“Why is that, Cupcake?”
Her little tongue peeked out the side of her mouth, as it always did when she was thinking. Her father saved her when Jack stepped into the room and said, “Because we’re all going out as a family.”
“I really don’t feel like going out, Jack.”
“Too fucking bad.” He pulled Sam into his arms and whispered something in her ear before kissing her soundly. It had taken time for me not to feel awkward when they did that shit in front of me.
Every time I saw them touch, I remembered that I had touched her first. I had loved her first. But she never should have been mine. I used her to fill a void in my life she never could have filled.
Now I could watch them show each other affection, and the only feeling I had was jealousy. Not because I still wanted Sam. But because I wanted what they had together.
And I wanted it with someone else. A fierce woman with caramel-colored hair, and the daughter we shared.
I wanted a family of my own.
“Please, Uncle Derek.” Charlie dragged out the word please, knowing I would give in.
“Fine,” I relented. “Let me wash up.”
I set Charlie on the floor and laughed as she jumped up and down, doing a little dance. The same dance she did whenever she got her way. My eyes caught Sam’s and the smile on her face was so fucking beautiful.
“I’m not doing this for you,” I said.
My words only made her smile brighter and chuckle when she said, “I know.”
“Your wife is up to something,” I said to Jack.
He scrunched his eyebrows the same way Charlie did and looked between Sam and me. “What are you talking about?”
I shook my head. “You have a lot to learn about your wife, little brother.”
Despite my fear of what Sam was concocting, I smiled as I took the steps two at a time and jumped in the shower. Dinner with my family was something Jack insisted on most nights. Unless the club needed him, he made sure he was home when I got done for the day so we could all eat together and talk.
It was something neither of us had growing up. My mother fed me before my father got home, then tucked me into bed before he started drinking. Not that it mattered; if he got angry enough, he’d just drag me out so he could pin whatever pissed him off on me.
Jack grew up in a series of foster homes and group homes. He’d told me the first time he sat down for a family dinner was after he joined the club. And even that wasn’t quite the same as what Sam provided.
When Sam and I were married, we didn’t often eat at the table. We either went out, or we ate on the couch. Family dinners didn’t quite hit the same way when your family only consisted of two people.
I hit the bottom of the stairs and found Sam and Jack whispering in the foyer. That niggling sensation came back with a vengeance when Sam saw me and closed her mouth.
“Are we ready to go?” she asked, picking up one of the twin’s infant seats.
“I am!” Charlie shouted, startling Josie, or maybe it was Rosie. I had a hard time telling the two little girls apart. Truthbe told, Jack and even Sam struggled with it at times. Charlie seemed to be the only one to get it right each time without looking for the small birthmark Josie had on the back of her knee.
“Charlie, want to ride with me?” I asked, and my niece squealed. She ran across the yard to my truck, hopping up and down impatiently as I followed.
I had her buckled up in no time, only to remember I didn’t know where we were going. Jack motioned for me to follow him, and the way he was being secretive had me wondering if he was in on whatever Sam had concocted.
Once we were on the road, I looked at Charlie in the rearview mirror. “What’s your mama scheming about, Cupcake?”
She smiled brightly and then used her fingers to twist an invisible lock on her lips before tossing the invisible key out the window. The older she got, the harder it would be to trick her into giving away information. She was so fucking smart, and I knew she got that from her mother.
Jack and I had too much of our father to make us worth a damn. Jack was a notch higher than me because he hadn’t lived with the son of a bitch. He hadn’t endured the constant abuse for years on end.
Jack would never hit Sam. He didn’t have the same trauma I did, according to Haizley. In one of our sessions, Jack assured me he’d grown up with his own demons. They were just different from mine.
We pulled into the steakhouse, and I smiled. This was one of my favorite places, but it was usually packed out on the weekends. We’d probably be waiting in the foyer for an hour or more before they seated us.
