“You’ve been smiling for the past hour straight. It’s freaking me out.”
The party was in full swing. Kids and adults were running around in every direction, squirting each other with the plastic water guns Koen brought. My yard looked like the party store threw up all over it, yet I was the happiest I’d been in a long time, maybe ever. And it was all thanks to the beautiful woman I couldn’t keep my eyes off of.
Sloane.
She was also the reason I’d burned the first package of hot dogs I put on the grill. She’d come out of the house wearing jeans, which molded to her ass, a mint green V-neck sweater––with a little too much V and not enough sweater––and a pair of black cowboy boots on her feet. My girl was dressed to kill and I was in her crosshairs.
“Can’t help it.” I shrugged.
“First Waverly, now you. Is hell freezing over next?”
“What’s wrong, Shayne? Jealous?”
It was a dick thing to say and I immediately had the urge to kick my own ass. Not everyone knew her sob story, but one night over two too many shots of whiskey, she’d opened up to me and Way. About fifteen years ago, Shayne was in love with a woman named Tessa. They’d been in a relationship for a little over two years and Shayne was ready to take it to the next level. She had this whole extravagant night planned, including renting out the restaurant where they'd had their first date. Everything was in place for her to propose, only Tessa didn’t show up. Shayne tried calling butthe number was disconnected. She even went by her apartment, but the locks had been changed. A week went by without a single clue as to where she'd disappeared to. Then one day, Shayne walked past a newsstand and caught a glimpse of the picture on the front of the paper. It was Tessa, wearing a white wedding dress, standing next to a man in a tux. The headline read, “Local Woman Marries Billionaire Oil Tycoon after Yearlong Engagement.” Shayne was heartbroken, devastated, and betrayed. After that, she swore off love.
“Hey, D.” Waverly strolled over to the grill. “Sloane says it’s time for your present.”
“Perfect timing. I was just getting ready to check to make sure Beast hadn’t dug a hole to California.”
We’d put him in my basement, since it was the only soundproof room in the house. He could bark all he wanted and the kids would be none the wiser. It was the perfect solution, or so I thought until I opened the door to my pristine home gym and caught a whiff of the gifts he’d left for me. Gifts. Plural.
“Jesus fucking Christ, what did you do?”
The damn pup thought I was playing a game instead of scolding him, because right in the middle of two ginormous piles of shit, he stretched his front paws out in front of him, raised his ass in the air, and wiggled it back and forth. Then, out of nowhere, he took off like a shot, racing around the room like his fool ass was on fire. Sloane called it the zoomies, I called it destructive, since he didn’t fully have control over his body. How he managed to avoid tromping through any of the land mines he’d strategically placed throughout my gym, I’ll never know. I was just thankful I was able to corral him before he did.
Back upstairs, I quickly attached the fancy leather collararound his neck, along with the dark blue bow Sloane fitted him with last night. He looked ridiculous, in my opinion, but the kids would lose their minds for sure. That was the only thing that mattered.
Scooping him up in my arms, since he didn’t know how to walk properly on a leash yet, I carried him out the front door and around the side of the house. Sloane gathered all ten kids onto a large patchwork blanket she’d spread out on the grass while the adults stood around them. She lifted her head when she heard my approach and winked. I moved in behind my kids, crouched down, and put their present on the ground.
“Mommy and I have one more gift for the two of you.”
They both turned at the sound of my voice. Rogan gasped, Reagan squealed, and the puppy barked. Sloane joined me, placing her hand in the middle of my back.
“He’s going to need a name,” she said.
“You’re a boy?” Ro rubbed his new friend’s head.
“He is, and you two are responsible for him now. That means you’ve got to feed him, help walk him, and clean up his messes.”
“You mean his poops?” Reagan scrunched her nose up.
“Yeah, Love. His poop.”
“Eww.”
Her disgust turned to a fit of giggles as the pup decided he’d found ten new chew toys. He bounced back and forth between all the kids, jumping on their laps, nipping at their chins, and even playing tug-of-war with one of Ro's shoelaces. However, when he tried to lick Reagan’s face, I intervened, lifting her into my arms and settling her on my hip.
“Daddy, he was giving me kisses.”
“I know, baby girl.” I bopped her nose. “But I know where his mouth’s been.”
The customary parts of the birthday party––cutting the cake, singing “Happy Birthday”––were completed. Now the kids, and the majority of my team were chasing the puppy around the yard. I was tossing paper plates with half-eaten pieces of cake on them in a trash bag when Finn approached me.
“Do you remember a while back when you pulled me into your office?”
“Get on with it, Finn. I’ve been expecting this conversation for some time.”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, feet spread wide. “What are your intentions with my sister?”