known Cali long, but damn, this kid is all her. “You want me to have a tea party with you, kid?”
She looks down at the empty cup in front of her, lifts it up and brings it to her lips. “Yes,” she says before taking her first pretend sip. With her free hand, she pulls out the tiny little chair beside her. She does realize half of one of my ass cheeks wouldn’t fit on that thing, right? Actually, my ass crack might just swallow it. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? “It’s rude for you to ignore an invitation.” Definitely Cali. I groan a little as I stand up, feeling the one hour of work I did on that site this morning tearing at my damn back. “You sound like my grandpa.” Tyler snickers at her own fantastic joke. What a little brat. That’s all Tango.
I slowly make my way over to the tiny table with the tiny chair to sit with the tiny little girl with a big attitude. She pulls the chair out a little farther and taps her hand against the plastic, motioning me to sit.
“Okay, okay. I’m going,” I tell her.
I gently place an eighth of my weight down on the seat and rest my knee on the other side of it. Tyler shoves a small teacup in my face, and I take it from her hand. “Drink up,” she demands.
I press the thing up to my lips and make a fake slurping sound. “Wow, is this your own recipe?” I ask her.
She looks at me with a raised brow. “You don’t make tea. It’s in a bag. Dummy.”
“Hey now, no name calling,” I say to her with an awkward laugh. Should I be disciplining Tango’s kid? Where is Sasha? I’m not a kid person, clearly. I’d probably be swearing up a storm to my kid if I had one. His or her first word would most definitely be “shit” or “fuck”. The thought makes me laugh a little. Yeah, not happening.
“You call Daddy names,” she says, closing her eyes and taking another sip.
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling and nod my head, totally at a loss for words. Can’t say she’s wrong.
“How’s the tea, kids?” Sasha asks, turning back around the corner. “Tyler, is that your special English Tea?”
“Of course it is,” she says, crooning to Sasha.
“Where are your famous cookies then?” Sasha continues.
“Well,” she cups her hand around her mouth. “There’s no oven here, so we just have to stick with the tea today.”
“You babysit often?” I ask Miss Perfect.
“Sasha is my best friend,” Tyler interrupts. “So if you’re trying to take her from me, go find another friend.”
Oh my God, this kid is something else.
“She does have a point. I shouldn’t be going around having more than one friend. It’s not right,” Sasha says with a wink.
“Okay, tea is over, you can go back over there now,” Tyler says, snatching the cup from my hand. She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Or…maybe she does. Shit, I can’t get up. I press my hands to my knee and push myself up to my feet. Another sharp pain in my back reminds me that I shouldn’t have gotten down onto that chair or helped Tango with that house build today. The workouts I do at the gym have nothing on putting up siding.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Sasha asks.
“Yeah, yeah,” I laugh. “I think I pulled something today. I might need someone to rub it.”
Ignoring my comment, she curls her hand around my arm, helping me straighten up. “Do you need to see a doctor?”
“I’m close enough to a doctor,” I laugh. “I’m fine, really.”
“A doctor can’t treat himself,” she argues.
“Oh no?”
“You should really go see someone,” she tells me with her hand still looped around my arm. Her hands are so small in comparison to any of my limbs. I kind of like it.
“You’re right, I should,” I agree to appease her. Taking the few steps back over to the chair I was sitting in, I get a little enjoyment from the fact that she doesn’t remove her hand until I’m settled back into the seat.
She takes the seat next to mine and twists to face me. “Who are you really, Jags?”
Her question surprises me a bit, for more than one reason. “What happened to the mister part of my name?”