“You doing okay?”
I looked over at him, brows drawn together. “What’d you mean?”
His eyebrows lifted. “You just found out you’re going to be a father, Bolo. Are you doing okay?”
Those words hit me like a sucker punch. For some reason, coming from my own dad, they made me realize the enormity of what was going on in my life right now.
“Breathe, Son.”
His large hand clapped me on the shoulder, forcing me to take a breath. I blinked at him. “Well, Iwas.Until you had to go and fucking say that.”
He chuckled. “The truth?”
Shit. I was going to have a baby. Potentially a wife, if I could get Devyn to trust me. If nothing else, we’d be tied together for the rest of our lives because of our kid.Our kid. My child.My chest was tight. It wasn’t even from panic. Or maybe it was. But mostly my throat was clogged with some kind of emotion I wasn’t able to identify and no amount of swallowing was shoving the lump down.
I’d been getting sick of the lifestyle. Not the MC, my brothers, or the things we did together. Never that. I was just fucking sick of the…temporary pleasures. There seemed to be two kinds of thirty-five-year-old men. The single guys who refused to grow up. And the guys who’d settled down years ago, gotten married,and had three or four kids. Somehow I’d outgrown the fuck around and have fun stage. Was I actually ready for all the responsibility that a family would bring? A grin spread over my face.
Dad chuckled when he saw it. “Yeah. You’re ready.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How the fuck do you do that?” The man was a mind reader.
“You’re my kid,” he said, as if that explained it all. It explained nothing, but he didn’t elaborate. “Think you can get your brothers on board?”
I snorted. “Pretty sure Isaac will be alone until he dies.” I gave him a side-long look. “Or living in your basement untilyoudie, anyway.”
Dad’s top lip curled up. “We don’t have a basement,” he grumped. “And fuck if he’s moving back in with us. I pay him well so he can live alone.”
“Someone’s gotta wash your ass once you’re too old to do it,” I reminded him. “Seems like Isaac is signing up for that gig.”
“Fuck that,” Dad muttered. “I’ll wash my own ass.” He pointed at me. “And don’t change the subject.”
“What subject?” I asked.
“What are you going to do about your girl?”
Sighing, I shrugged. “Fuck if I know. I’ve gotten her to agree to get to know me. And believe me, that took some effort. She’s got one foot out the door, ready to run. She’s scared, and I don’t want to scare her further. That’s about all I can do for now.”
He looked at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot. Which was fair. “You need to woo her, Son.”
“...woo her?” I asked. I stared at him in disbelief. “What the fuck is this? Medieval times?”
“I’m not that fucking old,” Dad growled, frustrated with me.
“Sure sounds like you are. Should I court her, too? Bring her ‘favors’.”
“No. Because if this was back in the day, her father would be pointing a shotgun, or a sword, at your balls right now as you say ‘I do’ at the altar. And I would’ve gotten some goats or something out of the deal.”
I frowned. “You sure?” I cocked my head. “No, I don’t think that’s right. Her father would’ve gotten the goats…right?” I scratched my beard. “‘Cause I’d have to pay for the privilege of marrying her.”
“I swear to God, if you mention any barnyard animals in exchange for her hand, I’m going to make you regret it,” Mom called through the screen door.
We both turned in our chairs and looked, but she was already gone. She’d just been passing by on her way to do something and overheard our conversation.
“What does she take me for?” I asked Dad with a grin.
“A dumbass.”
I chuckled and turned back around, fixing my gaze on the sky again. “I’m doing my best, Dad. I’d be fine with getting married.” I didn’t need to look to know he was wearing a surprised expression.
