Chapter 4
Play – something children do but it’s even better when you’re an adult
Fender
“Why don’t you go over there already?”
At Gibson’s question, I drag my gaze away from Leia’s house. I could lie to myself and say I didn’t realize I was staring at her house but I prefer not to lie.
The little firecracker fascinates me. I wonder if her blonde hair would feel like silk in my hands. Is her skin soft to the touch? Do those mischievous blue eyes sparkle when she’s turned on?
Too bad she has relationship written all over her. And there’s also the small matter of the two of us fighting whenever we’re in the same room.
“Or are you chicken?” Jett asks before he begins bwaking. “Bwak. Bwak.”
“Maybe he just needs some tips on how to seduce a lady.” Gibson rubs his hands together. “I am happy to assist you with this endeavor.”
I glare at him.
“Glare at me all you want, grumpapottamus. I know you’re a big softie inside.”
I give him the finger.
“If you don’t want Gibson’s help, I’m available. My schedule’s wide open.”
I frown. Jett and boredom is not a good combination. The adrenaline junkie will need another hit soon and I’m afraid of what the people of Winter Falls will do when he marches down Main Street in his birthday suit while playing Smells Like Teen Spirit on his marching snare drum.
“I don’t need any help.” I head toward the stairs but a knock on the back door has me veering in the opposite direction.
“Hi!” Isla greets when I open the door. “Do you want to come outside and play with me?”
I frown. “Does your mom know where you are?”
She huffs. “I’m eleven and a half.”
“You didn’t answer my question, kid.”
She scrunches up her eyes and scowls at me. It’s freaking adorable.
“I’m not a kid.” She stomps her foot.
“I can’t play with you if you don’t have permission from your mom.”
“I’ll be back.” She hurries away. I contemplate shutting the door but I want to be certain she asks Leia for permission instead of pretending.
She dashes into her house but less than a minute later she’s back outside. Leia follows her. She glances across our yards and waves to me before turning and hurrying back inside.
I frown. Does Isla want to play with me because her mom doesn’t have time for her?
“I have permission!” Isla screams from across her backyard to me.
“What do you want to play?” I ask when she reaches me.
“Yeah,” Gibson chimes in. “What do you want to play?”
“Don’t forget me.” Jett pushes me out of the way to stand on the back porch.
Isla inches closer to me before asking, “Who are they?”
“I’m Gibson.”
“And I’m Jett.”
“We’re friends of Fender.”
Isla glances up at me for confirmation. “They’re my roommates.”
“Are they in the band with you?” I nod. “Are they rockstars, too?”
I nod.
“Okay.” She shrugs as if meeting rockstars is not a big deal.
“Let’s play Simon says. I’m Simon,” she says before she starts bossing everyone around. “Fender, you here. Gibson, you there. Jett, over there.”
Once we’re in the positions she wants us in, she stands in front of us and places her hands on her hips. She’s adorable. The perfect daughter.
A pain knifes through my stomach but I ignore it. Children are not for me. I’ve learned my lesson. I force thoughts of her and the past out of my mind. I prefer not to give any headspace to her.
“Simon says touch your left ear.”
We touch our left ears.
“Simon says touch your right ear.”
We touch our right ears.
Leia points to Gibson. “Simon didn’t say to stop touching your left ear. You’re out.”
“No fair,” he pouts.
“Simon says release your ears.”
Jett and I drop our hands.
“Simon says touch your toes.”
Jett groans. “What if we can’t touch our toes?”
Isla cackles. “Simon didn’t say you can talk. You’re out!”
“This game is harder than I remember.” He falls to the ground in a heap. “I’ll win the next one.”
Isla smiles at me. “You win!”
“The first time the big guy’s won anything in a long time,” Gibson grumbles, and I give him the finger from behind my back.
Isla hugs me. “Congrats!”
The knife in my chest returns. All I’ve ever wanted is children of my own. But it’s not to be. I pat Isla on the back before stepping out of her hold. Best not to get too attached to someone else’s child. Especially when that someone else pisses me off on a regular basis.
“What game is next?” Jett asks.
“Hide and seek. You’re it!” Isla tags me before darting away.
Jett and Gibson rush away as well. I sigh before turning around and beginning to count to fifty.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Isla hide behind the trash can next to the porch. I swallow my laughter and continue to count.
“Fifty! Ready or not. Here I come,” I shout.
I scan the yard for any sign of Gibson or Jett, but I don’t spot them. Not surprising since Gibson is adept at hiding. He’s had lots of practice hiding from pissed off fans.
My personal favorite was when he tried hiding in the catering cart but fell out as they were wheeling it toward our suite. Probably because he drank several of the mini bottles of whiskey while he was in there.
“Isla, time for dinner!” Leia hollers from across the yards.
“But we’re playing hide and seek,” Isla calls from her hiding spot.
I wait for Leia to get angry with Isla for disobeying her. For her to start shouting nasty words at her daughter. My hands fist and my chest heaves. I can’t hit a woman but I will ensure Isla is safe.
Leia marches over to our yard. “Here are your choices, daughter of mine.” Her gaze travels around the yard as if we don’t all know Isla is ‘hiding’ behind the trash can.
“You can finish your game of hide and seek.”
“Yes!” Isla shouts.
“And eat your spaghetti cold when you’re finished. Or, you can come out and eat your dinner while it’s warm.”
“Cold spaghetti is gross,” Isla grumbles.
“I give up!” Jett cries as he climbs down the tree.
“I’m hungry,” Gibson says as he crawls out from underneath the back porch.
My stomach rumbles in agreement. I check the time and realize it’s after six.
Leia bites her lip. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”
Isla abandons her ‘hiding spot’ to tug on my hand. “Yeah, Fender. Come to dinner.”
“Go ahead, Fender. We’ve got plans,” Gibson says.
“What pla—” Gibson elbows Jett before he can finish his question. “Yes, of course. We have other plans. You go along, Fender. Enjoy your spaghetti.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“Sorry, squirt.” I tweak her nose. “I’m busy.”
Leia lets out a visible sigh of relief. She doesn’t want to be around me? Same, firecracker, same.
“Come on, Isla.” Leia grasps her daughter’s hand. “Thank the guys for playing with you this afternoon.”
“Thanks for playing with me.”
Jett winks. “Anytime, doll face. Anytime.”
“Knock on our door whenever you want,” Gibson adds.
Leia groans. “You’re going to regret those words.”
I scowl. “Why? You don’t enjoy playing with your own kid?”
She rears back. “What’s with the accusation? I meant my Isla has the energy of ten chihuahua puppies who were given espresso for breakfast.”
Isla giggles. “Mom’s silly. Everyone knows puppies can’t have coffee.”
Leia wraps her arm around her daughter. “Come on, daughter of mine who knows entirely too much about a puppy she’ll never have. Let’s go eat.”
“Bye!” Isla waves as they walk across the yard.
“You’ve got your work cut out with her.” Jett slaps me on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got your back.” Gibson slaps my ass on his way inside the house.
“I don’t need your help.”
Jett chuckles. “Um, yeah, you do.”
“No,” I snarl.
Gibson shakes his finger at me. “Don’t you worry, grumpapottamus. Jett and Gibson are on the job.”
“I’m an excellent wingman,” Jett proclaims.
“He is,” Gibson agrees. “He’s been my wingman for years.”
Jett shoves him. “I’m not your wingman. But I’ll be Fender’s.”
The two numbskulls can argue about the traits of a wingman all they want. I don’t need a wingman. I don’t want a woman.
And I certainly don’t want Leia. No matter how much my fingers long to thread through her blonde curly locks of hair whenever she’s near. My cock twitches in my pants. He wants in on the action. He’ll have to settle for my hand.