Bronco (EEMC #1) - Bijou Hunter Page 0,15

friend’s place for the weekend. That way, she wouldn’t have to meet my stripper whore and our dumpster baby.

“I fucked her in a car, not in an alley,” I told my oldest daughter. “I can find a picture of her vehicle model if you need help visualizing the conception.”

Horrified by my comment, Summer shut up and agreed to stay home for the weekend. “I’m not talking, though.”

“You’re never more charming than when silent.”

Summer stormed off, but she does that every day anyway. I took her choice to stick around this weekend as a win.

Sidonie was the one who nearly did me in. She came home from school on Friday and immediately started asking a million questions that I didn’t know the answers to. What is Lana Maude’s birthday? Does she eat peanuts? Was Lana Maude good at school? What’s her favorite color? That went on for hours.

Then she refused to let me out of her sight, even standing outside the bathroom when I had to piss and demanding I did the same when she needed to go.

“What if she’s mean to me?” Sidonie finally screamed around midnight. Crying as if her heart was breaking, she wailed on the top of her lungs. “She’s going to make me move away!”

I had to hold her in my lap like I did when she was a baby. Sidonie always gets so wound up on things until there’s no reasoning with her.

“I love you,” I said when she clung to me. “No woman will change that. No new baby will make me love you less. I didn’t stop loving Summer when you came into my life.”

“But she has a daughter,” Sidonie whimpered. “She’s going to hate me and want me to leave.”

“This is your home. Lana Maude is just visiting. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

A part of me always wants to shake the sanity back into this sweet child’s head, but only tenderness soothes her easily bruised heart.

“Of course. You’re never moving out of this house. You’ll live here until you’re old and I’m senile. You can change my diapers.”

Sidonie giggled against the crook of my neck. “I will, Daddy. I promise.”

We finally got to sleep around three, and only after she wore herself out with another tantrum about how Lana Maude would kill the baby. That crying fit led to her crashing hard in my bed.

This morning, she’s still riled up. She wrestles with me at the door when Lana arrives. Bambi and Barbie refuse to help. Summer finally gives her old man a hand by holding Sidonie back long enough for me to greet Lana.

Even exhausted and on edge, I take a moment to admire this woman. She’s wearing a gray tee and light blue jeans. Even though she isn’t dressed up at all, I can’t take my eyes off her.

If Lana’s nervous, she hides it better than she did when I came to that grandma house in Shasta. Her mom is a good-looking woman with Lana’s thick blonde hair, a sexy smile, and lots of curves. Desi is a skinny little thing with a big smile. They're a beautiful family, and I want to make them feel at home. If Lana isn’t comfortable, she won’t return. Then I’ll have to drive down to Shasta and deal with the Reapers to see my daughter. That’s not my idea of fun.

But my family is doing their fucking damnedest to make today impossible. My sisters start arguing with Lineke over some bullshit. Sidonie won’t stop yanking on me, and then she refuses to let Desi play with Uno. Shit’s a mess, but I’ve never been any good at keeping women in order. I was basically raised by Bambi and Barbie. The bitches run roughshod over me day and night. My girls own my heart, so telling them no always kills me.

Fortunately, Rooster offers to make coffee. Since Bambi can’t handle him fucking up a pot of joe, she stops arguing with Lineke. Soon, we’re in the house. Things are looking up. Though I do notice Lana’s reaction when Sidonie shuts down Desi’s attempt to play with the dog.

I’m walking a tightrope here. If I push Sidonie too hard, she will lose her shit. If I don’t, Lana will think my daughter is a brat. I don’t put on airs with people. I never fake shit. I rarely have visitors outside of the club. Normally, Summer, Sidonie, and my sisters live a casual life. With them thrown out of their groove, I brace myself for the

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