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“They can’t be that bad,” I expressed, not feeling sorry for him. The little shit deserved it. Karma. He shouldn’t be so mean to her in the first place.
Skyler gave me a stern expression as if she was thinking the same thing I was. “You have no idea. Harley may not be Noah’s kid, but she was the first baby girl in the Jameson family, and for that fact alone, she has two fathers. And don’t get me started on her grandfather Lucas and Uncle Mason, on top of the good ol’ boys who are all assholes with hearts of gold. You’ll meet everyone eventually.”
“I can’t wait.”
“You know what? You should come to one of our MC barbeques.”
“MC?”
“Yeah, motorcycle club. My husband is VP and his brother Creed is the Prez. Everyone would love to meet you, they’ve already heard so much about you from me. The whole family is as grateful for you coming into the Pierces’ lives as I am. You’ll fit right in like Aiden. He may own a Harley, but he refuses to join the MC, much to Noah’s complaints, but it doesn’t take away how much we all love him.”
Aiden has a Harley?
“My husband never had a good example of a father, and Aiden stepped in when he was fifteen and took on that role. For that alone the family is thankful. They owe a lot to Aiden for saving Noah in a sense.”
Hearing her speak his name, had my already overly active mind spinning out of control. Leading me back to wanting to know every last detail about him.
I casually probed, “Is Dr. Pierce grateful I’m here too?”
“Of course. I’m sure wherever Bailey is, she is as well. You’ve been a godsend, Camila.”
“Skyler, where is Mrs. Pier—”
Her cellphone rang, cutting me off.
“It’s Noah, I have to run. We’ll catch up tomorrow.” She kissed Journey on the forehead. “Have fun with your favorite person.”
“Bah!” she replied, agreeing with her.
Skyler left, leaving me disappointed.
“Journey, do you know where your momma is?”
“Bah, gah, bah, bah, bah, dah.”
“Is that right?”
“Fah, gab, bah.”
“Does that mean you want a cookie?”
Her head bobbled.
“You’re so smart. You know what, Little Miss, I think your brother wants me here too, but he’s just too stubborn to admit it. What do you think?”
She bobbled again, more adamantly this time. She didn’t have a clue what I was saying, however it still helped me.
It was funny how a baby could do that.
How holding her in my arms just made everything right in my world. The attachment I had to Journey grew with each passing moment.
We spent the rest of the day playing, dancing, and singing while music played through the speakers. I ignored the sensation of being watched and just enjoyed my time with her. She was standing by the edge of the coffee table holding on, bouncing to the beat.
“Go, Journey, shake your booty! Go, Journey, shake your booty,” I cheered, and she did just that. Sticking her diapered butt out into the air, she wiggled it back and forth, a proud look on her face. My girl wasn’t just copying me, she had rhythm. Music was part of her soul like it was in mine. “That’s it, Little Miss, now shimmy like this.” I showed her, moving my shoulders.
She giggled, trying to move hers without falling. I giggled right along with her.
“Now make your booty bounce, now make your booty bounce!”
