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I’d always been a lot more… traditional than the other guys. I knew pretty much my whole life that I wanted a wife, a house, and kids. I’d never been big on fucking around with every woman who would have me, or partying excessively.
I liked the simpler things in life.
“I can see that,” she agreed. “I mean, my niece isn’t even, you know,hereyet. But I find myself scrolling baby clothes online, and wondering if or when I can move to get an extra bedroom for when she can come visit as she gets older.
“Do you hold the babies? My sister says her husband is terrified of holding the baby. She’s worried he won’t get over it.”
“He will,” I said. “I was scared as fuck the first time Delaney put her baby in my arms. They’re so small,” I said, remembering this bone-deep fear that I could possibly crush him or hurt him because he was so delicate, and I was so damn big.
“And you’re so big,” she agreed, nodding, understanding.
“Exactly. But it wasn’t long before I became the Baby Whisperer around here. Dell swears that when the babies get too fussy for her or Judge to soothe, I’m the only one who can do it.”
“I get that. You have a very… calming presence,” she said. “Do you feel calm?” she asked, brows pinched. “Like, I always wonder if people who have that calming presence actually feel calm themselves, or if it is just something they project, but they are as harried as the rest of us inside.”
“Ah… I dunno. Not much gets a rise out of me,” I admitted. “I’ve always been kinda even-tempered.”
“That must be peaceful,” she said. “I can never shut that voice inside my head up. And it’s super easy to get to me. I care too much about everything all at once. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I care way too much what everyone thinks of me too. So I’m forever thinking about what others are thinking about what I am doing or saying or how I look literally all the time.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” I said, shaking my head. I couldn’t relate. I generally didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of me. But I could empathize with how overwhelming it must be to always wonder what everyone around you is thinking of you and how you were presenting yourself or living your life. “You’re always perfect,” I added, watching as her gaze skittered away, uncomfortable with the praise.
I didn’t know how long I had with her.
But I was suddenly dedicated to making her see herself the way I saw her.
“Is that French toast?” Colter’s voice, rough with booze and lack of sleep, called as he walked into the kitchen.
“Everleigh had a craving,” I told him, waving toward the stove where the platter of food was sitting.
“You’re a good woman, Everleigh,” he told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he moved past her.
Everyone started rolling in then, changing the little playing house vibe we had going on.
She was laughing at something, likely obnoxious flirting, that Raff was saying to her when my phone started to ring in my pocket.
Simon Evertz’s name was on the screen.
“Hello?” I answered, moving outside to take the call.
“You by her?” he asked.
“No, I stepped outside. Why? What’s up?”
“My office got a call today. From the county jail,” he said.
“County? Gav?” I asked, stomach tensing.
“Yeah,” he said, sighing hard.
“What did he want?”
“Not to hire me,” Simon said. “He openly admitted that he can’t afford me.”
“But…” I started.
“Yeah,” Simon said. “If he’s some big fucking deal drug dealer, how can’t he afford my fees?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “What did he want then?”
