“I’ll have to play it by ear,” Donovan said as if to himself. “I won’t let him close enough to hurt you, but anything I do will be in defense of the kids and us.”
My hand automatically reached for his thigh, subconsciously looking for comfort, and I whispered, “I’m so sorry about this.”
His fingers caught mine, and he splayed them together. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. It’s not your fault your ex is throwing a tantrum. He’s a grown ass man who turned up at your door—uninvited—and then made the very stupid decision to get into it with DJ. If he thinks I’m letting that slide, he’s crazy. We’ve got this, okay?”
I glanced at him and murmured, “Okay,” before squeezing his fingers tightly.
A few minutes later, we drove down the dirt road that led to my place, and I immediately spotted Evan’s shiny green CR-V parked behind DJ’s old blue Chevy truck down the side of the house. I almost let out a snort at how sparkling clean my ex’s vehicle was, remembering how he took better care of his damned truck than he ever did me.
My eyes fell on Evan, who stood on the porch, leaning against the post with his arms folded across his chest, watching us pull up with his eyes narrowed to slits.
Donovan shifted his truck into park and killed the engine, then braced both hands on the steering wheel while his neck swiveled to me. “You ready, Posy?”
I stared at Evan and gave a determined nod. “Let’s go.”
Donovan threw his door open, jumped out, and rounded the hood, and by the time I opened my door, he was there, ready to help me down. He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me under his huge bicep so securely that his forearm hung down my chest. Turning toward the house, we marched to the front door—well, Donovan marched; I had to power walk just to keep up.
Evan’s stare tracked our every step, and I watched his expression turn into a sneer. “About fuckin’ time,” he called over to us. “I see you’ve brought your rottweiler.”
I felt Donovan’s body tense around me, but he chuckled. “Been called worse.”
“I bet,” my ex-husband muttered, watching closely as we ascended the porch steps and came to a halt a foot away from him. Evan looked Donovan up and down. “So I’m guessing you’re the asshole I spoke to on the phone? The latest in a long line of Rosie’s fuck buddies.”
I cocked a bored eyebrow. “Donovan and I have known each other for years, which means he also knows that what you’ve just said is bullshit. Now stop the petty dramatics. Cut to the chase and tell me why you think it’s okay to turn up at my door unannounced and more importantly, why you’re fighting with DJ?”
He leaned forward and spat, “I wanna see my kids, and I wanna know why my attorney just told me that you’re taking me to court to rearrange the custody agreement. As for DJ, he needs to learn some damned manners. You may let him get away with disrespecting his parents, but I won’t.”
“Daniel Junior doesn’t disrespect me,” I threw back. “But then again, I don’t give him reason to, and as for you wanting to see the kids, you can tell by the fact they’ve locked themselves in the house and refuse to come out that DJ and Gabby don’t want to see you. The instant your bitch of a girlfriend abused our daughter, and you subsequently did nothing about it, our custody agreement went under review.” I smiled at him, saccharine sweet.
He looked me up and down that time, his face twisting as if I was some kind of bad smell. “God, you’re bitter. What the fuck did I ever see in you?”
My lips twitched, and I popped a hip. “Weird that, considering you’ve consistently begged me to give your cheating ass another chance ever since I threw you and your dirty dick out of my house for sticking it where it didn’t belong.”
Donovan let out a humor-filled snort.
“Must’ve been off my rocker,” Evan muttered.
“Agreed,” Donovan fired out. “Never understood why some assholes wanna go out and ride in a clapped-out Honda when they’ve got a hot GMC waiting in the garage at home.”
It wasn’t lost on me that Evan drove an old Honda CR-V while Donovan’s truck was a top-of-the-line, brand-spanking-new GMC Denali.
I twisted my neck and peered up at my guy. “Did you just compare me to your truck?”
He peered right back down at me. “Babe. My truck’s sexy as fuck. She’s the hottest truck in town.”
My bright smile flashed across my face, and I shrugged. “True dat.”
Donovan grinned and dropped a kiss on my upturned nose before turning back to Evan. “I suggest you say your piece and get the fuck outta here. Me, Ro, and the kids have got shit to do.”
Evan pulled away from the porch post. “I’m not goin’ anywhere until I talk to my son and daughter.”
I rolled my eyes and yelled, “Gabby! DJ! Your dad’s here. Wanna come out and say hi?”
Silence.
“Kids!” I bellowed louder that time. “Give me a sign of life, please...” My voice trailed off because two things happened at once.
First, I heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance. Twisting my neck, I peered over my shoulder—and Donovan’s tattooed arm—to see Atlas’s truck speeding toward the house.
