“Is your daughter allowed some apple pie, Poppy?” Waverly asked.
“Oh, sure. I can get her some.”
“I can share,” Waverly offered and used her fork as a knife to break off a small piece.
Tenley opened her mouth like a baby bird and Waverly fed her a piece. Holy shit, if I’d had a uterus, I’m sure it would have contracted with need.
Tenley closed her eyes and hummed like she was in heaven. “Yummy!” she squealed.
“She’s in her squealing phase,” Poppy said with a grimace. “She hasn’t learned how to dial it down a notch.”
“There’s more, darling,” Maisie said. “Mummy can get you some.”
Poppy groaned. “She won’t sleep with all that sugar.”
“She can stay here,” Hatch said, picking her up. “What do you say, baby girl? Wanna sleep over with Pop Pop?”
“Yes!” she squealed.
“I want a sleepover with Pop Pop, too!” Niall said.
“Me too,” Holland parroted.
Poppy and Devon grinned before high-fiving.
“Oh, I see what you did there,” Maisie said. “Cheeky buggars.”
“It’s not like we packed bags for them or anything,” Devon said.
Poppy grimaced, and Hatch let out a laugh asDevon rolled his eyes.
“You packed them bags?” he asked.
“Sue me for wanting a night alone with my man,” Poppy sassed. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, because you’ve been dealing—”
Hatch coughed, tickling Tenley who squealed in laughter before he set her on her feet.
Poppy, luckily, got the hint. “Um, dealing with so much work stuff, so I took a chance that maybe Mum and Dad would be good to watch the kids for the night.”
“You didn’t think to ask them, considering the fact they’ve got Raz—”
Hatch coughed again.
“Gio staying?” Devon corrected.
“Okay, what are we tryingnotto say in front of the new girl?” Waverly asked.
“Nothing, Fizzy,” I said. “It’s all good. Just some family stuff. Logistics and shit.”
“The babies are always welcome,” Maisie said. “Grab their stuff, Devon, then go have your date night. You can even take the weekend, if you like.”
“I should probably go,” Waverly said, and I immediately wanted to smack the shit out of Devon and his bad timing.
“Don’t feel like you have to rush out,” I argued.
“It’s fine.” She smiled. “There’s a lot going on, and I have a busy weekend.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, trying to distract her from the family conversation happening around us.
