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“We’re not a family!” Leia shouts back.
Maybe not yet, firecracker. But I’ll do everything in my power to make us one.
Chapter 24
Get it – when you realize why women throw their panties at rockstars
Leia
“Do you want to call and check on Isla?” Fender asks as we walk to Electric Vibes, the one and only bar in Winter Falls.
We just finished dinner at the Naked Falls Brewery with Indigo and Virginia and his bandmates and are off to the bar for a few drinks. I’m excited since I haven’t had a chance to visit the bar yet. I heard it’s a hippie haven.
I check my phone. “She hasn’t messaged and I don’t have any missed calls. She’s probably fine.”
She’s staying overnight at her friend Storm’s house. I spoke to Honor when I dropped her off and I feel confident my daughter’s in good hands.
“I don’t mind,” Fender says.
I study his face. Worry lines bracket his eyes. “Do you want to call and check up on her?”
He shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt. The last time she was away for the night, she got sick.”
She didn’t get sick, Storm did, but I don’t correct him. Not when it’s obvious he’s worried about my daughter. Butterflies flutter with excitement in my stomach at his show of concern. I’ve waited a long time for someone to share the burden of raising a child with.
He’s not sharing the burden, I remind myself. He’s temporary.
Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.
I ignore my inner voice and dial Isla’s number.
“I’m fine, Mom,” she answers.
“Well, hello to you, too,” I greet and then throw Fender under the bus. “Fender wants to say hi.”
He snatches the phone from me. “Having fun, cutie pie?”
I can’t hear her answer but the smile on his face is enough for me. My ovaries nearly explode at those dimples appearing for my daughter.
Let’s make a baby with him.
My inner voice must be high. I am not going to have a baby with this man. I’m not ready to have a serious relationship with him. A baby isn’t a possibility.
Need I remind you of the liar, liar pants on fire situation?
I ignore my obviously drunk inner voice as Fender ends the call and hands me my phone.
“Satisfied?”
Before he has a chance to answer, Gibson pushes his way in between us. “Who were you calling cutie pie? Are you two in a throuple? Can I join?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I promise not to behave.”
Fender slaps a hand on Gibson’s face and pushes him away. “No.”
Gibson juts out his bottom lip. “But I’m fun. I promise I’m fun.”
Before I can tell Gibson I don’t fall for pouting, a woman screeches, “I don’t care, Uncle Mercury.” She’s standing in front of the bar blocking Old Man Mercury from the entrance.
“Get out of my way, Mercy,” he grumbles at her.
