Destined (Lair #4) - A.M. Madden Page 0,1

first discovered his daughter and I were kind of a thing. Like, didn’t he see it coming the day we shared our first kiss when I was ten and Alivia was nine?

“You remembered the condoms I gave you?” Dad asked, tipping the green bottle to his lips but failing to hide his smirk.

“Jeez, Dad!” I barked as Trey’s face twisted in fury. I wasn’t sure if Trey’s anger was because his son Trestan was a few feet away, playing a game on his tablet, or because Trey had it in for my dick.

“What’s a condom?” Trestan asked, proving he most definitely had been listening to every word. The kid was always getting his father in trouble by repeating a certain f-word to his mom, only for Trey to deny it. The funny thing was, every other word out of Trey’s mouth was fuck.

If at all possible, Trey’s angry glare toward my father increased in intensity, growing laser beams. “Nice.”

Dad’s response to him was a shrug before mumbling, “He’s heard worse from you.”

One thing you needed to know… my father and Trey had a very ball-busting-at-any-cost kind of relationship. This had gone on for almost twenty-five years, and now that they had matured, in age only, it had worsened.

Second, when it came to Alivia and me, Dad had a practical approach to the situation. His best friend, on the other hand, preferred to stick his head in the sand while reminding me to keep my dick in my pants.

“Ignore him, Unk. He’s just trying to get to you.”

Trey didn’t look convinced as the staredown continued. “Really?” he continued to challenge. “Maybe you should empty your pockets, Shane?”

While thinking a huge box of condoms wouldn’t fit in a tux pocket, and knowing they were safely packed in my overnight bag, I said, “They’re empty.” I sounded like a smart-ass, and along with my smirk, this caused him to scowl harder.

Fuck… is it hot in here?

From where we sat, muffled voices drifted out with a few giggles interspersed. How long did it take to get a girl ready for prom?

“You should be thrilled my son is who caught your daughter’s attention,” Dad busted further. “She could do a fuck ton worse.” Another dirty look forced Dad to add, “Ignore that, Tres.”

With a quick glance at his son, Trey leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I agree, so long as he keeps it in his pants.”

Was he serious?

That caused a spontaneous laugh to erupt from my father before he said just what I was thinking: “Says the walking dildo.”

“That’s a funny word… dildo.” I couldn’t help but laugh along with my father, and if my girlfriend’s father had had a gun on him, he’d no doubt have used it on both of us.

Trey Taylor had quite the reputation in the rock world. Some of the stories I’d heard made him a legend among guys my age.

“Former walking dildo, asshole,” Trey deadpanned in a harsh whisper. “These are our kids you’re talking about.”

“Which is why I want them to be careful. I’m not ready to be a grandfather… are you?” Dad countered, and Trey visibly shuddered. “Wake up, man. It’s prom fu—udging weekend.”

“That veer off course was impressive.”

“Thank you,” Dad said to me with a dimpled grin.

“But, Dad, you seriously need to shut up.” My words were in vain when he continued praising me. He meant well. Jack Lair had a heart of gold, encased in a perfect male package. Funny, people who didn’t know I was adopted would always say how much I looked like my dad. As a kid, it was probably our similar dark hair. Now that I was grown, the same height and body type made us even more alike.

My adopted father could be a male model, even at the age of forty-whatever. And as good looking as he was, my adopted mother was stunning. But she was always sweet and kind, where my father had this cockiness about him. Dad’s female fans went wild over him. There was an entire army of them who called themselves Lair Lovers. Years ago, until my mom won them over, they’d made her life very difficult with their opinionated posts. Because of that history, my parents went to great lengths to protect our privacy.

“Tres, can you go check to see what’s taking them so long?”

Trestan glanced up from his game. “I know you want me to leave because you’re cursing.” The kid was nine going on twenty-nine.

“Okay, then spare your old man your mom’s

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