“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my big brother, Jace. Tell me how life is in the middle of insanity.”
My voice was totally wry.
Because that was what that shit had to be.
Insanity.
The guy had his phone in one hand, holding it out so I could see him, all the while trying to wrangle a squirming, squalling baby in the other. The only part of the kid showing up on the screen was a tiny fist that waved its fury in front of his face. He tried to angle his head around it.
Still couldn’t believe that my brother had made his way back to the girl who he’d loved since he was seventeen. The path sure hadn’t been easy for him to get there, littered with treacherous shit, twists and turns and dead ends, but it was a road he’d deemed worth traveling.
The guy was married to a girl named Faith and lived in this huge plantation that they’d restored and now ran as a bed and breakfast over in Broadshire Rim.
Lucky bastard had gotten one of the good ones. His wife, Faith, had this blooming heart, just fucking glowing.
Women like that should be impossible. She was the kind of mother every kid deserved. One in a billion. But if anyone deserved a love like that, Jace did. I was just about as happy for him as I was petrified that he might lose it.
Love precarious. Lost so easily.
The guy had taken up the family life like that was where he’d been heading all along.
Faith had given birth to their son just a few weeks ago. Not to mention, Jace had inherited Faith’s little girl, Bailey, in the process.
I didn’t get it.
Not at all.
Risking being responsible for life. Bringing more of it into this vile, vile world.
My heart skipped a nervous beat when he angled his phone a little so I could get a full view of my nephew.
Benton.
Tiny, scrawny legs flailing.
Jace chuckled a self-deprecating sound. “Things are perfect in the land of madness.”
“Looks like it.”
Jace bounced his baby boy. “He’s just screaming, demanding his mother, who handed him over so she could get a shower. Five minutes, and the kid is having withdrawals. What can I say? My boy has good taste. I fully understand his pain.”
I shook my head, a tease winding to my lips. “Never thought I’d see the day when my badass big brother handed over his balls. That’s gotta hurt.”
“Pssh . . . you just wish you were man enough to handle all of this. You’re just jealous you’re missing out on the good things in life.”
“Uh, yeah, no, but thank you. I’ll leave all the manning up to you. Monogamy is for the brave. Or the weak. However you want to look at it. All I know is I want no part in it.”
He laughed. “You just haven’t found a reason to take part.”
My lips twitched up at the side. “I’ll just keep enjoying the hunt.”
“You goin’ huntin’, Uncle Ian? My daddy told my mama you nofin’ but a dog.” All of a sudden, Bailey was right there, jumping up and trying to get in front of the camera. My heart gave another one of those pangs when I saw her adorable face, all the while hoping her innocent ears hadn’t been privy to me busting my brother’s balls.
Kids were on my no-go list.
Out of fucking bounds.
But goddamn it if that little girl hadn’t wound her way right into that dark, dark place inside me, a flash of light and warmth skating through my senses every time she was in my space.
Which kind of scared the fuck out of me.
I wasn’t joking when I said my brother was brave. Being a parent had to be about the scariest shit a person could endure.
I turned my attention to my brother, who was wearing the damned smuggest grin I’d ever seen, brows lifting for the sky. “Dog, huh?”
“What?” he defended with a chuckle.
“I wike dogs,” Bailey sang in her cute little drawl, like she was confused by the irritation in my voice and I should have taken the dig as a compliment.
“Well, that’s good because I like you, too,” I told her, sucked in a little deeper.
“See, Daddy. Uncle Ian is a good dog.” She was looking up at her dad, smiling a wide smile, like she was hoping to convince him of it.
My eyes met Jace’s. “You’re in so much trouble when I see you, brother.” I let brother linger like a dirty word.
The guy had the audacity to laugh. “What, are you going to deny it now?”
“No. I just didn’t know my lifestyle was a topic of conversation in your house.”
“What? We worry about you.” His voice lost some of the amusement. “Want the best in life for you. Everyone deserves that.”
The number of times he’d taken me aside to talk with me about what I was doing, how I was living, had grown exponentially since he’d permanently moved back to South Carolina. Like I was still that pathetic kid he had to protect and feed and go to bat for.