him, waves of discomfort rolled off Makenna. “No, Amy, he does not have to participate in our family ritual.” She turned to him. “Seriously, you do not have to do this.”
“Uh, if we have to, he does too, Mak. You’re the one who always says, ‘If you’re alive and at this table to eat, you have at least one thing to be thankful for.’”
“Kill me now,” Mak muttered.
Though he’d rather scalp himself then delve into his feelings in front of a horde of children, poor Mak needed to be put out of her misery. “Okay, I got this.” He frowned. When was the last time he’d thought about or expressed gratitude for something? Been a damn long while. “Um, I’m thankful for my brothers—in the motorcycle club.”
Kara stuffed a forkful of pasta in her mouth. “Why?” she asked around the food.
“Well, they accept me as I am, no matter where or what I came from.”
“Well, duh,” Risa said, attention on her food. “They’re your brothers.” She spoke as though having her family’s back was a forgone conclusion. It made him smile to know this girl would never have to question her family’s love or loyalty as he had his whole life.
Shit, this meal was making him downright sappy.
His gaze connected with Mak’s, and when she gave him a soft smile of thanks, he felt it in his soul. She didn’t speak through the remainder of the meal, letting her siblings carry the chaotic conversation. When nothing but crumbs of garlic bread and stuck-on sauce remained on the plates, Lee stood. “Up you go, Amy. We’re on dish duty.”
Makenna smiled at her brother. “Thanks, Lee.” Then she stood. “Kara, let’s go take your medicine. I’ll be right back,” she said to Thunder. “Don’t worry about Emmie, she’ll be fine there for a minute. She’s strapped in the seat.”
“Wha—” But Mak was gone with Kara two steps behind. The rest of the gang had disappeared as well, leaving him alone with the sauce-covered two-year-old who was now staring at him.
Christ, please let Makenna come back soon. Never had he felt more like a fish outta water than he did having to watch a small child, even for a few seconds. What was he supposed to do now? He sure as hell couldn’t offer her a lap dance, and that’s about all he had in his bag of tricks as far as providing entertainment.
The second Kira and Mak disappeared from sight, Emmie wiggled and began to climb out of her booster seat.
Thunder lurched forward, extending an arm though he had no chance of catching her if she fell. “Uh, kid, you allowed to do that?”
“No,” Emmie said with an impish smile.
Naughty little shit. It took all he had not to laugh. Makenna probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he reinforced the toddler’s bad behavior. Looked like he was gonna have to get up and help her. “Here, kid,” he said as he started to rise. “Let me get you.”
“No!” Emmie said with such strength, he plopped back down without thinking. “I do it by my own self.” And wouldn’t ya know, she was on the ground and toddling her chubby self his way without so much as a stumble. “Up, peez,” she said when she reached him.
He glanced around, but no one had returned.
Guess she’s talking to me.
When he held out his arms, she immediately jumped up into them, then settled herself on his lap as though she belonged there. Her big blue eyes stared at him before she yawned so wide, she nearly toppled herself over. Thunder settled his hands on her back.
Was this okay? Was this right? There were rules about touching kids, right?
Shit, what if he was fucking it all up and somehow damaged her?
He was about to suggest she get down and go find Makenna when Emmie flopped forward, face-planting against his chest. “Oh, shi—shoot. Did you hurt yourself?”
Emmie giggled and said, “Gimme a hug.”
Uhhh, was that allowed? Beth was big enough, she didn’t ask anyone to pick her up and cart her around, and she only ever snuggled with Copper.
He didn’t react fast enough. Emmie grabbed his arm and pulled it tighter around her.
Thunder tensed. What now? Were they just supposed to sit here like this?
“I tired,” Emmie said. “Sing me a song.”
What the fuck? Okay, this had gone too far. He didn’t know any kid-appropriate songs like Old Mc Whoever the fuck. All he knew were dance beats he’d ripped his clothes off to.
“Peez,” she said, blinking those