At the door, she halted and turned to him. “Be nice to Jana, Diesel.”
“I’ll do better,” he promised.
“For her. Not me.”
“Does it matter why?”
“To be fair to her? Yes, it does.”
“Remember Julia?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I know. That’s what you and Jana will name your daughter.”
“I don’t want children with Jana, Rebel.”
“That can change, but just so you know the name was mine, so I want it if I ever have a baby.”
“I thought you were afraid of pregnancy.”
“I don’t know what I am anymore,” she said.
“My Monkey Butt.”
She smiled. “Always,” she said and left Diesel alone, wishing for things he couldn’t have.
April 8th
Five days after Kendall revealed Jana was Johnnie’saunt, he was back at Logan’s old house in the very room the DNA results were given. Not long after she announced the addition to Johnnie’s family—though not in the way he expected—the dinner party, or whatever the fuck it was, ended. They’d driven home in silence.
By the time Johnnie finished reaming Rory out for disrespecting Kendall, she’d been asleep and he’d spent the night holding her. He was determined to break through her insanity that made her see him as a man she could walk awayfrom, so he’d made love to her, refusing to allow her to lay underneath him like a statue.
She was adjusting, knowing they’d sleep entwined in each other’s arms. It still galled him that Jana was related to him in any way, but he’d find a way to get rid of her sooner or later.
Tonight everyone was playing nice. Val had run cameras in the kitchen with a live feed on a monitor in this room and in the conference room at the clubhouse. Instead of riding back to Salt Lake City as he’d intended, Bash changed his mind because he wanted to see the Charlotte situation through. Johnnie objected, but Christopher ignored him and allowed Bash to participate. Christopher also sent Diesel and Easton as backup, although Johnnie felt as if they were his fucking babysitters.
He’d overlook the insult because it seemed as if life was getting back to normal again. It was unfortunate Bailey had been caught in the crossfire and he’d fed her misinformation, but that was her husband’s fault. Mortician could deal with the fallout—whatever that might be.
Johnnie’s main agenda was Charlotte.
For Kendall’s sake, he hoped Charlotte wouldn’t repeat whatever she told Bash or Kendall. No, he hoped she didn’t show up at all. He’d purchased tickets for Charlotte and Brooks for a gala in Portland. Bash, Brooks, and Christopher knew. They agreed if she was a no-show, they’d let it go and allow Johnnie to exileher. Likewise, if shedidshow and didn’t offer Megan or any of the kids as a sacrifice.
When her allotted time to arrive came and went, Johnnie breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, the bell rang five minutes later. The moment Easton opened the door and greeted Charlotte, Johnnie began to worry.
Easton limped in front of Charlotte Redding, leaning heavily on his cane, which he preferred not to use but after the weekend Diesel put him through as his sponsor, he was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t fucking believe the audacity of the woman and really fucking wished Outlaw hadn’t sent him with Johnnie and Val.
Annoyed, he guided Charlotte into the kitchen, where Bash and Cleaner sat at the kitchen table. Plastic already lined the floor.
“Mr. Bash,” she greeted, sailing forward, well put together in a black cocktail dress, kitten heels, and diamonds. She glanced at the floor and scrunched her nose. “We could’ve met somewhere else. I know how tedious kitchen work can be and constant activity makes everything worse.”
“Please sit,” Easton told her, tired of standing, but enough of a gentleman totryand wait until she sat the fuck down.
Not only were Bash and Cleaner staring at her with dislike, they hadn’t spoken or stood.
“I can’t stay long,” Charlotte went on. “Brooks will wonder where I’m at. Mr. Donovan bought us tickets forLa Boheme. I’m meeting him at the theater. I’ve seen professional productions so many times. And this is just a local company reaching above their talent. My tardiness won’t matter when they should be grateful for my presence for even one minute.”
“Sit, Easton.” Bash released smoke from his cigarette and then discarded it in the ashtray. “Lottie seems as if she wants to stand all night, bemoaning who can or can’t perform one of the most famous operas of all times.” Leaning back and folding his arms, he cocked his head to the side, ignoring her glower. She hated the nickname ‘Lottie’. “I’m curious, Lottie Dottie. IsRodolpho’s AriaorMusetta’s Waltzyour favorite piece from the production?”
Her eyes flared in surprise. “You understand opera?”
