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Jig: Where you at?
Copper: Dotty’s Ice Cream.
Jig: WTF? Whatever, be there in 5.
Interesting. What the hell could that be about?
“Good, princess?”
Beth looked up at him, a ring of chocolate around her smiling mouth. “Yummy. Want some?” She held her dripping spoon up for him. Damn, this kiddo got to him every time. Hard to maintain the image of a tough as hell MC president if he was melting over Beth faster than her ice cream.
“You bet I do.” He made a big show of growling and devouring the ice cream which had Beth laughing once again.
“Copper?”
“Yeah, princess.” He sucked his thick, chocolatey concoction through the insufficient straw.
“How come you aren’t my daddy?”
There went the shake, straight down his windpipe. Copper coughed as the cold liquid not only cut off his air supply but caused an icy burn in the back of his throat. “Well, I, uh…” Jesus, why the fuck wouldn’t she ask Shell this shit?
“Cuz, look,” Beth said, grabbing one of her pigtails. “Our hair is almost the same color.”
That was true. Shell’s was a little more strawberry blond than true red, but it wasn’t far off. What the hell was he supposed to say now? Well, rumor has it, your mother fucked some asshole who looked like me because she was…what? Bitter? Lonely? Desperate? Those questions had tortured Copper from the moment he’d seen Beth’s red curls. “Well, what did your mom tell you about your dad?”
Huh, why hadn’t he thought to ask her this before? Shell was a steel trap on the subject of Beth’s’ father, but she must have told the squirt something, right? And it wasn’t like Beth could keep a secret to save her life.
“Mommy said there are lots of types of families. Some with a mommy and a daddy. Some with just a mommy, or just a daddy. Even some with two daddies or two mommies.” She recounted it without emotion in that way children had of making everything seem simple. Even though she spoke, ninety percent of her focus was on scooping both ice cream and sprinkles onto her spoon. “But I heard her on the phone with Auntie Toni once, and she said my dad was a ‘piece of shit sonofabitch.’ What’s that mean? It’s bad words, right?”
Despite himself, Copper laughed. “Yeah, baby girl, there are a few bad words in there. Truth is, princess, I do not know much about your dad. I never met him.”
Beth grunted as she shoved a giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “I wif you were my dad,” she said, mouth full. “Maybe you should mawwy mommy.”
Whose great idea was it to hang out with Beth?
“Yeah, Prez, why don’t you marry her mommy?” Jig stood at the end of their table, a snarky grin on his scarred face.
“Jig!” Beth said. “Want some ice cream?” She held her spoon up to him.
“Thanks, kiddo, I’m okay.” He slipped into the booth next to Beth. She scooted until she was seated right next to him, all flush against his side. Jig tensed for a moment, then relaxed and softened his face. The guy had a daughter and a wife who had been murdered in cold blood about seven years ago. It had taken him ages to be able to stand the sight of Beth, let alone touch her. He’d come a long way, mostly with the help of his woman, Izzy. “So, Cop?”
Copper scowled at his treasurer before shifting his attention to Beth. Of course, now she wasn’t focused on her ice cream, but staring at him intently. “Honey, your mom and I are not going to get married.” He didn’t want to hurt the kiddo’s feelings, but he had to make sure she understood the finality of the situation.
Beth frowned, her little forehead scrunching in displeasure. “But don’t you think she’s pretty?”
Pretty? He thought she was a knockout, sexy as fuck. But he wouldn’t be saying that to the woman’s four-year-old daughter.
“Yeah, Cop,” Jig goaded. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”
“Yes, Bethy, I think your mommy is very pretty. She’s beautiful.”
Beth beamed. “Like Cinderella. She gets married.”
With a groan, Copper said. “Beth, I’m too old for your momma. She’s a lot younger than I am. So we can’t get married.”
The frown persisted for a moment before disappearing. “Okay,” she said with a nod as she went back to her sugary treat.
Guess that was that. If only all problems were so easy to solve.
Now that Beth was occupied once again, he looked at Jig whose eyes were narrowed and mouth flat.
“You need to get the fu—heck over that sh—stuff, Cop,” Jig said.
“Jigsaw.” Copper made sure Jig couldn’t misunderstand the warning in his tone.
“Screw that, Cop. Get over yourself. She needs a man, she needs you.” Jig grabbed a napkin and handed it to Beth who wiped up a puddle she’d dripped on the table.
