Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

18. Ian

Turnedout I had one hell of a concussion with a side of humiliation, courtesy of Zac, who’d informed the doctor in the ER that I’d fainted after being told I’d gotten some chick pregnant.

Sarah Jane, who we’d done a benefit concert for back in June, had driven me, Zac, and Barrett to the hospital because it was on her way to pick up her kids from the babysitter. Beau thought it would be a good idea for my two asshole bandmates to accompany me.

He’d been wrong.

Now, after two days in the hospital, doing nothing but sleeping or looking at the ceiling or out the window, my father picked me up and brought me to Maylene’s. It had been my idea to stay there since Ma would drive me nuts between fussing over me and asking me a thousand questions I didn’t have answers for.

My sister was a safer bet. And since she was on her own with the baby—her husband, Owen, was an Army medic and currently deployed to Afghanistan—I figured she wouldn’t mind the company. I knew if I wanted to talk about the shitshow my life had turned into, Maylene was the sibling I would most likely gravitate toward. We were Irish twins; only eleven months apart with me being the youngest. We’d even shared a grade since her birthday fell after the July cutoff date.

While my older sisters were used to babies in the house growing up, Maylene and I were clueless. Or at least I was. Guess she figured it out by now.

Me? Not so much.

Which brought me to my current regret: babies are loud. At least this one was. It cried and fussed all hours of the day and night. It needed changing constantly, and every time I turned around, it was latched onto my sister like a chain-smoker.

And then there was my mother. Clearly my brain wasn’t working properly when I opted to come to Maylene’s as my parents live only two miles from here and there was nothing keeping her from popping in every day to grill me about what I’m going to do. It didn’t matter how many times I told her I wasn’t doing anything until after a paternity test, she was determined to claim Madison’s baby regardless. She’s already got two grandkids; you’d think she’d back off a bit.

After another visit and another round of twenty questions, my mother had finally headed home in order to start dinner for my father who liked to eat as soon as he got home from his job as Ashwood’s postmaster.

Maylene was trying to put her kid down for a nap. Since it wasn’t crying and she hadn’t come back down yet, I figured she was either feeding it—again—or had conked out herself. Judging by the ruckus that went on here most every night, my sister wasn’t getting much sleep. Neither was I.

I’d just started to doze off on the sofa when I heard that familiar refrain that I would hear in my sleep for the rest of my days. The wailing grew louder, accompanied by Maylene’s footsteps as she pounded down the hallway.

“Here,” she cried. “Take her. Owen’s on the phone.”

I pretended I was asleep which earned me a nudge in the ribs with the toe of her sneaker, and since I was ticklish, I had no choice but to curl up like a slug. “Damn it, Mally.”

“C’mon, sit up and take her. Owen doesn’t get a lot of time to talk, and I haven’t spoken to him for a couple days.”

I pulled myself up until I was seated and facing Churchill’s doppelg?nger, sporting a wet, red face and trembling pout.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“I swear to God. Call her ‘it’ one more time, Ian, and I’ll go straight to TMZ and spill all kinds of tea about you.”

“Fine,” I huffed. She handed over Baby Churchill, and I held her up like the little shit bomb she was. I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen the leaky diapers that had exploded all over Mally. I turned her from side to side while her head stayed glued to me, probably wondering what I was doing.

“Just checking. You’re not getting close to me if I get one whiff of shit. Got it?”

A quiet hiccup was her only response. At least she’d stopped carrying on over nothing. All that remained were a few tears and the occasional hiccup. I could deal with that if the diaper did its job.

I set her on my knees and gave her a bounce. She gave me a gummy smile, which set off a string of drool that dripped onto my thumb.

“Did you know you don’t have any teeth? You should really get on that. It makes you look like an old man. And what’s with all the drooling? It’s gross.”

I gave her another bounce and she gurgled. I did it a few more times, and she laughed. That was a first. I smiled even though I’d been forced to hold her against my will.

“If you know how to laugh, how come you’re always cryin’ and carryin’ on? Let me share a little advice from Meemaw: You can catch more flies with honey. You keep showing off those gums of yours and giggling, and you’ll have everyone eating outta the palm of your hand.”

I crossed my legs and draped her chubby legs over my calf and gave her a few bounces. She giggled and drooled. Saliva dribbled onto my bare knee just below the hem of my shorts, but the laughs were better than listening to her howl.

The more she laughed, the more I bounced her. A picture formed in my head of me bouncing another baby—my own.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Where the hell did that come from?”

I didn’t believe for one second that I was the father of Madison Enright’s baby. I didn’t know what she was trying to pull; what her endgame was, but my lawyer was working on setting up the paternity test. Then I could put that little nightmare behind me.

No way was I ready to be a father. I was only twenty-seven. I had a lot of living to do, and no way in hell was I ready for a kid. Not now, and maybe, not ever.

A long, loud gurgle, followed by a stream of warm, curdled milk dripping down my leg drew me back to the kid on my knee. The sloppy, wet grin grew.

There was nothing within reach to wipe up the slobber, so I pulled her up to my chest and gave myself a few seconds to equalize before slowly rising off the sofa. No double vision. As carefully as I could, I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel to wipe up the gunk that was soaking into my sock.

“Damn, kid. I guess we all have to be good at something. You’ve got this spewing thing locked down tight.” I rested her butt on the counter and held her upright with one hand while I wiped her face and the rolls under her chin with the towel.

“What the hell is your mama feeding you anyway?”

Her face got all frowny and it looked like she was about to start wailing again.

Big, wet, blue eyes blinked up at me.

“None of that now, ya hear?”

I lifted her and set her chubby feet on the counter. As soon as her feet hit the solid surface, she stiffened her legs like she was going to stand, which I was pretty sure she couldn’t do yet, even if she thought so. I just held her and let her march in place; one foot up and the other down. She laughed, so I had to assume she was enjoying whatever little dance she had going on.

She could dance all night as far as I was concerned. As long as she wasn’t crying, I was here for it.

“What’s this you’re wearing?” I asked. She had on a pink onesie that proclaimed she was a “Barbie girl.”

“We can do better than that.” An idea popped into my head. We had tons of merch, but none for babies—at least as far as I knew. It’s not like I ever noticed. Why would I?

A glimpse of Madison holding a baby in a tiny Gravel Hill Boys T-shirt flashed before my eyes, and I squeezed them shut.

“What the fuck?” I growled.

The kid, sensing my sudden mood change, whimpered. Before it turned into a full-blown air-raid siren, I brought her to my chest and patted her back. She turned until her wet face was planted against my neck. I rubbed her back like I’d seen Mally do when the kid wouldn’t stop screaming, and when she inhaled and sighed, I felt it in my chest. In a good way. I patted and rubbed and bounced.

It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever had to do.

“Listen, no offense, but you gotta understand I’m not cut out to be a father. You’ll see when you get older. I’ll be the fun uncle, I promise. I’ll buy you lots of shit. Stuff your parents won’t. You just come to Uncle Ian and I’ll be your fairy godfather, ‘kay? But if you want more cousins, you’re gonna have to ask your aunts for that. I got rock star shit to do. You copy?”

“Is she sleeping?” Maylene came up behind me so quietly, I hadn’t heard her.

“Don’t know, but she’s sucking on my neck and it’s all wet.”

My sister giggled. Brat.

“I can try and take her from you, but she might wake up, and I’d been trying to put her down for at least an hour before Owen called. If you could lie down on the couch, would you be okay with holding her for a while? I hate to ask, but if she sleeps I can get some work done around here and maybe even start dinner.”

“Ma brought porcupine balls and mashed potatoes as today’s excuse to interrogate me.”

Mally laughed. “Yeah, but I defrosted chicken two days ago, and if I don’t get to cook it soon, I’m going to have to throw it out. You keep holding her for me, and I can whip up a stir-fry for tonight, and we can have your favorite tomorrow night. That work? Please?”

“Biscuits?”

“You got it.”

“Fine,” I whispered as I shuffled back into the living room and settled down on the sofa, holding my sleeping niece. “But you still owe me,” I added. “A few biscuits don’t make up for drool and sour milk all down my leg.”

“Did she spit up?”

My arched brows and deep frown answered that dumb question.

“And no biscuits for you,” I said.

“Why the hell not?”

“This kid’s a little porker. If you don’t want other kids making fun of her, you’re gonna have to cut back on the carbs so she can lose some weight. She already looks like a dude. You don’t need to make it any worse for her if she keeps piling on the pounds.”

“You’re an idiot. She’s supposed to be ‘piling on the pounds’,” she snarked back at me. “She’s a baby, Ian. That’s what they do. They grow. God, what are you gonna do when your own gets here? Fat shame it for growing?”

“No, because I’m not having a kid.”

Mally frowned and shook her head. “I can’t think of a stronger word for you right now, so I’m gonna go with ‘f-ing idiot’. In case that concussion has screwed up your short-term memory, a very lovely woman told you last week that you’re gonna be a daddy, so pull that head of yours out of your ass.”

“If I didn’t have a goddamn concussion, I’d storm right out of here.”

With a snort, she dragged a chair over and pushed the back of it up to the sofa, boxing me in.

“What the hell are you doing? Is this how you plan to keep me here?”

“Nope. This is so my daughter won’t roll off your chest if you fall asleep.”

My arms automatically tightened around the baby. “What kind of uncle do you take me for? I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Not on purpose, but in case you haven’t developed that instinctual need to protect her, I’m not taking any chances.”

“You better hope I don’t need to get up and take a piss.”

“Don’t say piss in front of my daughter.”

“Then don’t piss me off in front of her.”

Maylene let out a big sigh.

“Take a nap, Ian. You need one more than Ellery.

“Who the fuck is Ellery?”

Maylene walked out of the room without answering.

So. Fucking. Rude.