“Are you white?” Amare asked.
Noble turned his head, snickering on the low. It took so much for Irish to hold her laugh in, but she managed.
“Um, no. I’m not white. Both of my parents are actually Black.”
At least that’s what Daisy told her. Irish had never met her father. Didn’t know what he looked like or hadn’t even heard his voice. The only details she was privy to was that he was a hustler who got locked up but Daisy didn’t keep in contact with him. He’d disappeared before she was born.
“She don't even look white,” Noble said after getting his chuckles out. “Where y’all get that from?”
“Amare said it, not me.” Kenji laughed.
Amare shrugged. “I thought she was white.”
Irish leaned toward Noble’s ear and whispered, “I really hope my genes fight back.”
He smirked at her. “I don't think so, Pumpkin. The St. Anthony genes strong as hell.”
Irish immediately thought about Noble’s brothers who also looked like him. While they shared small talk, the boys colored on the kid menus. When the drinks arrived, they then conversed about the Marvel universe and Call of Duty games.
“So, I got an email today from my realtor.”
She waited for him to show some kind of concern, but he continued sipping on his soda.
“She said the cash offer was accepted. Do you know where that may have come from?” Irish narrowed her eyes at him.
Noble simpered before licking his kissable lips. “What you want me to say?”
Giving him a knowing look, she replied, “I thought I told you I wanted to do this on my own.”
Noble rubbed his hand down his waves and looked her square in the eyes. Even after all this time, his gaze still casted a spell on Irish.
“I know but I have to take care of you, Irish. It’s in my DNA to take care of the people I love. Your name will still be on the deed, but I had to make sure you didn’t worry about a mortgage payment. Let me be your man and handle shit for you.”
Irish wasn’t this hyper-independent woman who cursed men for doing for her. Jovanis had taken care of her most of her adult life. She loved having a man who wanted to care for her; she just needed to feel as if she had done something on her own. Irish understood that it was a slight insecurity she needed to part ways with.
“Can you do that?” Noble quizzed. “Let me take care of you?”
Smirking, Irish nodded. “Sure, but I really don't think I have a choice in this matter.”
“You don't, especially when you carrying something that belongs to me.”
That made her smile broaden. Each time she thought about the life brewing in her body, it gave her a sense of peace.
“Irish, do your kids have orange hair?” Amare asked.
“Um, I don't have kids.”
At the moment…
Kenji gasped. “You don't have kids? All women have kids.”
“No, they don't,” Noble interjected. “Some adults don't have children, G.”
“Uncle Zayd and Uncle Wilde don't have kids,” Amare stated in a condescending tone.
“Shit, Wilde might have some that he don't know of,” Noble mumbled.
Irish snickered, bumping her shoulder with his. “Don’t do Wilde like that.”
