed our appearance—we came into town once every few months for a haircut, and we got the same thing, so there wasn’t any easy way to tell us apart unless you knew us really well. We were poor, too, so we had basically the same clothes, cheap ones from thrift stores and surplus stores. We grew up by Ward Creek, out in the bush. We hunted for food, and if we missed our shot we went hungry. We pumped water from a well every day of our lives. We shit in outhouses and in the woods more often than not. Life for us was a matter of survival. We grew our own veggies, and the only way for us to stay warm was to chop wood for our fires. No gas, no electric heaters, just a fireplace. It was backwoods rough. We barely ever saw other folks than Gramps and Dad, most of the time. Mom—our mother was a local gal named Tanya. I don’t think she and our dad were ever married, and she passed on of cancer of some kind when Liam and I were three or four. ”

  I held up my bent fork, set it aside, and accepted the one Liv had been using and I took a moment to eat a few bites and wash it down with the weird-ass fancy flavored bubbly water shit.

  “None of that really matters, though. Just background. We were roughnecks, wild, barely civilized, barely educated, spent more time in the woods than in a building.” I shoved more prime rib into my mouth, and then continued. “Liam and I met Lena when we were…oh god, fifteen, just shy of sixteen? Gramps took us into town for haircuts and some supplies. Usually he’d pay for our haircuts and then give us a couple bucks to spend how we wanted, which was usually on cheeseburgers, fries, and a milkshake, ’cause that shit was a serious treat for backwoods bumpkins like us. Well, we were at our usual place up on Tongass, north o’here a ways. Ain’t there no more, and I don’t remember what it was called, just some greasy spoon kinda place. We were chowin’ down on our food, chattin’ about whatever, and then we saw her. Both of us, at the same time. She was walking past with a group of friends, but I know for me, there weren’t no one else on the street the moment I saw her.”