I’d slept in later than usual, but hell, it was Saturday, and after being on the road, I deserved it. Plus, I didn’t have to be anywhere until lunch at Gabe and Zoey’s, so I’d allowed myself a rare morning of sleeping in.
Normally I was up at five to hit the gym, grab breakfast, and get to the office. And on the weekends, I was usually still up by six to hit the gym and grab breakfast, sometimes heading into the office, but more often than not, doing something with the family.
This weekend, it was Gabe and Zoey hosting a get-together, but with my family, there was always something going on, and that’s the way I liked it.
“It’s Uncle Dillon!” Zoey cried when I walked into the living room. I wasn’t technically Evie’s uncle, but because Gabe and I had grown up together, and felt like brothers, Zoey kept telling Evie I was Uncle Dillon.
Evie was only a few months old, so she didn’t really care either way, but Gabe’s older son, Christopher, who was his with Reardon’s soon-to-be wife, Chloe … Don’t ask … had taken to calling me Uncle Dillon as well.
I got a kick out of it, especially since I wouldn’t officially be an uncle until Jazzy had kids, and who knew when, or if, that would ever happen.
“What’s up, Evie?” I called out, bending to kiss Zoey on the cheek and then taking Evie out of her hands. “How’s my best girl?” I cradled her in my arm and walked to the recliner, where I sat and promptly began to rock as I cooed at my baby cousin.
“Hello to you, too,” Zoey said with a laugh, not caring in the least that I was more excited to see Evie than her. Not that I didn’t love Gabe’s wife, she was the best. Funny, smart, and sexy in that quirky way that was uniquely Zoey. But, when Evie was around, she was the only girl who caught my attention.
“Hi, Zo,” I said, not looking away from Evie, who was blowing spit bubbles at me.
“How was your trip?”
“I think it’ll be worth it in the end, but I’m happy to be home,” I replied. “How about you? Writing anything new yet?”
“No,” Zoey muttered, and this time I did look up, because she sounded forlorn. “I’m still stuck. Ever since I finished Zombie Girl, nothing has come to me. I’ve tried to sit down and write, but everything that comes out is crap. I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t worry, Zo, you’re a brilliant writer. Just give it time. Enjoy this break, hang out with Evie, and wait for inspiration to strike again. I’m positive it will.”
“Thanks, Dillon, I hope you’re right,” she said, then forced herself to brighten as she added, “We’re having your favorite, apple pie ala mode.”
“Yes! Did you hear that, Evie, pie for dessert? I bet you can’t wait until you get some chompers and can eat real food like your Uncle Dillon. I’ll make you the best steak you’ve ever had in your life.”
“That’s because she won’t have a frame of reference,” Reardon said as he walked into the room. “Until Uncle Reardon makes her one, then all bets are off.”
“Nope,” I said when Reardon tried to take Evie from me. “Get your own baby.”
“Mine’s still cooking,” Reardon countered. “Now, gimme.”
“No, I just got her. And don’t think I didn’t catch that challenge you just threw down, either. When Evie turns ten, we’re having a steak off, and she will decide who grills the better cut of meat.”
“You’re on,” my good-natured cousin said. “Now quit being a baby hog and give her over.”
“Take a walk, Viking,” I ordered, using the nickname Zoey had given him when they’d met. “I’ve got her for at least thirty more minutes, unless she poops, then you can take her.”
I chuckled as Reardon grumbled and walked toward the kitchen.
“Grab me a beer while you’re at it,” I called after him.
“Fuck off,” came his reply.
“Reardon Lewis,” I heard my Aunt Annabeth chastise from the kitchen, and really started laughing.
“Busted,” I told Evie, who smiled at me.
“Quit being so mean to him,” Chloe said with a grin as she walked in holding her pregnant belly. “And don’t even think about telling me I can’t hold my niece.”
I pouted, but handed Evie over, because Chloe being her actual aunt trumped my fake uncle status. Plus, Chloe was pregnant, and had become very emotional during this pregnancy. The last thing I needed was to make her cry and actually piss off the Viking.
“Fine, but I want her back,” I said grudgingly, standing to give up the comfortable seat and follow Reardon to the kitchen.
“Your wife stole the baby,” I complained as I walked inside, totally unprepared for the woman who jumped into my arms unexpectedly as I rounded the corner. “Whoa.”