close with your family?”
“No. I’ve never been close with them. I have an aunt I like who lives in San Diego, but my parents… I don’t know. I was close with my dad growing up, but he got so into his own life and his music that he didn’t notice his daughter was heading in the wrong direction.”
“Wrong direction?”
“I was a bit of a rebel when they weren’t looking.”
I laugh lightly. “Weren’t we all?”
“I know Morgan was.” She snorts, shaking her head.
“That’s an understatement. So your dad’s in music?”
“Yep.” She nods. “Russell Randal.”
My eyes widen. “The drummer for Final Order?”
“That’s him.”
“You don’t have his last name?”
Shifting, she turns toward me, her legs crossed under her. “Nope. My mom didn’t want me to have his name because everyone would know who I was. Only daughter of a famous drummer, well, she wanted me to have a more private life.”
“And did you?”
“If you mean being raised by my nanny and private schools, sure.”
“But everyone still knew who you were, didn’t they?”
“Unfortunately. I only got attention because of who my parents are.”
“Something tells me that’s not entirely true.” I reach over, sweeping her hair from her neck. “I have no idea who your family is, but you still caught my attention.”
A soft laugh escapes her, and I fight through the urge to grab her by the ankles and lay her flat on the couch so I can settle between her legs. And then the urge collapses all my rational thoughts, and I do just that. “That’s because I rammed my car into the side of your building,” she says, giggling when I have her on her back.
My stomach tightens with need, and I grind my hips into hers. “Don’t say the word ramming.”
Licking her lips, she taunts me with a raise of her brow and a “fuck me” face. “Why?”
“Because you know I want it,” I breathe, my face an inch from hers. I see the smile and the overwhelming realization that I might not be able to keep her. My lips come to rest on her warm shoulder, the flames dancing on the wall behind us. Reaching down to her knee, I lift her leg higher on my waist and angle my hips into hers.
She touches my jaw, rubbing her thumb across my chin—eyes hooded and breath falling fast from her lips. “You’re… nothing like I expected.”
I don’t know what she means by that, but just before I’m about to carry her to my room, Sev comes out of their room, scratching her face. She looks at us on the couch and then where my hips are connecting with Kacy’s. Neither of us says a word or move before Sev rubs her nose. “I can’t breathe.” And then her eyes drift back to our lower half connected.
Yes, Sev, my boy parts are touching her girl parts. And if I ever catch you doing this with a boy, I’ll murder him.
“Daddy, gets off her.” She stares at Kacy. “Can yous breathe?”
“I can breathe,” Kacy giggles out, covering her face with her hands.
I love my kids.
I love my kids.
I fucking love my kids.
I think I’m trying to convince myself of this, but it’s not working. I want to tell my three-year-old to stop being a bitch baby and go back to her room.
Groaning, I push myself away from Kacy. “Told you they wouldn’t stay in their room.”
I’ve earned this right over the years.
BARRON
Monday morning, I’m thinking of ways to draw out fixing Kacy’s car because guess what? The parts are on their way. I blame Lillian for ordering them so soon. It’s all her fault. How am I supposed to close the deal if I finish her car? I need to get her alone, is what I need without the kids. I wonder if Morgan would watch them at his house. Actually, no. I’m still mad at him for last night. You want to know how the tequila went for him? He slept in the barn last night. I hope he froze his one ball off.
I stare at the coffee on my toolbox, trying to think of other options. I could… take her on a date? No, that won’t work because the girls will want to come. I mention date, and they think I’m taking them out. They give me those pretty innocent eyes, and I’ll cave. Then I’ll be taking all three girls on a date.
So a date’s out. This is going to take some time. I don’t have time though. I could