The Best Thing - Mariana Zapata Page 0,29

know about that.

I pinned him with a look when he just kept standing there looking way too passive-aggressive. I shook my head. “Seriously, Gramps, cut it out. Whatever you’re planning on saying or doing, don’t.”

I held up Mo right off my lap. “Please. Do it for her. Look at those big brown eyes. I kept it a secret because I didn’t want anyone here to know who her deadbeat dad is,” I tried to plead with him, pressing my lips against the top of her full head of hair since she was already right there. She smelled just like the almond soap we used, even though it had been two days since the last bath I’d given her.

He didn’t say anything but still just stood there looking way too broody in his olive-green khaki pants and button-down, long-sleeved shirt with a sweater pulled on over it as he finally peeled the carrier off. He called it his uniform for taking care of an eight-month-old baby, because it was important work. And you dressed for the job you wanted, he claimed.

Seriously, there was a reason we put up with his shit.

But if he wanted to be a pain in the ass, and he did, well, I could play dirty too.

“I didn’t say anything because it’s easier when the person who didn’t want you doesn’t feel like they actually exist.”

He hesitated for a moment before folding the carrier and setting it on top of the chair where he’d set the baby bag. I could see his eyes narrowing again. His mouth moving.

But he settled for a sighed. “Are you trying to guilt trip me?”

I smirked as I rested my cheek on Mo’s head as I set her back down on my lap. “Yeah.” Who did he think he was talking to?

I was positive pride flashed across his eyes even as he made another face. And his answer confirmed it.

“Continue,” he muttered.

I fucking laughed, brushing my mouth across the back of her soft head full of hair and soaking up her scent like a crackhead. I missed her so much while I was at work. If I didn’t know without a doubt that she was in the best hands capable—better hands than my own—leaving for Maio House on a daily basis would have been the hardest thing in the world. “You know, I really wish I could go back in time to meet your mom and ask her if you came out special or if someone hurt you and made you like this.”

His smart-ass expression didn’t move, but I could see the hint of a smirk curl up the corner of his mouth. “Wonderful? Amazing?” He crossed his arms over a chest that hadn’t lost too much of his muscle over the years. “A one of a kind?”

He was joking back with me. That was good.

“A one-of-a-kind something.”

He sniffed, but I could tell he was thinking when he didn’t give me any back talk.

Realistically, I knew he could and would stay mad. He was going to bring this up for the rest of my life, and I didn’t expect any less. But I knew without a doubt that mad at me or not for keeping a secret, for telling him that he couldn’t act a fool when the need ran so strongly in him, he was still going to do the right thing. Because that was what he’d taught me.

To do the right thing.

Most of the time at least.

So when he sighed in the middle of me sniffing Mo’s neck while she giggled, I figured he’d come to some sort of decision. “We’ll do this your way, Elena.“ He rolled his eyes just in case the sighing hadn’t been enough.

I raised my eyebrows at him calling me my first name. Was he that mad? The side look he slid me said yup.

“Let me talk to Peter, and then The General and I will get out of here. I told her we’d go for a walk at the park today while you stay and work,” he countered, rubbing it in that I was stuck here while they got to spend time together.

But I deserved it, and I’d take it.

I nodded. “All right.”

He barely glanced at me as he headed back out onto the floor, really confirming just how mad he was. Oh well. It should have been a miracle he wasn’t rallying his gang of Grandpas on Scooters to find out where Jonah was to go run his ass over.

Shit. He might be waiting

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