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“Come on,” he grins. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Ahh, yeah, it was,” I agree as Gigi’s eyes widen in fear.
His response is cut off by the sound of Jax kick starting his bike. The noise scares the shit out of all of the babies and makes the little ones burst into tears, apart from Georgie. She’s used to the sound and giggles, more than ready for her turn.
Jax takes off and soon enough, Cassie is jumping to her feet and kickstarting her bike to race after him, a trick that took her far too long to master, but I can’t hold it against her. Kick starting these fuckers takes a lot of skill and strength, but she was too fucking stubborn to buy a bike with a push-button start.
“Wow, they’re good,” Gigi murmurs beside me as Hudson crawls to her legs, demanding to be picked up. She scoops him into her arms and he grins up at her with his big toothless smile.
“Yeah, apart from Bri and Elle, the rest of us have been riding since we were kids.”
“So, you’re all that good?” she grins.
“Pretty much.”
“Is there anything you can’t do?” she questions.
Logan scoffs, being the smartass he is, and arches a brow in challenge. “Trust me, there’s plenty of things this fucker can’t do. I can make a list if you’d like.”
“Watch it, asshole,” I throw back at him. “Otherwise, I’ll be forced to tell Gigi all about the broken dick incident.”
Gigi looks at Logan, trying her hardest to hold back a grin. “Broken dick incident?” she questions.
Logan shoots daggers at me, shaking his head. “Low blow, man. Low blow,” he says before glancing back at Gigi. “And for the record, it wasn’t a broken dick. My dick was fine. It could do all the things it was supposed to do.”
Elle smirks at her husband. “You keep telling yourself that.”
Logan turns on his wife, shaking his head. “Oh yeah?” he challenges. “You wanna see how unbroken my dick really is?”
Elle squeals as Logan barrels into her and hoists her over his shoulder, carrying her away with a hand on her ass. Gigi laughs and looks back at me. “Do I even wanna know?”
“Definitely not,” I murmur before nodding out toward Jax and Cassie as they fly across the property together. Carter’s twins watch them with wide eyes, making me wonder if they’re going to ditch ice hockey for riding. “You do anything like this as a kid?”
“Not really,” she says. “I’m an only child with two workaholic parents. My childhood consisted of my nanny screaming at me and making sure my homework was done before my parents got home.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, unsure why it bothers me so much.
Georgie cuts off our conversation as she gets up and grabs her bag of riding gear and starts trying to haul it toward us. The bag is practically three times as big as she is. My lips pull into a smirk, and I watch as she gets tired and stops in front of Bri to pull all the contents out. Bri gets the hint and starts getting her ready, so I do what any other parent would do and get her four-wheeler warmed up, knowing it better be ready before she is, otherwise, we’re going to have problems.
With all her safety gear on, Georgie rushes across the grass and instantly jumps on her four-wheeler, putting her hands on the handlebars and pretending to rev the engine, making sure to spit all over me as she mimics the noise of a dirt bike.
Gigi gets up with her phone to record her first ride, and I’m thankful. This is a moment with my daughter I’d like to remember and show her when she’s older. Hell, I’ve gotten used to taking lots of photos and videos after realizing that I didn’t have nearly enough memories recorded of Sara. Though the ones I do have are plastered across my home for Georgie to soak up.
I go through all the instructions with Georgie, making sure she knows the stop from the start, and watch as she takes off like a bat out of hell, the four-wheeler sending a wave of dirt spitting up behind her.
Georgie darts across the property, and my heart falls right out of my fucking ass.
Shit.
I race after her, my phone, wallet, and keys all falling out of my pockets as I go. “Slow down,” I scream at her giggling back, but of course she’s having too much fun.
Jax races up on his bike beside her, keeping close in case we need him, as I all but lunge for Georgie, forcing her to ease up on the accelerator, and when she finally stops, she beams up at me. “Fun, Daddy,” she laughs.
“Yeah, fun isn’t a word I would use to describe that, kid,” I say before quickly adjusting the accelerator so she can’t go quite so fast. With my heart firmly back in my chest and covered head to toe in dirt, I give Georgie another lecture. “Alright, Missy, you good?” I ask.
