7. Jace
JACE
Why does it feel like a fire engine drove over my head?
After my eyes crack open, I stare at the clock. It’s three in the morning. I’m supposed to be up in a few hours to help my brothers.
The heartbreaking wail grows, and I lean over the crib. “Layla, baby, you’re killing me right now.”
I have a lot more sympathy for Deanna than I did a few days ago. Taking care of a toddler is exhausting. I scoop up my daughter and place her on my shoulder. “It’s okay, sweet pea. I got you.”
I pat her back and go through all the steps—changing her diaper, offering her a bottle, and pacing around my small bedroom.
When nothing works, I make my way out to the living room and sit in the rocking chair.
I’m not sure when she falls asleep because I knock out too, but I have her wrapped in a blanket, nestled securely in the crook of my arm, and braced with a throw pillow.
I’m new to the whole dad thing, but I’ve been an uncle for a long time. This ain’t my first rodeo when it comes to dirty diapers or fussy babies.
But I can admit a whole new level of anxiety when the kid is yours.
And according to the paternity test we took this week, she’s definitely mine.
When I wake a few hours later, the sun is peeking through the window and my arm and ass are both numb, but my kid is staring up at me. “Hey, there, ladybug. Look at that smile. I knew you had it in you.” She hasn’t smiled since Sunday when her mom took off.
Behind me, Paige and the kids rustle around in the kitchen. I lift Layla and kiss the top of her head where little tufts of light brown hair jut up like eighth notes. “We’re gonna be okay, you and me. I’ll figure out this parenting thing.”
My phone lights up on the coffee table, and I lean over to grab it. I have dozens of messages from my bandmates and manager, but I’ve been putting everyone off.
Because they’re not gonna like what I have to say.
Frank’s the only one who knows what’s really going on. Everyone else thinks I’ve got a stomach bug. I should be writing hit songs right now and rehearsing for the tour of my life. Not wiping baby drool off myself.
Groaning, I scrub my face. What am I supposed to do?
Ditch my kid like my asshole parents ditched us?
My dad might have been here physically, but he didn’t give a shit about me and my brothers.
He might as well have taken off like our mother.
And when he actually paid attention, it was to rough us up or boss us around.
I haul my ass off the rocker, both legs half asleep, and limp toward the kitchen as Gabe and Austin take off for the barn. Yawning, I pat Layla’s back. “Sorry if we woke y’all last night.”
Paige waves me closer. “No one’s complaining. Happy she settled down for you.” She holds out her arms. “Give me that baby. Go shower or whatever, and come back for some breakfast. I made pancakes.”
“I’d hug you, but I reek. Thanks, sis.” I hand her Layla, who doesn’t fuss.
“Anytime.” Paige coos at my daughter and smooths back her crazy head of hair.
After I shower, eat, and apologize to my brothers for missing the morning chores, Rhett pats me on the back while I try to feed the baby. “It’s cool. Zey covered for you.”
My eyes meet Isaiah’s across the kitchen. “Thanks.”
He nods slowly. “Happy to help.”
Yeah, I was a dick to him last weekend. Guess I’ve bottled up a few feelings about him taking off the way he did, but I’m starting to appreciate that, like with Deanna, I probably don’t have the full picture.
Paige reads something on her phone and her eyes widen. “Jace, whatcha doing in an hour? Because I think Baylee and I figured out a solution for you.”
“Sorry, I’m tired as fuck. Spell it out to me like I’m five. A solution for what?”
She grabs my shoulder and shakes it hard enough that Layla’s eggs topple off my spoon and back onto the plate. “For your tour. So you can go.”
That wakes me up, but hope is a dangerous thing. I lean my elbow on the table and stare down at my daughter’s food. “I’m not leaving her behind.”
That was something Rhett suggested. Said that he and Paige would watch her. Baylee and Mav offered to help too.
They’re beyond generous, but I can’t leave Layla when she just lost her mother. Maybe if she was older, and I wouldn’t be gone for months, but not like this.
Paige smiles like that’s the right answer. “I know you won’t. That’s why Baylee and I found another possibility. How do you feel about getting a nanny?”