my father’s club and Uncle Dragon despises him,” she points out and that’s when I know that the club war is bothering her more than the shit with Gabby, Dom, Thomas and Lyla.”
“It will be okay,” I promise her, and I don’t know how, but I know that it will. I will bust my ass to give that to her.
“But your club…”
“If it’s not worked out, we’ll fucking move to Kentucky.”
“You’d give up your club?” she asks, completely shocked.
“I don’t think it will come to that, but if Ford chooses to hold onto a vendetta over this, when I think Thomas plans on being a man and being here for his child, then I will have to.”
“But—”
“Baby, I don’t want to follow a man who would lead his club to war over something like this if the guy is trying to do the right thing.”
“He can’t be with Lyla if he’s in love with Gabby, Luke. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone,” she says as we walk through the door.
I put her down, letting her slide to the floor, while keeping her in my arms.
“You can support your child and not be attached to the mother, Red. People do it every day.
“Speaking of….” She stops talking, her cheeks flushing with color.
“Speaking of what, baby?” I ask, tenderly, knowing it’s something important to her.
“Well, you said you wanted me to adopt Daisy,” she says nervously.
“I do,” I respond. “I absolutely do.”
“What if her mother doesn’t want that? I mean, I know she gave you custody and all… but—”
“Carla got paid forty-grand to even have Daisy. She was going to do away with my child. I paid her money and kept her up and the minute Daisy was born, I was the only parent she ever knew. That’s the way I wanted it, that’s the way Carla wanted it and most of all that’s what was best for Daisy.”
“Where is Carla now?”
“Doing what she does best, thinking of herself, partying and fucking. It’s none of my concern now, Red, other than you know that if you want to be Daisy’s mother, you can be.”
“And that’s what you want?”
“I want it more than anything,” I answer honestly.
“Whatcha’ want Daddy? Can I have a picnic in my new room?” Daisy comes running in to ask, with timing only a small child can master.
“No food in your room, munchkin,” I laugh, letting go of Daisy to squat down to be more on eye level with my daughter.
“Aw man…” she mutters, instantly pouting.
“How would you feel if Jasmine became your mom, Daisy?”
“My mom? Like my friend Ty? He has a mom. I’ve never had one of those.”
“Do you want one?” Jasmine asks, bending down to join us.
“Would I call you mommy?” she asks, studying Jasmine.
“Only if you wanted to. If not then, that’s fine too. I like how you call me Jazz-min. I want you to call me whatever you want, Daisy. I love you.”
“I think you’d be a good mommy. You already read me bedtime stories like Ty’s mommy does and you fix me mac and cheese!”
“So, you think it would be okay if I became your mommy for real?”
“Yes! Daddy! I get to have a Mommy!”
“I know, baby.”
“And my mommy is prettier than Ty’s Mommy!”
“Uh…”
“She’s right about that, Red.”
“You haven’t even seen Ty’s mother, Luke,” Jasmine laughs, her face filled with happiness—happiness that had been missing the last few days.
“I don’t have to. I know that I have the most beautiful woman in the world, that’s all I need to know.”
“You really pick the worst times to be sweet, Luke,” she mumbles.
“You can punish me for it later,” I reply with a wink, making her roll her eyes.
“Can we celebrate Jazz-Min being my mommy with a picnic?” Daisy asks innocently.
“Let me guess, you want it in your room?” Jasmine laughs.
“I do. Can we, Mommy?” she asks. Damn it, Jasmine might have backed me up and said no food in her room until that moment. But as Jasmine and Daisy hug, Jasmine smiling at me with tears in her eyes, I know I’m having a picnic in Daisy’s new room.
I’ll probably be forced to drink soda from Daisy’s new pink plastic tea dishes.
And I don’t even care.
49
Jasmine
One Week Later
“Wow,” I gasp, as Luke pulls away from my body and moves over me.
“My baby came hard,” he purrs, his lips kissing along my neck, as his hand caresses my stomach.
“My man has a magic mouth,” I laugh, sliding the palm of my hand against the side