CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Frankie blows out a long, seemingly calm exhale. “I need a cigarette.”
My chuckle rises above the balls of energy bouncing around us. “You don’t smoke.”
“Now is a great time to start. Whose idea was this?” Her dagger-like nails stab in the direction of the party bus as if she wants to pop the tires.
“You watched the episode of Peppa Pig with her. Nothing else would do after seeing that.”
“It’s too much,” she whines. “Did she really have to invite her whole class? And did they all have to be available? Twenty-seven kids is a crisis waiting to happen.”
“There’s no need to kick up such a fuss. We’ve got almost as many adult chaperones.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mutters. “You’re father of the century.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “Welcome to the rest of your life, menace.”
“I didn’t agree to this level of insanity.” Frankie waves at the birthday celebration that’s just getting started.
“Should’ve read the fine print,” I chide.
“Have you met my mommy?” Ronnie’s animated voice carries over the crowd as she points wildly to the redhead beside me.
“That’s her over there. She’s the best! When I’m old enough and my daddy says it’s okay, my new mommy is gonna let me get tattoos and she’s gonna buy me lotsa knives.
A girl’s gotta protect herself you know.
Frankie probably doesn’t realize that her scowl flips into a smile worthy of a beauty pageant. “Okay, fine. It’s not that bad.”
“Other than your influence on her,” I chuckle.
“I warned you that I’m not cut out for motherhood.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit and you know it. But maybe you’ll let me put a baby or two inside of you to really test the theory.” I loop an arm around her waist and tuck her into my side. “Can you imagine? The best of both of us.”
“Or the worst.”
My grin rises to meet her grumbled response. It wasn’t a rejection. “Either way, they’d be better than other people’s children.”
“Got that right,” she huffs.
Primal satisfaction rumbles from my gut and squares my shoulders while I cast my gaze across the guests. “Well, how about that. Chance decided to show his face.”
Frankie narrows her eyes in his direction. “Who’s he staring at?”
“Gemma,” I grunt.
Red hair whips me as her gaze leaps to mine. “Paisley’s sister? No shit.”
“There’s something going on between them. It might be an interesting story.”
“Poor soul.” Her bland tone doesn’t sound the least bit sympathetic. “He looks roped in rawhide.”
The bus driver chooses that moment to descend the stairs, beckoning everyone inside. “All aboard! The Foxy Lady is departing shortly.”
An explosion of noise and hazardous amounts of sugar content erupts from the kids. The ground quakes with their excitement. Even the adults have extra pep in their step as they approach the neon pink party wagon. Meanwhile, Frankie’s complexion has paled significantly.
“If I don’t survive, I’m going to haunt you.” She shudders as if preparing for the ghostly role.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“C’mon, Mommy!” Ronnie races toward us and tugs on Frankie’s arm. “Sit by me. Please, please!”
Any evidence of upset thaws from the reformed ex-con’s frigid posture. “Of course, kiddo. I’d love that.” But then Frankie’s green eyes slice a glare at me, revealing the fire burning in their depths. “You’re still going to pay for this.”
“I look forward to it, menace.” My lips slide into a smirk as I fall into step behind them. “And for all our years to come.”