I turn, slowly pulling my tank top up and over my head, dropping it to the tiled floor. It leaves me standing in nothing but a simple pair of hot pink panties.
His nostrils flare. “You don’t play nice.”
“I don’t,” I reply, smirking as I pile all my hair up into a knot on top of my head, “but if you can’t handle the game, then get the hell off the field.”
Brody runs his gaze down the length of me before flicking back up, his eyes intense and hot. “Never.”
Brody
I jog down the stairs to the kitchen, the image of a half-naked Jordan still imprinted in my vision. I love my two little girls but they seriously need to work on their timing. I need to fuck my wife.
Soon, I tell myself. I wasn’t making empty promises when I told her tonight. My brother-in-law is arriving for his four-week annual holiday this afternoon and jetlag or not, he’s taking care of the twins. Nicky won’t mind. He adores the girls. They have him wrapped around their little fingers. Me, not so much. Our relationship has travelled a long and rocky path, especially after the hell I put his sister through, but the arrival of Hadley and Avery won him over. We’re a solid family unit now, and Jordan’s never been happier. Of course I like to think I have a lot to do with that. Making her happy is my number one priority, and I know Nicky sees that.
Usually his visits find us out on the back deck with beers in hand, manning the grill while arguing over the merits of football versus soccer, but not tonight. I’m whisking my wife away for a surprise night in the city at a fancy hotel. Dinner, a cabaret performance, and then me, and so help me god if she snores through the show like she did the last time I organized a night out, I’m going to cry like a fucking baby.
Thor and Jon Snow scramble when I hit the bottom step and the fight is on to see who reaches me first. Jon Snow wins and he treats the backs of my calves to little licks as I make my way into the kitchen.
“Daddy!” Hadley screams from the living area. “I want chocolate chips in mine!”
“Me too!” Avery shrieks.
“Okay,” I call back, willing to give them whatever they want if it shuts them up for even a minute.
I make a quick detour to the French doors that lead out onto the back deck. The dogs spin in circles while I pour food in their bowls. Jordan taught them to chase their tail for a treat. Now every time they get something to eat they orbit each other until I’m sure they’re going to pass out.
When I reach the kitchen a knock comes at the door. Seriously? It’s Saturday morning, and early.
“I’ll get it,” Hadley cries out, excitement in her voice. Any visitor is a good visitor in her eyes, and if she gets to show them her princess pony collection, it makes them a great visitor.
“You will not answer that door, Haddie,” I call back sternly as I head her off at the pass. She grumbles but walks back to Avery, settling on the floor but keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the door.
Twisting the handle, I swing the door wide. Annabelle is standing on the front porch, arm up and ready to knock again. Over her shoulder I see my mother reversing out the drive, not bothering to stop in and say hello.
My parents separated not long after I left the hospital. Mom and Annabelle moved to Houston at my little sister’s insistence. Liam (I don’t call him my father anymore) moved on to a bigger house with a younger woman, his political career soaring despite the drug scandal overtaking the news for weeks. I don’t talk to him. I barely talk to my mother. During my counseling sessions with Doug, I was told forgiveness is the key to moving forward with my life, but it’s a stretch.
At the least I can understand why they are the way they are. I’m not Liam’s son. Married to my mother, he was trapped into raising me, and he did it the same way his father raised him—with harsh words, a violent temper, and constant disapproval. I know my mother loved him once. She told me that years ago after one too many glasses of wine. But their marriage came second to his career and over time it molded my mom into the cold, bitter woman she is today.
I did learn something from them though. I learned how important it is to define myself, rather than let other people define me. I learned that no one is perfect. I learned how to find strength to pick myself up off the ground when I fall, and to embrace my own future in all its uncertainty.
I learned how important it is to raise my girls with acceptance. I want them to succeed in whatever they choose to do, but I also want them to fail and learn how to get over it. I want them to feel free to be themselves, and to ignore those that don’t accept them for who they are.
In our house there’s laughter and joy, and tears and tantrums, but most of all there’s love. Our lives are perfectly imperfect, just how they’re supposed to be.
“Aunt Moo Moo!” Hadley shrieks.
Both girls scramble off the floor and race for the door. My sister is instantly surrounded by screaming little banshees. She crouches and hugs them close.
“Pick me up,” Hadley demands.
“Me first,” Avery argues.
I grin down at Annabelle. “They’re all yours,” I tell her and make a quick escape for the kitchen, going straight for the coffee. Eventually my sister untangles herself, and after visiting their bedrooms and dispensing loving pats to Thor and Jon Snow, she settles into a seat at the breakfast counter to watch me flip pancakes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, pouring fresh batter into the pan.
“It’s your big game today. Like I’d miss it.”
Nervous twinges fill my stomach. “It’s just a football game.”
“It’s not just a football game,” she argues as I check underneath the pancake to see it browning nicely. “This is the beginning of a whole new level in your career. Everyone is coming to watch. I can’t wait.”
After flipping it, I look up, my jaw set. “Who’s everyone?”
Like my words are a catalyst, another knock comes at the door. The twins commence their excited shrieks and the dogs race from their lazy spot in the sun to the front entryway. Somehow a ball gets thrown and breaks the lamp in the corner. Avery starts to cry. And all before I’ve even left the kitchen.
The front door opens, bringing Eddie, Jaxon, and Carter inside.
“What the hell is going on?”
My gaze shifts to the stairs and lust punches me in the gut. Jordan’s ready and her gaze is taking in the chaos where moments earlier there was peace. Skinny jeans wrap around her long legs, and a black blouse—one that’s entirely too low cut so she’ll have to change—shows off the cleavage she’s so proud of. Tousled waves spill over her shoulders and the dark crap around her eyes makes the blue in them burn brighter. My wife is fucking hot.
“Come here,” I order.
But Avery’s already running for her, her little arms wrapping around her mommy’s legs, the same ones I want wrapping around me right now. “Mommy, Haddie stole my football!”
“I did not!” Hadley yells, running over to my friends and telling them all about the banana pancakes she’s having for breakfast. She then throws me under the bus by telling them I’m adding chocolate chips.
I don’t miss the narrowing of Jordan’s eyes, but Eddie saves me by leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. Then he reaches down and grabs Avery, picking her up. “What’s going on, sweet stuff?” he asks her, settling her on his hip. He scoops the football up with his free hand and herds both twins outside along with Annabelle.
Meanwhile I watch Jaxon and Carter take turns in kissing my wife. “Are y’all done there?” I growl.
“Not quite.” Jaxon grabs Jordan by the hips, pulling her toward him with a smirk. She lets out a little shriek when he dips her. Her hands grab at his shirt, clinging so she doesn’t fall. “Did I hear banana was on the breakfast menu this morning?” he says, a grin on his face as he looks down at her.