Page 187 of Deacon

“Gross,” Jade called as she and Cage moved past us. Cage laughed beside her, wisely staying out of whatever came next.

Deacon didn’t lift his mouth far from mine. “Mind your business, baby girl.”

Jade looked personally offended. “That is my business. You are doing it in front of my eyes.”

“Then look somewhere else.” Deacon sounded entirely reasonable, which made it worse.

Jade immediately turned to Cage for support. “See?” she told him. “This is exactly the kind of trauma I was warning you about.”

I laughed against Deacon’s shoulder. He used the opportunity to kiss beneath my ear and lower his voice. “You know she loves us.”

“She tolerates us.” I could still hear Jade complaining as Cage steered her farther away.

“Same thing at that age.” Deacon sounded confident enough to have raised several teenagers instead of discovering his first one weeks ago.

Across the yard, Evan was very clearly ignoring Ink with so much effort that it had become a performance. Garrett stood beside him in a dark suit, one hand low at Evan’s back, comfortable enough in the date role to make Ink look like murder had become an appealing hobby. Vixen kept drifting into Ink’s space whenever Evan happened to glance that direction, touching his sleeve, leaning too close, laughing at things nobody had said. Ink shrugged her off once, then again, and the third time carried enough cold irritation that I saw it from across the lawn.

Blue noticed too. She watched from her chair beside Priest, shoes already abandoned beneath the table, then leaned over and said something into her husband’s ear. Priest glanced toward Vixen with the expression of a man receiving instructions he intended to follow, but Blue was already on her feet before he could do anything about it.

Whatever she said to Vixen never reached me over the music, but the pointed finger translated nicely. Vixen tried to laugh it off until Mouse, Daisy, and two other women appeared from nowhere and joined the effort with ruthless efficiency. A moment later Vixen peeled away in a huff while Evan accepted another drink from Garrett and raised his brows with exaggerated innocence at the glare Ink sent across the lawn.

Later, when I slipped inside to use the bathroom, I found Ink and Evan near the hallway. Neither was loud. Ink stood with that closed-off stillness of his, but the tension rolling off him felt nothing like threat. Regret sat there. Want too. The expression of a man realizing the thing he wanted might already be moving beyond his reach. Evan held his chin high, polished and defiant, but I knew him well enough to see the hurt beneath it.

I couldn’t hear what Ink was saying. Whatever it was, Evan wasn’t buying it. I kept walking because the conversation belonged to them, though I caught Evan’s sharp, wounded expression as I passed. Even hurting, the man somehow managed glamorous.

When I returned outside, Ledger stood alone near the edge of the lake with a drink in his hand. Joy seemed to move around him instead of through him, and people were giving him space because grief had its own weather. Maybe too much space.

Deacon followed my gaze before I said anything. “He looks like he is in pain,” I said quietly, watching Ledger stare across the water.

“He is.” Deacon’s arm came around my waist. His answer held no attempt to soften what we were seeing.

I leaned into him. “You think he’ll be okay?”

He took his time before answering. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Not today. Maybe not soon. But he’ll get there.” His hand rubbed once at my side while his eyes stayed on his brother. “He’s workin’ through some huge things. Bigger than most men know how to survive. But he’s got us, and we’re not lettin’ him stay in that dark alone, even if he thinks he wants to.”

I understood that better now. These men loved damaged people without demanding they heal on schedule. They stayed close to the ones who shut down or tried to shove everyone away, near enough to catch them when the weight finally became too much to carry alone.

As evening deepened, the music got louder and the children sleepier. Little Jax continued his royal progress around the reception until Tessa finally deposited him in my arms for a breather. His tiny suit had wrinkled, one shoe was gone, and he smelled like vanilla cake and baby shampoo. He immediately caught my necklace and examined it with solemn concentration while I stood near the lake.

From there I could see pieces of the family I had somehow become part of. Blue with Priest’s hand resting somewhere on her whenever he was close enough. Jade laughing at Cage. Evan holding court at a table while Garrett watched him and Ink pretended not to. Ledger quiet beneath the lights while his brothers left him room without leaving him alone. None of them fit together neatly, which might have been why the whole thing felt real.

Warmth settled against my back before Deacon’s arms came around me. One stayed low at my waist while the other reached toward Little Jax’s booted foot until the baby squealed and tried to catch his fingers. Deacon kissed my hair. “You look good holdin’ one of those.”

I laughed softly and glanced down at the baby. “One of those?”

“Yeah. A Little Jax.” Deacon nuzzled closer like this explanation had cleared everything up.

I turned my head enough to look at him. “That is not a category of child.”

“It should be.” The teasing faded as I turned more fully in his arms, careful with the baby between us. Something steadier had taken its place in his eyes.

“I want one,” he said.

The seriousness in his face stole my easy answer before I could make it.

“Actually, no. I want a whole bunch.” His hand tightened slightly at my waist. “I missed the first time, Lila. I missed all of it with Jade. Every first. Every little thing. I didn’t get to see you carry her. Didn’t get to feel her kick. Didn’t get to lose sleep over names or paint a room or hold your hand through any of it.” His voice roughened, old grief showing through the happiness around us. “I want a do-over. I want to watch you grow with my baby and be there for every damn second of it. I want all the things I didn’t get the first time.”

Little Jax chose that moment to clap both hands against my chest and make a delighted noise, apparently joining Jackson’s campaign. I stared at the man in front of me. He wasn’t talking about replacing what he had missed with Jade. I could hear the difference. He wanted another beginning because he finally understood exactly what those stolen years had cost him.