Chapter 8
Irish
My phone had pinged earlier in the day, and it was Sutton asking if she could cook dinner for everyone.
I had agreed because, one, that sounded great.
And second, it would be good for Maisie.
Walking into my house, the first thing I saw was Sutton in one of my long old sleeve button-down shirts with a pair of my socks pulled all the way up to her knees.
The second thing I saw was my daughter at her side, wiggling her little booty to the song that they had blasting through my speakers. What was adorable was that my little girl was in one of mine, too, but the sleeves were rolled up, and the shirt was dancing with the floor.
They were both laughing and dancing, each holding one of her hair brushes as they belted out Sutton’s favorite song.
The feel of my brothers at my back hit me as I stepped into the house and then just watched as the show played out.
Seeing as neither one of them heard me open the door, they were still dancing around.
My brothers picked up the song at my back and were singing right along with them.
Wanting to take part in this, I toed off my boots, and the moment Bob Segar said, “ Still like that old-time rock & roll , I slid into the fray and started singing with them.
***
We pulled into the clubhouse after finding jack shit about Kendra.
It was almost as if she had faded off the face of the planet.
I checked my phone, wondering if Sutton had sent me a text or anything, but there was nothing.
Everyone gathered around Asher’s bike, he ran his hand through his hair, “I gotta get home to Stella, so this is going to be short. Let Charlie see what he can find out. Irish, don’t worry about any runs we need to make, all that’s on hold. Your daughter is what’s important. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
And like that, we separated.
I climbed back on my bike and headed towards my house.
And the whole way, I did nothing but think.
My fucking house.
Sure, I knew I wouldn’t live in the clubhouse forever.
But I didn’t know it was going to be this soon.
Yes, I had a lot of money in the bank, so buying the house wasn’t the problem.
The problem was I didn’t know the first thing about turning a house into a home.
But the first thought about the house I had was that Sutton would love it.
Why, why couldn’t I make up my mind?
Almost every waking thought I’d had since I met Sutton had been about the woman.
I sighed as I climbed off my bike and walked to the front door.
Once I had it unlocked, I walked inside and closed the door.
And when I saw the pink boots sitting by the door, I had only one thought.
I was a father.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My gaze went right to the couch.
Sutton was right. She did look just like me.
Right down to the tips of her toes.
She was my mini-clone in every sense of the word.
My gray eyes, my dark brown hair, my nose, my fingers, my toes, my ears.
Jesus.
And as I stood there staring at the couch where Sutton and Maisie were curled up fast asleep, with some movie in the background playing on low... Had you told me last month that I would be here right now, I would have called you a liar.
I didn’t know anything about kids.
Fucking nothing.
Plus, what did I know about caring for anything other than my bike and my club?
I wasn’t shown what a home is supposed to be.
I wasn’t told I love you.
Never heard the words directed at me until Sutton said them in her sleep.
And yeah, I’m still kicking my ass for acting like a little pussy ever since that night.
The two of us needed to talk.
I just didn’t know how to start that conversation.
And when I laid out my feelings... well... what I thought were my feelings, I knew that Sutton would leave and wouldn’t look back.
Now, it’s hard to remember my life before Sutton came into it.
I heard a saying one time, ‘ The ones that come into your life and are meant to be there will leave a lasting impact on your life.’
That was so true. It wasn’t even funny how true it was.
But in the next instant, it was almost as if she could feel me in the house, her head lifted, her eyes opened, and they came to me.
And no, I didn’t miss the way she pulled Maisie closer to her body as her eyes adjusted.
And when she saw that it was me, her grip loosened.
She mouthed, “Hey.”
I jerked my chin.
Then I moved to the couch, carefully gathered Maisie in my arms, and carried her to her new bedroom that the women...mainly Sutton, had created a room that any princess would adore.
Right down to the white netting shit that was like a canopy over her bed.
Once I laid Maisie down and covered her up, I did something that felt natural. As natural as breathing.
I lowered my head and pressed a kiss on her temple.
She snuggled into the covers.
Carefully, I backed out of her room, went to the fridge, and tagged a beer for myself and a bottle of sweet tea for Sutton, then I looked at her.
She was pulling her shoes on, so I called out softly, “Wanna stay and have a drink with me?”
She looked at me, then at the beer in my hand and the sweet tea in my other one, then back at me, and nodded.
I led her to the front porch and settled into one of the white rocking chairs that Priest had dropped off.
We rocked in silence as we took sips from our bottles, and then I opened my mouth and said, “How the fuck do I do this?”
She was silent, and then she whispered, “You just do it. She’s yours, Irish. And from what I can tell, she hasn’t had the greatest life. What child doesn’t know what candy is?”
“See, you're still pissed off about that,” I told her.
She growled, “I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t be.”
I nodded.
We were both silent. I was taking in her words, and she seemed to be gearing up to say something, and I didn’t like that.
Normally, Sutton just said what was on her mind, rarely did she hesitate.
But I’d noticed that lately, she seemed to be hesitating with me.
And I didn’t like it.
I know I caused it.
But I didn’t fucking like it.
Her voice floated over the cold breeze when she said, “You just have to love her Irish. I know the concept is foreign to you, but that’s all she needs. Feed her. Clothe her. Hold her. Just love her.”
And with that, she walked into the house and came back out moments later with her bag, and without a word or a glance at me, she walked down the steps and headed to her car.
I should have called out.
Should have said something.
Like, what the fuck did she mean that the concept of love was foreign to me?