Chapter 15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Riptide
“Have I stunned you speechless, Van?”
“Hmm,” she hums, licking her lips. “Possibly.”
A knock on the driver’s side window has us both jumping.
Instinctually, my hand goes to the grip of my Glock sheathed at my hip, readying to pull it free and use it if need be.
When I twist around, Icer is standing there with Elodie in his arms. Elodie is snickering.
One hand cups her mouth and the other one waves furiously at us. “Hi, Uncle Rip.”
“Hi, Elodie,” I respond.
“Y’all can keep making out, but we want little G,” Icer scoffs. “Stop holding him hostage and hand him over.”
“Yeah. We want little G!” Elodie shouts. “He’s ours, give him to us.”
“I see claims of ownership runs in the family,” Van goads.
“So does obsession,” I mumble. “May want to tuck that information away and don’t judge me by Icer’s fixated tendencies.”
“Little G!” Icer hollers impatiently, tapping the glass.
“Okay, okay,” I say, tossing my hands in the air. “Could you at least step back so I can open the damn door, man?”
“Open, open, open,” Elodie chants.
“What she said,” Icer states, taking a short step back.
“Need more room than that, brother,” I tell him, noticing that his backstep wasn’t as big as his shoe size.
“No,” he insists. “Make it work.”
“He’s determined,” Van mutters.
“He’s gonna get my foot up his ass if he doesn’t watch himself,” I say, showing him my teeth. “He takes things too damn far.”
“He’s not going to give up,” Van inserts. “May as well let him get his way or we’ll be stuck in the truck.”
“That’s the issue,” I banter, “everyone always gives him his way so he doesn’t blow the fuck up.”
“I don’t know about you, Riptide, but I’m not one that wants to see that play out.”
“It’s not pretty when it does happen,” I confirm. “You’re right, we’ll never get shit done sitting here.” I swing the door open as wide as I can with him blocking me and slip through the small slit.
“Bout time,” Icer huffs.
“Brother,” I warn, grinding my teeth. “You’re too damn much sometimes.”
“If you can’t handle me, jump out of the frying pan,” he counters. “Stop stalling, lower the seat and give me little G.” As I go to unclip the car seat from the base, he shoves me aside. “He needs skin to skin contact, not to be stuck in that contraption.”
“You going to carry him around all day, brother?” I ask.
“That’s the plan,” he tells me as he stands Elodie on the floorboard while undoing the straps around the little man.
He lifts G into his arms then slings the diaper bag over his shoulder.
“We’ll see you around.” Icer plucks Elodie up and holds her in his other arm before shuffling away without even a wave goodbye.
“Why do I get the feeling I won’t be seeing my son other than a few peeks here and there throughout the day?” Van asks, clucking her tongue.
Indiana and Zoey come walking our way. We share a disgruntled look as he asks me, “Did he steal your kid too?”
“He stormed in, whisked him away, and didn’t even say ‘see ya later’,” Van gripes.
“At least he didn’t come into your room while you were sleeping and attempt to sneak out with your kid,” Zoey complains.
“He forgets I sleep with one eye open,” Indiana remarks.
“I don’t think he gives a shit,” I reply. “Does anyone know what his plans were for the kids today?”
“Issy had some kid activities set up. I think he was going to take them there,” Zoey reckons.
“I bet Elodie comes back sugared up,” Indiana murmurs. “Not it!”
“Not it? You can’t simply call ‘not it’ when you’re a dad, Indiana!” Zoey admonishes.
I clamp my eyes shut because I know this is fixing to become a bickering match. Van wraps her arms around me and winks. “If that’s the case, why don’t y’all just pawn her off on Icer for the night?” Van asks, mischievously smiling.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Indiana contemplates. “What do you think, Zo?”
“I think it would be good for him,” Zoey says, nodding her head. “I like it.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about that with little man,” I muse. “He doesn’t have enough teeth to eat sweets.”
“He has just enough for cotton candy,” Indiana states.
“He wouldn’t dare!” Van shouts, clutching her chest. “It’s too much sugar for a baby.”
The four of us stop dead in our tracks and our eyes swivel from one to the other. “Let’s go,” I order, grabbing Van’s hand and sprinting toward the kids’ arena.
The place is packed with kids running amuck as parents try to keep up with them.
We have to weave our way through, dodging the younger ones while trying not to get between them and their folks.
When we come across Icer and the kids, he’s sitting at one of the picnic benches, little man on his lap and Elodie sitting beside him.
Little G is sucking down one of his pouches and Elodie is munching on a roasted corn on the cob.
Elodie looks up at Icer, batting her eyes. “After this, I get to go to the candy cart, right?”
“If you eat your veggie, I’ll buy you one thing, princess,” Icer answers. “More than that isn’t good for your teeth and will stunt your growth.”
“What does stunt your growth mean?” Elodie asks him, looking at him as if he has all the right answers. “Momma’s said that to me before, but I never understand what she means. When I ask her about it, her words are too grown up and boring.”
Zoey gasps beside us as Indiana chuckles. He leans over and whispers, “You do always talk to her like she’s an adult.”
“That’s because she’s too damn smart for her own good. Don’t look at me like that, mister, she brings it on herself by asking questions when it comes to things she shouldn’t be curious about,” Zoey sighs.
While they have their spat, I stay tuned to Icer, wanting to know how he’ll explain it to her in a way she’ll understand.
“It means you’ll stay short and won’t get any taller, your eyes will cross, and you won’t be as strong as Mulan,” Icer tells her.
Now it’s Elodie gasping. “I don’t want my eyes to cross! And I want to be just like Mulan when I grow up. I’m going to eat all of my vegetables from now on.”
“He’s the kid whisperer,” Van says, slack jawed.
“That’s it! He’s invited to dinner every night,” Zoey decides. “She looks at her dinner like I’ve poisoned it. Especially if there’s anything veggie related on her plate.”
“I should just build him a room at our place so he can be the live-in nanny,” Indiana states.
“Don’t push the boundaries, sir,” Zoey says, pinching his side. “I already have to deal with you, I can’t handle another wild card in the house.”
“I should be offended, but I’m not,” Indiana mocks, before turning to Van, stating, “I’m not that bad. She’s a drama queen.” Then we hear an ‘oomph’ leave him as Zoey’s elbow connects with his ribs.
“Come on you two, Icer and the kids are fine. We need to go grab some food before things kick off,” I propose, turning around and pulling Van along with me.
“How did Issy manage to get so many vendors here?” Van asks me as we sit down with our meal. We both went with the brisket drizzled in barbecue sauce with fries on the side.
“She’s been around for a while and has a lot of connections,” I answer.
“I bet everyone loves her,” Van muses.
“Issy’s always had that adorable thing going for her.
People just can’t say no to her when she asks for something.
All she has to do is look at someone beneath her eyelashes with her bottom lip puckered and they race around like chickens with their heads cut off to give her what she wants,” I inform Van.
“She needs to add some carnival rides and sell tickets, they’d make a whack if she did,” Van says. Indiana and I turn to her and give her a stunned look because if stationary rodeos considered adding that attraction, they’d never go out of business. “What? I’m in marketing, I know what sells.”
“And you’re moving to Canton, Texas? On purpose?” Indiana asks, sounding just as confused as I am. “I didn’t realize marketing jobs even existed in that area.”
“It is a small town,” Zoey adds. “There aren’t many conglomerates or headquarters there. It’s mostly wide-opened spaces with abandoned warehouses.”
“The company I work for is branching into two separate locations. It’s run by two brothers and one of their wives is being relocated there so they decided to open up another location.
It’ll mostly be remote work and I won’t have to go into the office but once a week to turn in my reports,” Van explains.
“What’s his wife do?” Zoey asks Van.
“Marilee’s an agent with the FBI. She’s being sent there to investigate the town.
It’s been reported to the agency that there are some scandalous things going on with the officials and she’s being sent in to investigate and clean things up.
From what I overheard, they are sending her in to gather enough evidence to file charges against them,” Van tells us, not realizing she just obliterated our minds.
“Where did you hear that, Van?” Indiana asks, a fry dangling midair.
“One night, I went in after closing to drop off a report I forgot to turn in and accidentally ended up eavesdropping on a conversation between the bosses. Julian was telling Owen about it. He’s worried because she’ll be going undercover and it could be dangerous.”
She has no idea how dangerous it could end up being.
I’m going to have to keep my eye on my woman and make sure she doesn’t get tangled up in it.
It’s bad enough I’m worried about her catching the eye of the Dragons, and she just unknowingly added an extra layer to my worries that I wasn’t anticipating.