“Sorry. Beer got hot,” he grumbles, standing to go grab another.
“Language,” I remind him, pointing out there’s a kid here.
“She hears worse from kids at school,” Allie whispers. “Believe me, she knows what words are off limits.”
I think back to her saying, “He didn’t say stuff.” She really does know the difference.
“He still should be cautious of what he says around our daughter,” I murmur absently, still looking in his direction.
Brin is biting back a grin, but I don’t question it. Instead, I turn back in time to see Allie’s eyes darting away from me.
Was she just checking me out?
When blush rises to her cheeks, I’m the one fighting back a grin. She was.
I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Having a daughter with someone sort of makes things… Hell, I have no idea. Being attracted to my daughter’s mother is one hell of a conundrum.
Rye returns with a fresh beer, returning his attention back to Ray, but I’m lost in my own haze of confusion. Allie should be untouchable in my mind. Angel just came into my life, and I royally fucked up with Allie already. Thinking of her as anything other than Angel’s mother is dangerous territory. But it’s really hard when she’s being like this. And checking me out.
My dick twitches in my pants, trying to offer me its opinion, which forces me to shift uncomfortably.
Rye sputters beer again, drawing our attention once more as he tries to censor his words in front of Angel.
“Stupid beer. How did it get hot so fast?”
He stands again, returning to the cooler once more, and Brin snickers softly. It’s then I start to piece together the puzzle.
“Kode and Tria never returned,” Raya says idly, not paying attention to the scene Rye is making.
I look over as Raya snuggles into Kade’s side. “Figures,” I say with a shrug.
Kode and Tria should become dual hermits and live their lives naked. I’m shocked they came out today and made it without attacking each other as long as they did.
Rye sits back down, sipping his cool beer, double checking it to be certain he’s not wrong about the temperature, and then he turns his attention back to Ray. I watch as Brin leans over and pulls back a towel, finding a beer next to her feet.
The top is missing, and she sneakily replaces his cold beer with the hot one, putting the cold one under the towel in its place. Rye’s head is turned, so he never sees the swap. Crafty girl. Apparently they’ll prank each other until the day they die.
I look back at Allie’s questioning green eyes, and I lean over to whisper in her ear, trying not to get distracted by how damn good she smells.
“Prank war. They never break even.”
She’s grinning when I lean back, and I feign interest in Ray’s story until Rye starts spewing again, coughing and cursing, then censoring and apologizing for cursing.
Everyone snickers as he glares at his beer, but when his eyes cut toward Brin, she bursts out laughing hard enough to give herself away.
“I should have known. We called a truce for today!”
She can’t stop laughing, and he fights back his own smile, proving just how perfect they are for each other. I didn’t even know he knew how to smile like that until he met her.
“Fine. Game on.”
He stands, and she squeals while leaping to her feet and attempting to run. She makes it maybe three steps before he has her scooped up and hauled over his shoulder. She yelps when he slaps her ass with one hand, and locks his arm around her legs to keep her in place.
“Save me! Don’t just watch him! Wren! Please! Kade! Someone!”
I wave at her over my shoulder, and she starts to say something foul before remembering there’s a six-year-old within earshot. She settles for a death glare that really can’t intimidate anyone, and I grin while leaning back in my seat.
“Where are they going?” Bella asks when they head through the back gate.
“Probably to their house where he’ll make her life hell for the rest of the night,” I say dryly.
Allie laughs while getting more comfortable, but Bella tilts her head in confusion. “Is that normal?”
“To them, they’re as normal as anything can be. Whatever works,” I say while shrugging.
Allie has had a lot of insight into my life and my friends’ lives today, but I’ve had very little into hers. Deciding to use what warmth I’ve felt to my advantage, I capitalize on our smaller crowd and try to ask some questions.
“What about your parents? Does Angel visit them often?”
She bristles beside me, and I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve already messed this up.
“Um… no. Not at all, really. They… They were my foster parents for the last eight years of my life, but… I think me getting pregnant gave them an excuse to cut ties with me, since I was old enough for the government to stop sending them checks. But I don’t want her knowing that.”