Baby Daddies - Tara Brown Page 0,49

where Eli rolls around like a dog and chews on toys while drooling and sputtering. And for some reason this makes Matt happier than anything I’ve seen before.

This is the point where every person in my life would take the baby from the gathering.

But breakfast is intimate and close. Friends and family.

Bev sits next to Jenny and gushes about her hair now that it’s wet from the shower and so long it sits on her lap.

Nat’s mother still has something lodged in her ass, but her eyes flicker to me and Jenny every now and then. I have no idea what she’s thinking but I’d guess it’s bad.

Mike sits next to me and nudges my ribs. “You have color in your face today, Eckelston. Feeling better, bud?”

“Shut up, Mike,” I mutter and pass him the waffles.

“I will not. In fact, I’m enjoying every second of this.” He moves closer, smirking like a jerk. “Welcome to hell,” he whispers so Liz can’t hear him.

I laugh bitterly and nod. “Thanks, man.”

“So, Lawrence, is this a family home?” Mrs. Banks asks as we start to eat.

“I guess it is now,” I say with a laugh and glance at Jenny who frowns at me, making me smile wider. “Actually, I bought it a while ago.”

“Good for you. So nice to see young people using their inherited wealth to make smart investments, instead of frivolously living high on the hog and wasting money.”

It’s similar to being stung by a jelly fish who smiles at you as she does it. And I’m not the only intended target.

Nat’s stare pleads with me to behave myself.

But it’s Jenny who speaks before we can anticipate it, “Oh, he didn’t inherit his wealth.” Jenny pauses cutting her waffles and uses her work-Jenny voice which reeks of authority and firmness, “We were all talking about this the other night. I didn’t know this either, but Lori’s been investing and making money since he was a boy. He didn’t take money from his family. He earned it and played the stock market using tips he stole by following his grandfather’s portfolio.” She laughs as if that’s absurd.

But it works.

Nat’s mom smiles, genuinely. “You must be joking.” Her eyes flicker to mine.

“Oh—uh—no.” God I hate this moment, even if it began with Jenny defending me.

“Oh, don’t be so bashful, Lori. Tell Mrs. Banks how you bribed your father’s friends to do the investing for you when you were eleven by sharing the investment tips with them,” Rich says with a tormenting smile, enjoying this too much.

“How clever,” Mrs. Banks is impressed and I’m no longer some lazy trust-fund brat.

“My dad never thought so,” I offer, playing it down.

“Why did you do it?” She isn’t letting this go and now everyone’s listening.

“Hockey.” I glance at Matt because he knows how it is. “My family thought being an athlete was a joke. I was allowed to play hockey as a little kid.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Banks offers a girlish smile that will haunt me for a while.

“My parents tried to force me to go to the private school they wanted. It didn’t have hockey. So I chose my own and was accepted into Notre Dame and paid my tuition.” The memory brings back some of the pride I felt when I told my grandfather what was happening. “My father was outraged. He said I was acting like he couldn’t afford the tuition and demanded to pay. That got my ass up more, so I never took money from them after that.”

“Well, your parents might not find that admirable or be proud, but I am,” Sami’s dad cuts in. “You’re an upstanding young man, Lawrence. And we have always thought so.”

Sami’s mom nods along.

“Thank you, Mr. Ford.” My face heats under the scrutiny and I lower my gaze, not fast enough though, and I catch a glimpse of Brady making a jerk-off motion. Which is exactly the response I need.

Fortunately, the breakfast talk moves on.

When it’s over, it’s finally time for the parents to leave. Jenny takes a nap alone while I suffer a type of gratitude I’ve never experienced. Between Brady’s mom, sister-in-law, and Nat’s parents I hear the word “thank-you” more than I have in my life.

I’m grateful when they board their different planes and leave us all standing on the tarmac of the Martha’s airport.

“Oh my God, it’s over,” Sami sighs and Nat hugs her tightly.

Matt’s aged about five years in the last six months.

Brady’s got a stunned sort of expression, perhaps feeling the