Caroline was almost four and having a hard time adjusting to life without Big Daddy.
They all were.
Cash had cut back his tattoo business to part-time so he could help keep the bar going, Brody had taken over booking the local talent, and their youngest brother, Wade, was dealing with all the legal issues. So if Caroline asked for Hunter to babysit, then he’d babysit.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t give Brody a hard time about it first.
“It’s been five months. Five months! Do you have any idea how long that is for a man who shares his bed with a smoking-hot wife?”
Once upon a time, Hunter had had his own smoking-hot wife, and sharing a bed with Hadley had been beyond fun. Too bad they’d never been in the same place enough to play tangled-sheets tag all that often.
“I just want one night full of foreplay followed by mind-blowing sex, but my daughter is the human equivalent of the walls of Jericho. My hands are blistered, for Christ’s sake,” Brody admitted.
“Sounds like your teen years all over again,” Hunter joked, almost feeling sorry for the guy.
Almost.
Because not only did Brody have a smoking-hot wife, an adorable daughter, the dream career, and the fucking white picket fence—he’d also found a way to make it all work. So yeah, it had been a rough few months, but his cousin was living the dream.
“She bought a bikini, man. Just for this trip. It’s red and has little ties to hold it together. Little itty-bitty ties that wouldn’t stand up to a slight breeze, so don’t screw with me.”
“Someone has to. You seem pretty hard up. If some of the stress of this album was gone, I’d probably heal in time for you two lovebirds to make it to Saint Lucia. There’s this swimming hole that sits at the bottom of a clear blue waterfall, and at night it’s deserted. A bathing-suit-optional kind of situation.” Hunter leaned in and winked. “Just think what a couple in love, without a rug rat running around, could do with all the free time and—”
Brody ran an unsure hand over his face. “Thursday. Seven p.m.”
“You serious?” Hunter smacked the bar top, disbelief fading into anticipation. “This is great. Thanks, man.”
“Yeah, my pleasure,” Brody said drily, and Hunter ignored the eat-shit-and-die expression that went along with it.
“Where do you want to meet? Here? My house?”
“God no,” Brody said, looking as if he was rethinking the whole thing.
“Your office is pretty private. We can always meet there. Neutral territory.”
“That might work,” he said. “Seven o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
Brody looked as if he’d rather be anywherebuthis office on Thursday. “My staff will be gone for the night, so don’t come expecting food or pampering. I’ll get you a face-to-face, but the rest is up to you. No matter what happens, you take Caroline.” Brody’s grin went smug. “The entire weekend. Two nights and three days. Take it or leave it.”
Hunter considered the extra few nights of babysitting and decided the trade was well worth it. Caroline was more mature than he was and acted like a monster only when she didn’t get her way. Not a problem when Uncle Hunter was around.
In Hunter’s world, ladies always got their way.
Realization sunk in that the last step was finally in motion. Suddenly, he felt like a kid who’d just got his first six string.
