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They kept taking friendly shots at each other as they crossed the social area, sending a wave to the Masters’ corner without stopping. The aftercare room was at the far end of the building, away from the chatter and bustle of the rest of the club.
“Want me to take her for a while? Your puny arms must be getting tired.”
Time to share, Evander thought. He paused at the doorway to the room, transferring Callie carefully as her head lolled limply onto Eli’s shoulder. “I bench press more than what she weighs, brother. But if you need to test your stamina in your old age, go right ahead.”
Elias smirked. “All my stamina’s in my cock, boy. I don’t need to test it.”
Callie chose that moment to rouse, moaning, “Ouchie.”
Still limp, eyes closed, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. “Hey, sweetness. You staying with us for a while, or drifting off again?”
“Come to bed with me, Daddy?” she mumbled.
“Soon, babygirl. Daddy Eli’s going to cuddle you while I fetch some water. Are you thirsty?”
“Mmm. Juice.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Reaching around Elias, he opened the door into the area he’d designed with peace and quiet in mind. “Find somewhere to sit with her; I’ll go to the bar. Beer?”
“Who’s driving?”
Ah, fuck. That hadn’t even crossed his mind. “I’ll drive. You do it every damn day.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll take a Scotch.”
Evander bent and kissed Callie on her ravaged mouth. “Behave, babygirl.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She blinked sleepily. “I has juice?”
Elias carried her away, over toward a couch positioned beneath the glass conservatory. The treated windows denied nosy assholes an opportunity to spy on members from the outside, but anyone on the inside had the most wonderful view of the night sky—moon and stars included.
He was looking forward to sitting over there with them, giving Callie the aftercare she so richly deserved, spending quality time with the two people who meant fucking everything to him.
Once Elias’s plan came to fruition, nothing in heaven or hell would keep them apart.
Feeling inexplicably buoyant, Evander made his way to the smaller version of the bar next door, recognizing the man wiping a rag over the oak top. “I swear, there’s a guy who looks just like you serving members next door.”
“Evander!” Genuine pleasure shone in gray eyes. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long.” Concern gnawed at his gut; up close, Liam looked…ill. “How are things at home? Sierra doing okay?”
“We’re holding on, I guess. We just passed the anniversary of Wyatt’s death, so that always hits hard.” The rag disappeared under the bar.
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“Doesn’t help that we’re struggling with baby fever. Sierra wants one;Iwant one. None of the hormone treatments have worked, and she cries if I mention adoption.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, then slapped them on the wood. “Sorry, shouldn’t be spilling this shit over you. You’re actually here to play tonight.”
“A fresh ear helps sometimes. Is there anything I can do?” Evander lowered his voice and leaned in. “I know fertility specialists and drugs aren’t cheap, Liam. Do you need cash, connections, anything at all?”
The blond Dom swallowed hard. “I can’t take anything from you, Evander. There aren’t words to describe what that offer means to me, but…”
“I get it. If that changes, you let me know.”
Clearing his throat, Liam flicked his fingers toward Elias and Callie. “Are they yours?”
Evander studied him carefully. The boy had lost weight, was looking gaunt along the cheekbones. The Avalon branded shirt he wore wasn’t hugging the tight, honed body he remembered from his last visit. Lines of stress scored his eyes and mouth, adding a decade to his age.
“Both of them,” he confirmed. “It’s all very new.”
