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“I think you started the ball rolling.”
“And they finished you off.” I shake my head sadly and then cackle when she tries to swat my ass.
I make my way across the room to Mad Dog, his brothers still slapping his back in celebration.
“You know, I’m not sure why they’re congratulating you. You didn’t really do anything.”
He feigns shock, his tattooed fingers splayed across his chest, “Willa,you wound me! I provided the material that made the father, you know.”
I nod. “Well, that’s one way to spin it.” I give him a look before smiling. “Congrats on the new family member.”
Stepping forward I awkwardly wrap my arms around him, but not too close. I give him a little pat on the back before stepping away again. “So I should probably-”
“Would you come in with me?”
“What the fuck?”
We stare at each other before I burst into laughter, mine drowned out by Mad Dog’s low rumble.
“Well, shit, if you hate babies, just say it.” He chuckles.
“No, it’s just, I was surprised you’d even want me in there. They’re your family, Mad Dog.”
He nods at my words. “And you’re my friend.”
Gah, why the hell did I think that was a good idea? One of us is going to get hurt, and I have a terrible gut feeling that it could be me. Shit’s sake Willa.
“Sure!” I say brightly because I’m an idiot but damn if the smile he throws me doesn't do something to my chest.
He reaches for me but instead of taking my hand, he moves to my side, his hand hovering over my lower back. Not quite touching, but the heat emanating from him means I feel him. Everywhere.
“Knock, knock,” he calls gently.
“Hey, Mad Dog, look what we did!” Chewy grins, angling the baby up for us to see.
“Well, would you look at that,” Mad Dog coos, moving to Chewy’s side and pressing a kiss to her crown. “One hell of a group project.”
“Yeah.” Chewy peers down at her son. “So, because Gus’s kid stole Pops’ name and my dad’s name, we’ve decided to name him after you.”
“What the fuck? Really?” Pops grumbles from his position on the other side of Chewy’s bed with Laney on his knee.
“Pops, we ain't having two boys with your name running around,” Rhodie says decisively.
“Anyway, Doggy, meet Miles Monday Tombs-Paxton.”
Mad Dog beams, looking into the baby’s little squidgy face. “Well, shit, it’s been a while since I heard my government name.”
“Shit name if you ask me-ow!” Pops bitches when Mama Debs backhands him in the gut.
“Monday?” I ask.
“Well, yeah, cos I’m Tuesday.” Chewy states matter of factly. “He’s Monday.”
“Not Wednesday?”
“Well that makes no sense, Willa.”
Mad Dog snorts then covers it with a cough. “Chewy, Rhodie, shit, I’m honored.”
