Page 6 of Rome
“Should you be out and about today, then?” The look of concern on his face was so like his son’s that I had to smile.
“I’m fine. It’s not that serious, just something to keep an eye on.” He didn’t look like he was convinced, but he let the matter drop.
“Hey, Abs,” Jagger greeted me, coming over to give me a hug. I hugged him back a little longer than normal, still not quite over the scare he and Molly had given us a few weeks ago. When I think how close we came to losing both of them, it makes my blood turn to ice in my veins.
“Where’s Molly?” I asked him, looking around for his fiancée.
“She’s out shopping with her mom today, so I decided to come over here to help King and Sinner with a little surprise for E-man,” he lowered his voice on the last part of his statement, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ethan wasn’t within hearing distance.
“What surprise?” I whispered back and was treated to the grin that was identical to my husband’s, with the exception of the placement of the dimple.
Jagger and Caleb were identical twins, aside from the fact that their dimples were on opposite sides, and Caleb had a tiny scar that bisected one eyebrow. Caleb also had a few more tattoos than Jagger did, and Jag’s ink was in black and gray scale, whereas Caleb favored colors.
They were both six-foot-two, with broad shoulders, lean muscles, and a loose-hipped swagger that drew attention whenever they walked into a room. They had the Morgan genes which showed their Italian roots from several generations back when the family surname had originally been Morganelli. Perpetually tanned skin, so different from my own ivory complexion, dark hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate. Caleb usually wore his short beard a little thicker than Jagger, who typically sported stubble rather than an actual beard.
Jagger leaned in closer to whisper, “Sinner bought him a playground set, with swings, a slide, and a little fort thing on top. The prospects started putting it together two days ago, and got most of it done already, so we just have a little bit of installation to finish today.”
My eyes widened in surprise, and then filled with tears. Pop acted like such a tough guy, but he was a complete softie when it came to Ethan. I couldn’t wait to see him with Everly. Pop was ridiculously excited about our daughter’s pending arrival, proclaiming it was “about damned time this family had a little girl again.”
Pop and Grandma Frankie had a son – Dante, otherwise known as King– and a daughter, Beatrice, who’d shortened her own name to BeBe as soon as she could talk. We had all been heartbroken when Caleb’s Aunt BeBe was killed three years ago in a robbery-gone-bad at her work, leaving her husband, Cowboy, the club’s VP, to raise their three teenagers on his own.
Pop also had a son by another woman, who had gotten pregnant around the time he and Frankie got together. Pop hadn’t even known about the kid until he’d shown up on their doorstep as a teenager after his mom had died. Pop and Grandma Frankie had tried their best, but Ace was a sorry excuse for a man, who’d bounced in and out of prison ever since.
He creeped me out, and I made it a point to never, ever, be alone with him. There was something just off about Ace, almost as if I could feel the evil that tinged his soul. I’d often wondered if his mother had doomed him when she’d saddled him with the given name of Judas, of all things. She had at least had the good sense to shorten that to Jude by the time he’d started school, before he’d eventually earned the road name Ace, after cheating in a poker game.
The only good thing the man had ever done in his life was fathering Rome’s cousin Lucky, who had been raised mostly by Pop, Frankie, and King. Of Pop’s six grandkids, there was only one girl in the bunch, Aunt BeBe and Cowboy’s daughter, Hailey, who had just turned sixteen. Ethan was the only great grandkid so far.
Jagger wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze, dropping a kiss on my temple. “Lord, woman, don’t start crying. You know that just freaks us the fuck out,” he teased.
“What’s wrong, darlin’? Jag, what the hell did you do to her?” Pop barked gruffly, shouldering Jagger aside to pull me into his surprisingly strong arms.
“He just told me about the playset, you sweet man,” I whispered, raising up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his weathered cheek. He grinned down at me before shushing me.
“Hush now, I’ve got a reputation to maintain,” he said with a wink. His gaze landed on the bag sitting on the counter, and he looked back at me quizzically.
“I made pork chops and scalloped potatoes last night, and I brought you a plate. There are some brownies in there, too.” His eyes lit up as he hugged me again, then eagerly reached for the bag.”
“You’re too good to me, Abby. My grandson did good when he snatched you up,” he said as he pulled both containers out of the bag.
“Did I hear you say you brought brownies?” King asked as he walked into the kitchen with Ethan perched high on his shoulders. I laughed as Pop threatened his son with great bodily harm if he came near his brownies.
“Abby made them for me, so you’re shit out of luck.” He looked up at Ethan and winced, then shot me an apologetic look as he put the covered plate in the refrigerator.
I just smiled and shook my head. I didn’t figure a few curse words here and there would do irreparable harm to my kids, although the“fucknugget”incident over the summer had been embarrassing as hell. The other boy’s mother had looked down her nose at me as if I were some lower life form she’d never encountered before. I’d just apologized, then flipped her off as soon as she’d turned her back to scoop up her precious son and hauled her snooty ass across the parking lot toward her minivan.
King opened his mouth to make what I’m sure would have been a sarcastic retort, but he was interrupted by an excited shout from Ethan, who had just caught sight of his surprise through the kitchen window.
“Put me down, Grandpa,” Ethan urged as he squirmed to get down from King’s shoulders. His feet had barely hit the floor when he flew out the back door, letting it slam behind him in his excitement. I winced at the noise, but Pop, King, and Jagger all just laughed at his eagerness as we followed Ethan outside.
A little over two hours later, I was yawning and in desperate need of a nap. Ethan had alternated between running around the backyard like a demon, and hovering over the men who were trying to finish installing the playset. Lincoln, Caleb’s cousin and a prospect for the club, patiently showed Ethan how to use the drill to secure the slide to the rest of the playset, and my son was in heaven. He looked so grown-up, a look of complete concentration on his face as he carefully followed Linc’s instructions to the letter.
It was hard to believe that he was five already. It seemed like only yesterday when I’d been a terrified eighteen-year-old, my hands shaking so badly that I had almost dropped the pregnancy test in the toilet. Caleb – who had officially proposed two months before – had been right there with me, supporting me, and loving me through my fears. When I wasn’t sure I was ready to be a mother, he was right there, sure enough for both of us.
“You’ll be an amazing mom, Abby. You know how I know that?”He’d placed his hand over my heart that had been pounding out of my chest as I gripped that little plastic stick with the two little lines that had just changed our world forever.“I know it because of this, right here. This heart of yours, which is so loving, so giving, and so damned pure. That’s how I know, baby girl. With a heart like yours, you could never be anything less than fucking amazing.”He’d cupped my face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush the tears from my cheeks, and had given me the sweetest kiss I could have ever imagined. Then looking me in the eye, he had sworn to be by my side every step of the way.“I’ll be the best husband, and the best father, I can possibly be, because you and this baby don’t deserve anything less than the best.”
With my parents’ reluctant blessing, we’d married almost two months later – just one week after my nineteenth birthday. Ethan was born six months later. Looking at my son’s grin, so like his daddy’s, I knew I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything in the world. I yawned again, and my eyes watered with the force of it.
“Darlin’ why don’t you leave Ethan with me and head on home? Put your feet up and relax for a while. I’ll feed him some dinner and drop him off back at your place around seven-thirty.”
