Barrick wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head to his shoulder. “It’s okay, firecracker. It will pass.” He kissed the top of her head. “Have you been sick all day?”
She nodded, leaning against him weakly.
“You should have stayed home,” he muttered. “I told you I don’t like you traveling without me when you’re—”
“Pregnant,” I blurted out, realization hitting me dead center. “You’re pregnant?”
“Apparently,” she groaned and bent in half to vomit at our feet.
“Damn, again?” Emmie Armstrong stuck her head out of the SUV. “Ah, baby girl. Let’s get you home. You need to rest. Momma will make you something to help with the nausea.”
Once Mia was done puking, Barrick picked her up and put her in the back seat beside her mom. She cuddled up to the woman who looked like an older version of her and closed her eyes. “This sucks so bad,” she mumbled.
“I know, honey. Believe me, I know.” Emmie stroked her hair as we got in. Once we were settled and the guard behind the wheel pulled into traffic, she glanced at me. “Did I hear you’re going to be a father, too?”
“No, ma’am,” I told her. “Not happening. I wouldn’t trust that bitch with a dog, let alone make her a mother.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“It’s a long story,” Barrick said with a sigh. “But basically, his parents set him up last night. They announced to everyone they knew would spread the news like wildfire that he was marrying his high school girlfriend, and when he tried to tell everyone the truth, she put the nail in the coffin by announcing that she is pregnant.”
“So, you’re not getting married, and there is no baby?” she asked for clarification.
“Fuck no to both,” I bit out. “Ma’am.”
She grinned at me. “Okay, then. Well, I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t care what the hell they say or do. It’s not happening. I just don’t want Nevaeh to get upset,” I told her honestly.
She pressed her lips together for a moment, then shrugged. “That, I can’t promise. I mean, Nevaeh is kind of fragile right now with her dad’s illness, and I can never determine what that girl will do when she’s not herself. Okay, scratch that. I can’t figure her out on the best of days, let alone when she’s upset. But I can deal with the media and get the story squashed if you want. And I can also deal with the parentals and the ex.”
“Thanks, Momma,” Mia told her weakly. “I knew you would help.”
“Anything to make it easier on you, my baby.” Emmie kissed her forehead and gave me a wink. “Braxton is family. Something you should know by now, kid. I take care of my family.”
For some reason, knowing she was going to help me out of this mess made something burn in my chest. In the two years Mia had been in my life, her family had made me feel more a part of their inner world than my own parents ever had. They included me in everything, from Christmas to getting cards and text messages on my birthday. Emmie and her husband even invited me to their house during summer breaks when Mia flew home for a few weeks.
It wasn’t just the Armstrongs. Nevaeh’s parents were just as welcoming and accepting as Mia’s. Maybe more so. When Nevaeh was away at school, they texted me at least once a week. It was initially to check in on her and get an honest answer. But they would always include me in their texts, asking how I was and even inquiring on how Sasha was doing. Then, I got the weekly texts even when Nevaeh wasn’t in Virginia. More often than not, it was Lana Stevenson, and I could feel the maternal concern she had for me even three thousand miles away. But Drake would text me from time to time too, separately from his wife.
Now, however, I wondered if things were going to be different with them. I wanted to be with Nev—would fucking be with her—and even if they didn’t like it, she was going to be mine.
Chapter 9
Braxton
B ecause I wanted to surprise Nevaeh, we went back to Mia’s parents’ house instead of going to Nevaeh’s, even though I was itching to see her again. When I realized I had a few texts from her, I replied back, pretending like I was busy and that I would call her later that night so I could tell her happy birthday.
Mia spent the rest of the afternoon in her room resting after her mom made her some kind of lemony concoction she said worked wonders for morning sickness. Whatever it was seemed to help because Barrick told us she passed out after she finally got comfortable and was sleeping peacefully.
That Mia was pregnant freaked me out a little. I didn’t like seeing her sick or hurting in any shape or form. She had life growing inside of her, a new member of my family, and I was already praying it was a boy because I didn’t know how either Barrick or I were going to keep up with all the dead bodies we would have to hide once a girl started getting noticed by boys. Because if it was a girl, and she looked like her mother, they would be noticing early, and I didn’t think Virginia was big enough for all the bastards I would need to bury for touching Uncle Braxton’s precious baby.
I told Barrick that, and his face turned just as green as Mia’s had earlier. “Same, bro. Same.”
Emmie laughed as she listened to us while she made us each a sandwich in the kitchen. “You two are adorable, but fuck, you make my heart so damn happy that you’re Mia’s.”
“I would love a daughter. A little version of Mia running around, making my life difficult and complete, with red pigtails bouncing all over the place. I’d be okay with that,” Barrick said, his eyes widening at the truth of his own admission. “But I think I would be a basket case from the second she’s born.”
“Oh, I know you would be,” she assured him with a grin. “That is what is going to make you a great father, Barrick. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to that feeling of panic when you think of your children. Trust me, it never goes away. It just gets easier to accept as reality.” She twisted her lips and placed his plate in front of him. “Or you hire some retired Marine security heir to watch over her, they fall in love, and you start to breathe a small fraction easier.”
“You know many of those fuckers?” he asked with a wry grin.
Sighing heavily, she shoved at the back of his head playfully. “I know many people, from every walk of life. Lucky for you, I didn’t have to ask for a favor and make you disappear.”
Even though she was still grinning, I knew in my gut she wasn’t joking. I likened Emmie to a mob boss with how easily she could get things “taken care of.” I’d thought my cousin Lyla was the most badass woman I’d ever met until I met Mia’s mom. I possessed equal parts respect for and fear of the little redhead with big green eyes that looked so much like her daughter, I couldn’t help but love the woman.
After we ate, I showered in the guest room that had become my regular room when I visited.
The house Mia grew up in wasn’t the mansion I’d called home the first eighteen years of my life, but it wasn’t a shack. It was the largest house on her block, with six bedrooms, right on the beach. There was a guesthouse out back where the two bodyguards stayed when they weren’t escorting Mia’s mother or another member of her family. But the biggest difference was that this house was full of warmth and love that hit a person direct center as soon as they stepped across the threshold.
By the time Mia woke from her nap, her father and brother were home from golfing, and we left soon after for the party. The Armstrongs lived in Malibu, but Nevaeh’s house was in Santa Monica. We all piled into Emmie’s SUV, minus the bodyguards, and made the drive over.
There were already vehicles everywhere when we pulled up. The driveway was overflowing, and people had parked on the street, all of them there for Nevaeh’s birthday party. Climbing out of the back, I double-checked that the present I’d brought for her was still in my pocket and then followed everyone to the house.
Emmie rang the doorbell, and only a moment later, the door swung open. One of Jesse Thornton’s twin sons answered the door. Luca and Lyric were identical, and in the past, the only way I’d been able to determine who was who was that Luca seemed to have Shane Stevenson’s daughter by his side at all times. Then they had started inking their bodies right after their eighteenth birthday, so I’d been able to tell which one was which easier.
“Welcome,” Luca greeted, smirking at his aunt, the sleeve of ink on his left arm telling me which twin he was. “Come in, if you dare.”
“Fuck,” Nik muttered. “What have you done this time?”
Luca’s expression turned wounded, but there was amusement shining out of his eyes that constantly changed from one shade of brown to another. “That hurts, Uncle Nik. Really, you hit me right in the feels, man.”
“Yeah, whatever. Now what did you do?”
Luca’s answer was to wink and step back, waving us in. “The birthday girl isn’t here yet. Guess it’s cool to be late to your own party. I mean, I didn’t even show up to mine, so whatevs.”