Craving Cecilia - Nicole Jacquelyn Page 0,93

her skin like no one else I’d ever met, but I also envied her confidence. Of course, she would feel comfortable in the Aces clubhouse—my grandpa had been the president before he was killed—but her ability to stride into a room and make it her bitch didn’t end at the gates.

Brenna strode up as Aunt Callie gave Amy a turn holding Olive.

“Hey, doll,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“Even if I bring doom and destruction with me?” I asked dryly. I couldn’t help myself. Brenna had always been kind to me, but I sometimes wondered if it was all a show to keep the peace. She had to get along with my mom and aunt, not only because their men worked so closely together, but also, she was my brother’s mother-in-law. But she was also Leo’s mom—and I wasn’t exactly kind to him when we were kids, especially after the shooting.

Brenna let out a little noise of surprise and leaned back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “Hell, honey,” she said with a little chuckle. “Everyone else has done it at one point or another, myself included—I’d say you’re due.”

I couldn’t help the startled laugh that fell out of my mouth.

“I know you’re always nervous when you come back here,” she said quietly. “But don’t be. You belong here as much as anyone else, okay? You keep your chin up and don’t take any shit.”

“Okay,” I whispered, so quiet I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me until she winked and nodded in approval.

“Introduce me to your daughter,” she said, letting go of me as she turned toward Amy.

“This is Olive,” I said, unable to keep the pride out of my voice.

“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Brenna said, leaning down to run a fingertip along the top of Olive’s hand. “What a sweetheart. How’s she sleeping?”

Aunt Callie laughed. “We always ask that,” she said, shaking her head. “Like it matters.”

Brenna chuckled and glanced at me. “That’s true,” she said, grinning. “It doesn’t matter if she’s sleeping a ton or keeping you up at all hours. She’s still a good baby, either way, and I promise it doesn’t last forever.”

“I think it’s just a roundabout way to ask the mama if she’s gettin’ enough rest,” Amy said, swaying from side to side. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help, if you aren’t,” she said to me. “There’s plenty around here that’ll hold her for a while if you need a nap.”

“Shit’s been so crazy,” Mark said from behind me as he slid an arm around my waist. “Don’t know if this one’s rested since she gave birth.”

“Well, that’ll change now,” Aunt Callie said. “I can’t imagine not having a home base while the kids were newborns. It’s good you’re home.”

The conversation continued and I was thankful for Mark’s arm around me as my mind wandered. Aunt Callie was wrong—I still didn’t have a home base. I didn’t have a home. The clubhouse wasn’t somewhere I could stay indefinitely, and I knew without a doubt that I couldn’t stay with my parents, either. They would let me—no doubt about that—but I refused to move back into that house. The thought of sleeping with the scene of the shooting right outside my window made me want to barf.

“You ready for bed?” Mark said quietly into my ear.

I nodded. “Hey, Brenna, where should me and Olive sleep?”

Brenna looked from me to Mark, then rolled her lips in to keep from smiling.

“She already set us up in a room,” Mark said. “I’ll show you which one.”

“Oh, we’re sharing, are we?” I asked, more to tease him than because I cared. I was actually thankful that he’d be close.

“That’s right,” Amy said proudly. “Make him work for it.”

“You should be on my side,” Mark replied, acting thoroughly betrayed.

“Girl power,” Amy replied simply.

I laughed as Amy handed Olive back to me.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” I told the women. “Well, later in the morning.”

“Sounds good,” Aunt Callie said with a smile.

Mark threw his arm over my shoulder as he led me across the room toward the archway that led to the back hallway. As we passed the table where Will was sitting with Molly in his lap, talking to Tommy and Heather, I waved but didn’t make eye contact—I was too worn out to actually engage in conversation with anyone else.

“Was it as bad as you thought it’d be?” Mark asked as he led me into the room we were staying in.

“No,”

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