5. Chapter 4
Scottie
I gently chew my bottom lip as I watch Sammie do his homework.
I don’t think six-year-olds should have homework, but I can’t concentrate either way.
A pair of deep, mesmerizing hazel eyes and a cocky smirk come back to me.
My heart flutters as goosebumps rise on my arms, the feeling I felt still consuming me.
A hitch of fear notches up and I blink, the realization that it still pulls me hitting me hard.
Damn.
Even with Kavan, I have never had a reaction towards a man as I did with the out-of-towner sitting in Dr. Thomas’s office yesterday.
My stomach had tightened, my heart raced, and my palms began to sweat. For the first time in my life, I became tongue-tied, only just getting a greeting out.
“You’re acting weird, Auntie Scottie,” Sammie mumbles without looking up, and my lips tilt as I see his tongue poke out as he tries to concentrate.
I swear, in another life this kid should have been mine. Not with Kavan as his father obviously but otherwise yeah, he is a lot like me.
“Don’t know what you are talking about,” I sass back, and the sweet boy grins wide, still not looking up from his history homework.
Blinking, I grab my coffee mug off the side and take a sip, but I soon choke when Sammie asks, “Do you like a boy?”
What the…?
I cough as I put the coffee mug down and wipe my chin where the fluid spilled, my throat burning slightly, and I croak, “Where did that come from?”
The sweet boy shrugs and murmurs, “It’s what girls do at school, they get all weird when they like a boy, like Missy did with me when she wanted to hold my hand.”
I blink, then blink again, as the front doorbell rings.
He’s six, he shouldn’t know this kind of stuff.
The doorbell rings again, and Sammie sighs dramatically, his too-long black hair falling over his eyes as he drops his head before he scrapes his chair back and mutters, “I’ve got it,” acting like a teenager instead of a six-year-old, all while I look at the table, stumped.
How did he even figure that out? That I liked someone?
I blink.
“Sammie don’t open that–”
My words are cut off as he cheers, “Grandpa!” and my eyes widen as my mouth parts to see my father of all people, wearing a sweater and jeans- something I don’t think I have ever seen him in- walk inside my home. The one he’s never been to, with a bag in his hand.
Am I seeing things? I feel like I’m seeing things.
“Dad?” I question, completely confused, and he looks up, giving me a smile like he’s done it several times when he hasn’t. I mean, I haven’t spoken to him since I hung up on him. What is going on?
“I, uh, thought you two would like some takeout,” he says, seeing my confusion, and I blink again before Sammie cheers even louder, and I roll my eyes.
“I thought you were at the party?” I mumble as I try to come out of my stupor, mock-glaring at a too-happy Sammie about not having meatloaf tonight.
“I refused to attend after your sister's lies came about. She dropped the bomb out of anger that she dropped Sammie off a day early because she wanted it to be kid-free so you couldn’t have attended anyway, angering me even more,” he admits, and I clear my throat when he confirms, “You said you were working today.”
“I was,” I admit, “I got home half an hour ago to find him sitting at the table.”
Dad's eyes harden as Sammie mentions, “Mama doesn’t know where Aunt Scott hides the spare key. I waited until she was gone before letting myself in.”
Dad keeps eye contact with me so Sammie doesn’t pick up on his fury, and I think, for the first time ever, I see anger directed at my sister. I must admit that is weird.
Guess he didn’t know she’d drop him off hours before I’m even home and leave him unattended.
Giving Sammie a tight smile, he asks, “Can you get some plates for me?”
My little nephew doesn’t hesitate, rushing to the kitchen with anticipation and happiness because he isn’t getting leftover meatloaf again, and I roll my eyes.
Damn kid.
“She does this a lot?” Dad asks as he walks farther into my home, only stopping to kiss my head, shocking me even more, and I murmur, “Every weekend she knows I’m not working.”
“And how does she know when you are?” he demands, and I wince as I admit, “I told her because twice she left Sammie while I was on shift and I’d come home to find him on his own all day and night.”
Dad’s head physically looks ready to explode. Honestly, it’s quite frightening to see, but before he can snap, Sammie says, “Grandpa, do you know what boy Auntie Scottie likes?” and I swear everything freezes as my eyes practically pop out of my head.
That little…
Dad looks my way with a brow raise, and I clear my throat and ask, “So uh, what takeout did you get?” hoping like hell to change the subject because, no, hell, no, am I speaking to my father, about a man. Bradley definitely does not fall into the boy category…
His broad shoulders and muscles come to mind, and I blink.
Crap.
“Thai, your favorite,” he says, tilting his head as he brings me out of my lustful thoughts and my mouth parts.
He remembered…
Okay, this evening is getting weirder by the minute.
“Okay,” I whisper, not really knowing what else to say, as I walk over to the fridge and grab three bottles of water, placing them on the table.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Dad says as he looks around the home, and I smile, mainly happy he isn’t bringing up a certain man.
“Thanks,” I reply as I grab a container I instantly recognize as pad thai and my stomach grumbles.
“You’re renting, right?” Dad confirms, and I eye him for a moment and when I see no judgement, I nod before admitting, “I’m hoping that after I’ve paid my student loans off, I can buy it. The owner said he’ll let me rent for however long I need to buy him out.”
“And uh, how much is that?” Dad asks, and I absentmindedly reply, “Two hundred and forty-eight thousand,” as I spoon some pad thai onto my plate, then freeze as I look at Dad. He is looking at me, mouth gaping, noodles spilling from his fork, and I wince.
Shit, I didn’t mean to tell him that.
“How much was it originally, Scottie?” he demands as he drops his fork, and I swallow, knowing he means business.
Uh oh…
“It doesn’t matter,” I claim, and Dad opens his mouth like he’s about to snap, like I’m some child that will most likely tick me off, but Sammie saves him while throwing me under the bus.
“Auntie Scottie works two jobs, Grandpa,” the sweet little traitor admits, and my eyes widen as Dad turns his head in his grandson’s direction, “She works at Prince’s convenience whenever she’s not at the hospital, and she stocks shelves all night long.”
“Scottie Sapphire, please tell me that is not true,” Dad whispers with anger and I swallow hard and open my mouth to lie, but Sammie speaks up and asks, “Hey Grandpa, how come when Mama’s car broke down because she put the wrong gas in and you and Granny bought her a new one but Auntie Scottie had to buy her own last month? ”
Oh, holy meatballs…
Grounded, yep, I am grounding my six-year-old nephew. No more late-night movies with snacks, no more cuddles in bed for ten minutes before going to his own room, and no playing in the yard, with the small, cheap swing set I built.
He is grounded!
“Your car broke down?!” Dad demands, and I wince and admit, “It died,” hoping he’ll leave it at that but he raises a bushy brow so I explain, “Black smoke came from the hood on my way home from the store, and the garage said it would just be cheaper to buy a used one so I managed to scrap my old one for four hundred bucks and used that to go into the car I have now. I think I bought for a steal even if I did have to lower the payment on my student loan the last few months.”
“How long have you been struggling financially?” Dad demands, “Because your sister has mentioned several times over family dinners that you were out drinking or clubbing!”
Am I surprised Rachel lied, and he instantly believed her?
No, I’m not, but am I surprised he’s now questioning everything?
Hell, yeah. He has no right to question me, but yet again, before I can open my mouth, Sammie answers, “Auntie Scottie lives off coupons and has a discount at the store. She makes a lot of meatloaf, good meatloaf but there is always too many leftovers for it to be fun the next day...”
Well, tell me how you really feel, kid…
“Dad,” I sigh, seeing that he’s ready to explode, but he snaps quietly, “No, all this time, all…”
He shakes his head, not finishing his sentence as he stares at his plate, and looks distressed.
“All this time,” he chokes, and I swallow the lump forming.
I don’t like this side of my father, normally he’s strong and commanding, but right now…
“I’m doing alright, Dad,” I say softly, knowing he looks ready to break.
His jaw visibly tics, and he snaps, “I’m paying off your student loans!”
Oh, hell no!
“No, you are not,” I retort, and he glares my way, but I shrug and remind him, “Mama told me if I chose to be a doctor instead of a lawyer, then I’m on my own. Yes, I have to live off coupons right now because believe it or not residency pay sucks, I’m doing alright.”
“But we have leftover meatloaf nearly every night, Auntie Scottie,” Sammie jumps in, “Let Grandpa help.”
The little traitor.
Dad smirks, and I know he’s about to grab his phone, but before he can, I admit, “I met an out-of-towner yesterday.” and Dad pauses, and Sammie claims, “I knew it!” raising his fork in the air and my lips tilt.
Dad's eyes race between mine, and just like I hoped, he forgets about my loans for now and confirms, “You met an out-of-towner?” and I nod. He asks, “Where?”
“He uh, he was having a meeting with Dr. Thomas, your doctor and my mentor, with the president of the Untamed.”
“Not their women as well, right?” Dad confirms with a shudder, and I grin.
Their reputation precedes them…
“No, just them and uh, well,” I stutter before groaning, “I got tongue-tied, and I have never gotten tongue-tied before!”
Dad grins wide as Sammie announces, “She likes him!”
I chuckle and inform my little troublemaker, “I don’t even know him…”
“But you had a connection,” Dad butts in, and I nod. He shrugs and pushes, “Ask him out,” and I swear my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
Ask him out? Is he insane?
“I don’t even know how to get in contact with him!” I gasp.
“But Dr. Thomas does,” Dad reminds me, and I clear my throat.
“Dad, he’s not from here,” I say slowly, and he raises a brow and retorts, “And?”
“And,” I huff, “he’s part of the Rebels MC. I saw their roaring lion crest on the back of his cut. He isn’t from here, and last I checked, when a brother claims a woman, they refuse to leave their side. I mean, look at Axel. Annalise is batshit crazy, but that man always wants her in his sights.”
Dad looks at his plate again in understanding.
If I pursue this guy, if I get the courage to get his number, if he wanted a life with me… It would mean I would leave own, it’s just the way MC brothers work.
“If you have to leave town, Auntie Scottie, can I come with you?” Sammie asks innocently, and I look his way in shock, my eyes wide, but the boy looks serious.
“Sammie, you have your parents here, buddy,” I say softly, and the boy scowls.
“But they never spend time with me like you. They leave me home alone all the time,” he pouts, and I look at Dad hoping he’ll help me diffuse this situation only to find him scowling.
Crap…
“How many times have they left you alone, Sammie?” Dad asks, and Sammie sighs, “All the time, and I have to make my own lunch for school.”
“Sammie, I’m not going anywhere,” I promise because I know I’m not, and Sammie smiles sadly and reminds me, “But you like a brother.”
“And that brother doesn’t know I even exist, okay, so don’t worry,” I say softly, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m not going to try and find the guy.”
Sammie nods, but a frown still mars his cute little face. I sigh as I take another bite of my noodles, but soon choke when Dad says, “So, about this loan,” dropping the conversation about the biker.
Sammie laughs as I pat my chest while Dad grins.
So much for him forgetting…