In all his life, he’d never thought about having kids. He didn’t want to project any of his trauma onto a child. Most of the women he fucked with didn’t want them either, so it was a win. If he did spend time with a woman who had children, he had never interacted with them or tried to be some type of role model. It was why he was still single now. You weren’t going to come across many women without kids. It was no judgment for it either; it just wasn’t his preference. At least not until Inari blew into his life. Now his mind was wandering to her and Dane while Tiara’s mouth moved a mile per minute. He couldn’t help but examine her, looking for similarities. Finally, she took a breath and sipped her strawberry lemonade. Squinting up at him, she lowered her cup.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
Moose exhaled and shook his head. “Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” she replied
That hit a little too close, and Moose smirked to deflect before looking off.
“Maybe I am.”
“Well, I like you,” she added, shrugging.
It was the simplest, sweetest thing, and his chest tightened as something broke open inside him. He checked the time on his Patek watch. It was almost an hour since he’d picked her up now. He wondered if Tulla knew and was somewhere going crazy.
“How? You don’t even know me. You been talking this whole time,” he jested with her, and Tiara giggled. “And how you just lie to that woman like that? I’m a stranger.”
“Nu-uh. You said your name was Moose,” she corrected him, taking a bite of her last taco.
She chewed in a circular motion, reminding him of all the times Mozzi and Kong talked about how he ate his food.
“Plus, I know good people. My mama is a police officer, and my daddy is a lawyer.” She lifted her cup to her lips and wrangled the straw into her mouth again. “What do you do for work?”
“I own a tattoo shop,” Moose responded.
“Did you do your own tattoos?” Tiara studied the many ink designs on his hands and neck.
“Some of them. I went to other artists, too, though.”
“They look cool. I want tattoos when I grow up,” Tiara acknowledged.
Moose tensed up and cringed inwardly at that. She was only eight, talking about tattoos. It was obvious from her conversation that Tiara was both smart and perceptive as hell.
“We better go.” He inhaled the last of his taco and grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands.
He wasn’t going to run or hide. Tiara was safe. Wasn’t like he didn’t bring her back. Was it technically kidnapping? Maybe. Once they were settled in the car, he turned the heat on and looked over at her.
“Where do you live?”
She rattled off her address with no hesitation. Within thirty minutes, they were pulling in front of the large stone brick home with a two-car garage. It had to be at least three levels, with a perfectly manicured lawn and hedges. A black Mercedes sat in one parking space, and a silver Range Rover came speeding down the block moments after Moose parked. It whipped into the driveway, and the engine wasn’t even turned off before Tulla hopped out, fuming.
“Uh oh.” Tiara’s eyes stretched, watching her mother stomp toward Moose’s whip.
He got out calmly, and Tiara did the same. Tulla rushed to her daughter, examining her before pulling her into a hug and glaring at Moose while embracing her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mama. Moose took me to get tacos, then we just sat at the park and talked,” Tiara explained like this was normal. “Can he come inside and?—”
“No. Moose should be leaving.”
Tulla gritted her teeth and stood tall, keeping a protective arm around her daughter and grilling Moose when he joined them on the sidewalk.
“But—” Tiara pouted.
“Tiara, you need to go inside and start any homework you may have. Say goodbye to Moose,” Tulla ordered as her front door opened, and her husband appeared.
“Fine. Bye, Moose.”
