Chapter 80
TYLER
Dane Connors’s wife was nice. What the fuck.
I wanted her to be stuck-up and to be a bitch. She was neither. Dane actually got a good one. I mean, I wouldn’t date her, and she couldn’t compare to Rain, but she was a catch. How the hell had Dane landed her?
Their girls were hellions.
They were cute hellions, but hellions. And they adored Rain right away, especially the one named after her.
Dylan. I wanted to scoff when I met them all, even the little baby, but that little baby had the biggest set of cheeks on her face and the most adorable eyes.
I’d only seen one other baby who was cuter, and that was my own niece. No one could match Zoey.
Except your own, a small voice told me, and I froze. My hand was lifting with a beer to take a sip and I couldn’t breathe for a full second.
Children. Mine.
My eyes shot to Rain where she was sitting on the floor, playing hockey with a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals and yes. I wanted to have children with Rain.
Jesus Christ. I was finally growing up.
But I knew it with every inch of my body.
When I had children, they would be with Rain.
And we were going to get married, though that was still unofficial because we hadn’t discussed any plans, like if we needed rings, or venues, or well—whatever Rain said she wanted.
As of now, she said it was enough to know that we were unofficially engaged.
I didn’t altogether know what that meant, but it made her happy every time she said it so I was all for what made Rain the happiest.
Lindy sat down on the couch next to me after putting their youngest to bed, a glass of wine in her hand.
“That is the look of a man very much smitten.” Her gaze swept over her daughters before returning to me.
“I don’t take you as a ‘I just melt for children’ kind of guy so I’m guessing the head-over-heels look is for Dylan. The older one.”
I gave her a shrewd look back. “She goes by Rain.”
“Right.” Her face cringed. “Sorry. Dane’s always talked about her as Dylan. It’ll take a little bit of time, but she’ll only be Rain the next time we see you.” Her head inclined toward me. “Which I’m hoping will be in the playoffs.”
I gave her a death stare. “I do not need a reminder that Boston is also in the playoffs.”
She laughed; the sound was free and loud. It drew attention from her little girls and also Rain, who was having a hard time from full-on beaming the whole night. Meeting her nieces, though I truly loathed their father, had been a great decision for Rain.
Lindy sighed. “I agree with you, by the way.” She indicated Rain who had gone back to playing with the raccoon that didn’t have a head, or a tail.
He was trying to bat at the fake pancake that was the puck but kept missing because he didn’t have a tail.
“Dane’s never wanted to share much about his childhood, but he would talk about Dy—Rain.
He’d talk about Rain. After reading that article about you guys, I sat him down and had him tell me the parts he left out.
Turns out, he left a lot out. Once I knew the whole story, I demanded he reach out. ”
I tensed. “He only reached out because you made him?”
She began laughing. “Good Lord, no. Dane’s been wanting to reach out for years. He’s just too scared. When I put my foot down, it gave him the excuse to finally do it.”
Dane came into the room, a beer in hand with another he offered to me. He glared at me. “Congratulations.”
When we first arrived, he’d been at the door for introductions, but a call took him away. He was just now entering the living room extravaganza with us.
I took the beer and gave him the biggest and most evil-looking smile I could muster. “Thanks.” As he sat in the chair next to me, I added, “We have more points than you.”
He paused right before he sat the whole way, giving me an unamused look. “We’ll get to second round playoffs. Your team will be lucky to win even three of your games.” His expression was like ice, and he clenched his jaw.
“Okay. Jeez. You two. Knock it off. This is family time.” His wife leaned forward. “Family, honey. Remember?”
His jaw unclenched, but the iciness remained until he regarded the hockey game happening on the floor in front of us. A visible thawing came over him until the little girl playing with a Joker’s doll waved at him. “Hi, Daddy! Look. This is Aunt Dylan.”
Rain went still, but she was watching the little girl.
“I know,” Dane said. “That’s my sister. Just like you have your two sisters.”
“I know! She’s awesome.” And it seemed she was done with Joker because she used him to bat the fake pancake in the air.
It didn’t work except the doll itself went flying across the living room.
The other girl, who was older and quieter, and was playing the goalie, blinked in shock at the sudden appearance of Joker. Then burst out laughing.
Little Dylan shrieked, but it was okay. It was also in laughter.
“Not used to kids?” Dane had been watching me steadily. There was a smirk in that question.
“Kids? Kids, yes. I have a niece. Three little girls under the age of seven? No.”
Lindy started laughing all over again. “He’s funny.” She motioned from Dane to me. “This is funny. Dane, you only had bad things to say about your high school rival.”
His expression wasn’t amused. “There are only bad things to say about him.”
“Except for the fact he’s going to be your brother-in-law,” she chided him, a knowing grin on her face. “You might want to start changing your tune.”
Dane didn’t respond, but he also didn’t tone down his glaring either.
“Daddy!” It was Little Dylan again. “Do you not like Aunt Dylan’s boyfriend?”
“No. I hate him.”
The oldest girl’s head jerked up. She exclaimed, “Dad!”
Little Dylan admonished him, “That’s a bad word. You can’t say that word. You can’t hate someone, Daddy. You said so yourself.”
He only grimaced before he said grudgingly, “I severely don’t like him. How about that?”
“But he’s Aunt Dylan’s boyfriend and she’s family so that means you can’t ‘srrvly dislike’ him.”
Lindy said under her breath, “That’s okay, sweetie.”
“What’s okay, Mommy?”
“Nothing. You’re adorable. Did you know that?”
“Mom!”
“What?”
She was giggling, but she managed, “What did you mean when you said ‘that’s okay’?”
“It’s nothing, but whatever it was, you get it from your father.”
“What do I get from Daddy?”
“Nothing, because you get all your adorableness from me. But since we’re talking about your dad, did you know that sometimes he struggles with this ability called communication. Do you know what that is?”
Little Dylan had migrated closer and she was serious as she took in their exchange. “Communeaon?”
“Yes. That.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
The older one was also following the conversation. “That’s what you do at church! That’s how Angela said she’s going to get drunk when she gets to eighth grade.”
I had completely lost the train of thought in this conversation, but Lindy bit down on her lip to keep from full-out laughing. Once she was under control, she squeaked out, “Yes. Your dad struggles with that too.”
“That’s because he doesn’t go to church,” Little Dylan said, matter-of-factly, moving back to pick up a Penguin doll. It had been next to the Riddler and Two-Face. I was noting the theme of villain dolls in the room.
“How did this conversation turn around to me?” Dane asked.
Lindy finished her wine and stood from the couch. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s just called good battle tactic. And now that I’ve won this round, it’s time you and your sister have a talk.”
Rain had been silently listening to everything with a faint smile on her face.
Lindy said to her, “Want another glass of wine before my hubby takes you into the hockey dungeon?”
Rain looked alarmed before she scrambled to her feet. “Yes, please.” I noted how she adverted her gaze so she wouldn’t meet her brother’s gaze as she passed him. Once they were in the kitchen, I studied Dane and saw he had his eyes closed.
“Preparing yourself?”
Dane opened his eyes, gave me a nasty look, but let it fade as he glanced at his girls.
They were now in a shoot-out. The Batmobile was parked in front of the goal as Penguin was throwing things at it.
Little Dylan was making exploding sounds so I was certain those were pretend bombs.
So far, the Batmobile was winning because it hadn’t exploded.
“You are such a pain in the ass. Did she have to fall for you?”
“Yes, because it’s called karma. You’re due.”
He went back to glaring at me until Little Dylan called out, “If you keep looking at him like that then Mom is going to put you in a time-out, Dad.”
Dane went from glaring to his eyes going wide and a bark of laughter ripped from him before he covered his mouth and stifled his laugh. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath so they couldn’t hear. “Their time-outs are where they have to go to bed. My girls hate going to bed.”
Little Dylan was watching her dad, an avid intensity on her face because she was fully engrossed in what the adults were talking about. She began edging our way as if she could spy on us.
Dane shook his head and pointed at the game. “Finish up. Your dad and your aunt have to talk when you go to bed.”
“But—” Her face puckered up. She was going to launch a counter attack except Dane shook his head, briskly. “Nope.”
She glowered back at him, and that was hereditary, but she was no longer about to start crying. “Dad!”
“I mean it. Finish the game. Your sister looks like she’s winning. The Batmobile seems to be impenetrable.”
She harrumphed at him before going back to her shoot-out.
“Nice,” I said under my breath.
He said under his, “Thanks. Years of experience.”
I paused, side-eyeing him.
He paused, side-eying me.
We were both gripping our beers.
“For the record, this does not make us best friends.”
He exhaled, “Thank God.”
Then the older sister piped up, “Dad, you really need to start going to church.”
I tipped my beer toward her. “Amen to that.”