“I love boy talk.” Stella leans forward on the bar with a grin. “Do you have a picture? Are you friends? Or is Tyler something more?”
Holly shoots a look at Stella, then very obviously nods her chin toward me. I hold my coffee in one shaking fist and point a finger first at Stella and then at Holly.
“No boys. Ever. Not until you’re twenty-one. Make that thirty-one.”
“Dad!” Holly rolls her eyes. “I’m talkingabouthim. Not to him. I don’t even think he knows I exist.”
“Oh, he knows.” My nostrils flare as I practice my anti-boyfriend snarl.
Daisy shakes her head. “Dad, you’d like him. He has a job. He works at the mall, and he’s, like, really nice.”
“You’re still in junior high.” I raise a brow so high I can practically feel it hit my scalp. “How the hell do you know a high school senior, Daisy?”
Stella’s eyes go wide. “I think that’s my cue to excuse myself.”
“Daisy.” I poke my finger even harder against thetop of the bar. “Answer me. How do you know this boy?”
She rolls her eyes even more dramatically than her sister did. “I don’t know him, Dad. He’s Holly’s friend. All I know is what Holly told me. And what she’s shown me.”
“Shown you?” I practically squeal the words. I don’t think I’ve hit an octave that high since I took a billy club to the nuts during a fight my first run inside. “Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand. “You’re grounded for eternity.” I turn to Stella. “What do you know about homeschooling?”
Both girls are laughing, and Holly clutches her phone to her chest like I’m joking.
I’m one hundred percent fucking serious.
The last time I went to prison, I was away for over a year. If you don’t think you miss out on a lot in a year with kids, let me be the one to tell you you’re wrong.
A year is a fucking eternity when it comes to little ones.
While I was away, Holly developed some minor food allergies. Daisy went through a phase where she refused to take baths. They had nightmares, growth spurts, friends, and talents. And I missed it all.
I worked hard to make up for lost time—not that it felt like work. These girls are the only thing I’ve done right in my life. That and building this club.
I have brothers who would kill and die for me, and I’d do the same for them. I have a home and plans. Money in the bank and more stability than an asshole like me ever thought possible.
Ever since that last stint inside, I haven’t gone more than a couple of days without seeing the girls, without knowing their friends, their schedules, what they like to eat, and what they listen to.
The only thing I don’t know anything about is this pissantTyler.
Before I lay into the kids about the nunnery as an alternative to public school, Savage approaches the bar, his expression deadly serious.
“We got a problem,” he says cryptically.
I have a feeling I know what the problem is.
“Keep it contained. I’ll be right there.”
Holly and Daisy don’t seem to be paying attention, but Stella is.
She puts a hand on my arm. “Do they like pancakes?” she asks.
I nod. “Girls, I’m starving. You feel like going into the kitchen and making pancakes with Stella? I’m in the mood for chocolate chips.”
Daisy is off her stool in two seconds. “Yes,” she squeals, her excitement so adorable, I almost forget the Tyler problem.
There’s an even bigger problem outside, and this is one Iwillprotect my kids from.
“Holly.” I nod at my eldest. “Go on into the kitchen for a bit. You can even have a cup of coffee if you want it, but just one cup.” I’m bribing her, but I could give a shit if she goes on in.
