Barreling my way toward the front, I double-check everything before opening the door. The first thing I hear is Harloe's womanly giggle that seems to go straight to my aching member, and a tiny, three-foot-tall bundle of energy screams, "Daddy!"
Immediately, I bend down and pick him up. My large, muscular armbands around him, underneath his little diapered butt, and props him against my large chest. His little arm falls lazily onto my shoulder like he's the king of the world and has no worries, and he instantly starts casing the place like a CSI investigator.
"Cool digs." I snort—this kid.
I give Harloe a warm smile, and before thinking better of it, lean toward her and kiss her on the cheek, taking her off guard. She gasps, and I know right then and there, that's the best sound in the world, apart from Maverick's voice and laugh.
Tickling his belly, I chuckle when he slaps at my hand, unable to keep from laughing. "Ready to meet the gang, little man?"
"Yay!" he screeches excitedly.
Pumped, I take him into the kitchen to meet Leo first. Honestly, and I'll never admit this out loud, I'm a little scared of how the guys will react to him. We've never had to censor anything we do, but with Maverick, we'll have to start.
The instant Leo sees him, I legitimately see the bond forming right before my eyes. Maverick's eyes are wide with wonder as he looks all over Leo, from the lion tattoo spanning his side to the dark scruff lining his jaw. Leo takes in Maverick's face, and short, chubby body.
"So, you're the one causing trouble," Leo says, shooting him a soft smile.
Maverick smirks in return. "Momma says trouble is my ... middle?" He looks back at Harloe as if to make sure he's saying it right, and she smiles while nodding. He turns back to Leo with a grand smile. "Middle name. Hi, I'm Mav Trouble."
We all break out into a fit of laughter. Leo's eyes flit from Maverick to me, where he gives me a shit-eating grin. Later, he's going to tell me what that's all about, I'm sure. Plus, I probably already know what it’s about.
He's probably thinking the kid is just like me, looks and snarkiness. And you know what? He's not wrong.
"Let's go meet up with Zeke."
"Zeke?" Maverick asks, testing Zeke's name on his tongue. He says it again, "Zeke." Then again. "Zeke." And the third time, none of us are ready for it when he tilts his head back and releases this shrill scream that seems to perforate all our eardrums. "Zeke!"
"Maverick, honey." Harloe is right there, through the ringing in our ears, chastising him.
I can rightfully attest that he got his lung power from his mom.
"It's all good, Lo. Boys will be boys." I give her a taunting grin, to which she rolls her eyes.
"Already with that. Geez," she quips. "That won't work forever, Hunt."
Just as Zeke comes calling, I lean in and whisper in her ear, "Forever sounds kinda perfect."
A rosy red tinge scalds her cheeks as she slaps my bicep and leans away. Getting to Harloe is easy, and I like seeing the effect I have on her. The only problem is, I wish I could do something about it.
Slow and steady wins the race, though. America wasn't built in a day, and our forever has more complications than the forefathers had back in the seventeen-hundreds. It's going to take a lot before we're even to the point of trying again.
I'm not saying if, either. It's all a matter of when. Because I refuse to not have Harloe in my life as my wife and the mother of our future children. She may think our past is too hectic and chaotic, but I kind of consider it a blessing. We got through that, in seemingly one piece. And if we can get through that, we can get through anything.
"Hunter, stop."
Smiling, I take her off guard and peck her cheek again. Her blush turns a shade darker, and her eyes search through the room as if to make sure no one saw that.
She better get used to it. I know I don't have any right to kiss and hold her with all things considered. However, with all things considered, I’ll kill anyone who tries to do that job for me. In high school, I could blame it on stupidity, for what made me believe such lies and filth. But I'm more mature now, and I'm ready to pay for my sins.
No matter what it takes.
Every time I feel his eyes on me, I can't help but squirm under his intense, heated gaze. Clearly, Hunter is ready for something more than I can offer him at the moment. Especially with the way he acts toward me—like we've never been apart.
Standing by myself, I watch as the guys circle around Hunter. He proudly has Maverick in his arms, showing him off just like a proud papa. His smile entrances the entire backyard, and dare I say ... me, too.
Sighing, I relax in the shade with my feet curled up under my barely covered butt. While today is reasonably warm to be mid-November, maybe I shouldn't have worn the navy fitted sundress with lace cap sleeves. However, the moment Maverick wanted to wear his tiny little slacks, I knew I wouldn't be able to wear anything remotely comfortable.
Tugging on my hemline, it barely budges an inch. It's not the stretchy type material that I'd usually go for. Instead, it's tough and unrelenting—just like someone I know.
While the guys continue to munch on food, some making conversation with each other and Hunter and Maverick, I choose to sit back and watch how Hunter handles his first role as a dad figure—taking care of the little one’s needs alone.
A snorting laugh catches in my throat when I watch Maverick slap at his burger, and a portion of the ketchup he likes to drown his food in flies through the air and lands on Hunter's shirt. But then, the joy stunts inside while I wait and watch for Hunter's reaction.
Is he going to lash out? I mean, he hasn't yet, but you never know. People hate being embarrassed, and some would consider food on their clothes as embarrassing. Will he tap Maverick's butt or scold him?
However, none of those happen. Hunter merely rakes the offensive condiment off his shirt and wipes it on a napkin before going back into conversation with one of his teammates.
The cookout was only supposed to be a small affair, but when the wind got around that the guys were cooking out for the “coming out” of Hunter being a dad, all their friends came for some food and laughs. It doesn't bother me much, even though I'm the only female here. I'd much rather be by myself than having to make polite conversation with people I don't rightly know.
"Hey, marshmallow!" Easton crows from beside me. I turn my head to see a shit-eating grin on his face.
I give him a small smile and then go right back to watching Hunter and Maverick, not too up for conversation at the moment while I sift through my thoughts. Apparently, Easton doesn't get the memo that I want to be left alone. He sits down right beside me, offering me a cigarette from his pack.
Craning my neck, it's then I think about it. It's been weeks since I've seen Hunter with so much as a butt in his mouth, let alone a full cigarette.
Tilting my head in Hunter's direction, I focus my eyes on Easton. "Did he quit or something?"
Surprisingly, he nods. "Yeah. Right after it came out about little man over there."
I sit back, stumped. "I had no idea."
Admittedly, I did notice there wasn't his usual nicotine cloud wafting around him. Some days, it was stronger than others. Just depended on how stressed he'd been. But, now that I'm thinking about it, I haven't smelled anything on him, save for his cologne and Spearmint.