Ruckus (Sinners of Saint #2)(88)

"Thank you, Keeley, for freaking my girlfriend out five minutes into our brunch." I smirked, casually asking my mom to pass me a bowl of who-the-fuck-knows just to keep things moving. "Two can play this game. I'll be waiting for your future boyfriend with an arsenal of questions about his sperm quality and parenting methods when the time comes."

Rosie put a hand on my thigh.

"Dude, it's okay." She smiled with her whole face. "Yeah. I have a passion for children. I would love to be a mother one day," she added after a pause. "And I think your brother would make an amazing dad. There, baby. Just making sure the anxiety is distributed evenly between us." She patted my cheek and winked.

I laughed because she expected me to, but it never reached my eyes. Or any bone in my body, for that matter.

"I'm rolling with whatever you want." I clasped the back of her neck, planting a kiss on her temple. "Three kids. Ten kids. One. None. Don't give a damn as long as it's with you."

As I said it, I knew that my balls would never forgive me for the cheese I just poured all over my reputation, but my balls had no say in this. Besides, I didn't hear them complain when Rosie licked them last night in-between sucking my cock. My dignity was a price I was willing to pay for her happiness, and I was hoping she'd read between the lines and understand that her infertility issues weren't going to come between us.

Less children = More Rosie for me. No complaints there.

"Awww," Payton cooed. "Someone grew a heart."

"What did you put in his drink, Rosie?" Keeley snort-laughed, pretending to fan herself with her hand. "This is not something my brother would say unless he'd lost a bet."



       
         
       
        

My mom smiled so big I thought her face was going to collapse into the back of her neck. Dad looked a tad uncomfortable, but it couldn't have been the topic. He was the one drilling it into my head that I needed to settle down. Dad kept moving his gaze from his Bvlgari watch and back to me. Eli Cole wasn't a man who was easily irked.

"When are you guys leaving Todos Santos?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning. We'll be spending Thanksgiving dinner at the Spencers." I threw a strawberry into my mouth and chewed. Maybe he was pissed that I was staying with Rosie's family, but he ought to know that winning her parents over was a priority this year. Rosie's parents didn't completely hate me-I helped them get their shit together back when they moved to L.A. and Vicious was in New York playing Romeo to Emilia-but I got where they came from. If I had two daughters and a bastard who boned both of them, I'd be suspicious of his intentions, too.

I needed to rehab my image, make sure they knew chasing a LeBlanc ass wasn't a hobby of mine.

"Would you be able to drop by afterwards?" Dad smoothed his Polo shirt. "There are a few matters we need to discuss."

Mom's face changed, her eyes were pleading with me now.

"Are you guys getting a divorce?" My voice was dry, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, Lord!" My mom scoffed, clutching her pearls. "What are you talking about, Dean? Of course not."

"Someone dying?" I proceeded.

"No," Dad said.

"And none of these girls are preggo?" I threw a thumb in Keeley and Payton's direction. My bet was on Payton. Kid was trouble. But my parents shook their heads in unison, denying this, too.

"In that case, I'll take a rain check." I took a sip of my water, leaning back in my chair. "We have a board meeting in our L.A. office after dinner that will take some time."

"Everything all right?" Dad furrowed his brows. I shrugged.

"We're twisting Vicious's arm. He needs to switch branches with Trent. He wants to be close to his parents now that Val is gone."

As the words left my mouth, I'd realized that Rosie didn't know shit about it. I forgot to tell her. Didn't think she'd care. But, of course, she would. Her parents lived in Vicious's house, and her sister was having his fucking baby. Though I knew Vicious would never sell the mansion-he loved it too much-I still felt like a dick, throwing it in her face out of nowhere.

She leaned forward and my fingers were no longer touching her back, and her lips were no longer smiling, and fuck, I was an asshole. She had every right to give me grief about it. 

"You can still make it, even if late," my dad insisted. Goddamn, what was with him today?

"No can do, Dad. Told you. This could take a while. If you have something to tell me, do."

"I'd rather not."

I put my silverware down-slowly-taking the time to scan every curious face at the table before I spoke again. "We're family. All of us." My hand found Rosie's neck, but she pulled away, gently yet firmly, making sure I knew I was in the doghouse.