“Heh.” Like he hadn’t already tried?
“Yeah, okay, maybe not.” Bo raised his hands. “I’m not sure who to worry about more—Kit or Sloan.”
“I’m right there with ya, man.” Matt drained his cup and stood. “I should get going. Thanks for the coffee and the talk.”
“Anytime.” With a squeeze to his forearm, Bo led him out of the kitchen. “You’re coming for Emmy’s birthday on Sunday, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Matt nodded, and turning toward Emery, he ruffled her hair. “Hey, Buttercup, I gotta go. You gonna hug me goodbye?”
“Yesss.” She made a running jump into his arms and pressed a messy smooch on his cheek. “I wuv you, Unkey.”
She called all the Venery boys that. Kodiak, Brendan, and Dillon, too. The girls were her aunties. The other kids, her cousins. See, no one had to share blood to be considered family here. They just were.
What the fuck was he doing with his life? Well past noon on a Saturday, Matt plucked at his guitar, staring at the bedroom ceiling. Five months since Venery’s summer tour ended, he had little to fill his days when he was used to burning through them at full throttle. Record an album. Release it. Go on tour. Wash, rinse, and repeat. He was lucky if he was home six weeks out of the year then. But then, the label controlled them.
Not anymore, you don’t. Fuckers.
Taylor got married and put the media on blast. Venery sued the record label, won, and built their own studio. They put out a new record every year or two and cut their tour schedule down—drastically. Running on fumes, at the grueling pace they’d been going for over a decade, the boys agreed they needed a rest. If they didn’t, they’d break.
It was the right move, but since then, Matt found he had a lot of leftover time on his hands.Too much. He loved his house, but he was tired of sitting here, wasting most of his days doing nothing. Should he find a hobby? He liked to build model cars when he was a kid.Nah. Volunteer?Maybe. A project?Now, there’s a thought. Something music-related would be cool.
The bell rang. He hit the button to open it.
“About time.”
After another late night at the club, he was fucking starving.
Wearing a pair of grungy old sweats, Matt went to the door. A girl stood on the other side. Long dark hair in a ponytail, her eyes a mix of sable and green, she cocked her hip, his pizza in her hand.
He licked his lips. “You’re not Luca.”
“Nope.” Shifting her eyes, she scanned his bare torso and made a face.
“Who are you?”
“The pizza girl.” She smirked, shoving the box into his hands. “It’s gonna get cold.”
Then she turned around and skipped down his porch steps.
An urge to chase after her came over him, but he refrained.
“Hey, you got a name, pizza girl?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
What the hell?
Her ponytail swinging, she glanced back at him from over her shoulder. Shaking his head, Matt took a step inside the house.
“It’s Gina.”
She’ll be back.
And closing the door behind him, he grinned.
Six children, all under the age of four, sat at a kiddie table in the middle of Bo’s living room, having brunch to celebrate Emery’s third birthday. Pretty in pink, complete with a tiara, she looked like a princess. With fresh flowers and linens, Ava and Katie had the place looking like an English tea party. Cute and whimsical, it made for some pretty pictures, but what made them think kids that small would sit still long enough to take any, Matt would never know.
Declan was only a toddler, for chrissakes. Ireland was just taking her first steps. And at two months old, Charlotte couldn’t sit at all yet. Linnea had to hold her up for the photos. But this was the first birthday Bo got to have with his little girl, and the first one for Emery without her mother, so he got it. This party was as much for him as it was for his daughter.
