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“Don’t do that.” She motions her hand between them. “They are talking about me like I’m not here.”
“They didn't say anything.” My eyes dart between them. I have no idea what is happening, but I’m still amused.
“They do this twin thing.” She raises an eyebrow at them. “You didn’t like my breakfast?”
“We ate all of it,” one of them says defensively.
“And you,” the other mumbles.
“I’m making enough for everyone. Get the plates, A-Team,” Tank tells them, motioning to a cabinet. “Silverware.” He points to another. His gaze comes to me as the twins actually do as he tells them.
“Maybe we should move.” He smirks at me. He’s as amused as I am. These are, after all, the people that brought us together. I have a feeling we’re all going to stay that way.
I glance around the kitchen as Liv sits down in one of the high-top kitchen stools. Tuesday climbs into my lap.
“I’m good.” I smile over at him. He mouths “I love you” and I do it back.
No, I’m better than good because I’m all his.
EPILOGUE
TANK
“Mr. Tanksley! Mr. Tanksley! Over here,”a high-pitched voice calls out.
I swing to my right and see my angel, Aurora, standing in front of her kindergarten teacher, who is waving furiously in my direction. I dodge a couple of other parents walking toward the front of the elementary school. When I reach my girl, I dip down to her level and gather her in my arms.
“How was your day, angel?”
“Good. I’m hungry.”
“I got you a yogurt smoothie.” I pluck the small plastic bottle from my back pocket, uncap the thing and hand it to her.
She gives me a toothy smile and takes a sip. “Bye, Ms. Bingham.” Aurora waves. I straighten and grab my girl’s hand. She doesn’t like to be carried at school because she is not, and I quote, “a baby.”
She is, and always will be, my baby, but I gotta respect her wishes, especially since I’ve been teaching her that she needs to demand that from guys from day one. Her tiny hand is lost in mine.
“Is Ethan home yet?”
Aurora loves her brother more than her parents, but I’m not salty about that. He needs her devotion. The kid had a tough life before he found his way to our house. “Not yet, angel. He’s got practice.”
Her cute mouth turns down in a pout. “I wanted to play with him.”
“He’ll be home in an hour or so. You can play after dinner.”
The cloud clears and she’s happy again. “I think Ms. B likes you. What do you think?”
“I don’t,” I answer honestly, as I unlock the door to my Benz and lift Aurora into the booster seat in the back.
“Paris’s teacher started liking Mr. Hunnicut and then Mr. Hunnicut left his family to be with Paris’s teacher.”
“Sounds like Mr. Hunnicut is an asshole,” I mutter under my breath, but angel ears catches it.
“What’s an asshole?”
I scratch my chin and debate what to tell her. I’ve been a dad to angel for five years and fostered kids for more than that, but I still trip up. It’s because I’m in the gym all day. I opt for truthfulness because knowing a few bad words isn’t going to kill my angel.
“Basically means his head is so far up his ass that he can’t see anything anymore, but it’s a bad word so don’t say it.” I bop her on the head.
