It'll Be An Adventure (Masters of the Shadowlands #15)(85)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

 

“I hear you.” Rainie shook her head. “I had looking professional down to a science, but now, with Jake, I get dragged to all sorts of high-class functions.”

 

“It doesn’t scare you?”

 

“At first it did. I’ve come to enjoy them though.” Rainie grinned. “I learned the proportion of nice people to assholes is about the same for the rich as for the poor.”

 

“Huh. Good to know.”

 

“Uzuri is amazing at helping me find the right thing to wear.” Rainie picked up her phone. “How about we talk her into joining us on a shopping expedition. Are you free tomorrow night?”

 

“Um.” Murphy blinked. She did have extra money now she wasn’t paying for Farran’s tuition. “Yes, Thursday would be awesome.”

 

“Perfect. Afterward, we’ll find a nice loud bar and work on your dance floor skills.”

 

Oh, good,” she said faintly. Just shoot me now.

 

Rainie laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

 

 

 

On Thursday at Holt’s house, Saxon cheered as the Miami Dolphins got possession of the football. A few of the Shadowlands Masters—Holt, Raoul, Max, and Vance—occupied the couch and chairs as did Murphy’s brother Dugan who’d accepted Saxon’s invite.

 

Down on the floor sprawled several neighborhood teens as well as Josie’s son, Carson, and a couple of his buddies.

 

Over the last year, Holt’s place had become the go-to for watching sports…partly because Josie spoiled them with amazing food.

 

Smiling, Saxon helped himself to the spicy chicken wings.

 

The other reason was… Saxon gestured to Holt’s latest toy, which took up the entire wall. “Yo, dude, you think your television is big enough?”

 

His friend grinned. “For a few years anyway. Then maybe we’ll upsize the house and make a home theater room.”

 

A happy yell came from Carson. “Yes!”

 

“I see the teens outnumber the adults these days.” Vance grinned at the boys on the floor. “Have they talked you into coaching yet?”

 

Holt laughed. “Not football, but Carson volunteered me for soccer.”

 

“Coaching comes with the dad title, I think.” Saxon eyed his friend, pleased with how contented Holt looked. Josie and Carson were good for him. “I knew you’d make a fine father.”

 

And didn’t it warm his heart to see not only Carson grinning and nodding, but all the rest of the teens as well.

 

The next generation was getting to see a fine example of good parenting.

 

But beside Saxon, Dugan frowned, his mouth twisted to one side.

 

“You disagree?” Saxon considered Murphy’s brother.

 

“Oh, hell no. I only wish I’d had a father like Holt.” Dugan rubbed the back of his neck. “Pa called earlier, wanting me to come help him out, and he had a fucking meltdown when I said I was joining you to watch football. With Murph being laid-up, he’s been calling Farran and me. She used to mention going over there to cook or clean, but Jesus, I didn’t realize how often or how much bullshit she put up with. We should have known, should have stepped in.”

 

The guilt in Dugan’s voice was refreshing as was the way he confessed to fucking up.

 

Saxon clapped the man’s shoulder. “You know now and can help me protect her.”

 

“Yeah.” Dugan’s expression went grim. “We will do just that.”

 

Taking some of the empty plates back into the kitchen, Saxon glanced at the wall clock. Almost time. He, Raoul, and Max were joining the women once their clothes-shopping excursion was done.

 

As he headed back to the living room, his phone chimed, and he pulled it out. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

 

“I wanted to check in. You’ll be at the gala this weekend?”

 

“You bet. Are you and Desiree still planning to make it?”

 

“We are. Desiree is looking forward to it.”

 

Of course she was—there would be quite a few big names attending.

 

Saxon suppressed a snort. His father was one of the smartest people he knew, but apparently, beauty and big breasts shut off all the blood to his brain. At least, he’d learned to avoid actresses. Instead, he’d moved to models.

 

Like his stunning, new young wife whose IQ probably wasn’t far above her age. Her highest goal appeared to be to schmooze with the rich and famous.

 

Then again, his father didn’t want a true partnership; he just wanted arm-candy for events, convenient sex, and no inconvenient demands on his time. Who was Saxon to judge as long as the couple were contented.

 

“Have you and your—what is it called, flanker?—recovered from the disaster?” his father asked.

 

“Flanker is the correct term. And yes, we have.”

 

“From the film clip I saw, you were quite concerned about her. Is she someone…special?”

 

This was as good a time as any to tell him. “Yes, Dad, she’s very special.” Saxon smiled at being able to say those words. Remembering her husky-voiced I love you this morning. “Her name is Murphy Chaykovsky. As it happens, she’s an author—ML Chaykovsky.”

 

“Hmm. I’ve seen her books in stores.”

 

Saxon shook his head. His father didn’t read for pleasure; he read to decide what might be suitable for film production.

 

“She’ll be with me at the gala. Maybe I’ll get a chance to introduce you then.” Hopefully. His father tended to be surrounded by people at any event he attended.

 

“Well.” There was a pause, then, “I look forward to meeting your young lady.”

 

Saxon blinked at the unprecedented parental tone. Hmm. Maybe it’d sucked to have missed out on having a parent when young, but at least he escaped being pressured to have children of his own. Like a lot of his friends were feeling now.

 

Please tell me that Dad isn’t going to start making noise about wanting grandchildren.

 

 

 

 

 

“No, that’s not the right bra. Not for a cocktail gown.” Kim tried to pull the bra from Murphy’s hand.