Protector Daddy by Taryn Quinn

TWENTY

“That frigging perpyou staked out the other day was just picked up downstate with a van full of fenced artwork. Ripped off a museum in Albany. But he was caught with the goods so no matter what kind of slick lawyer he gets, he’s not getting out of this one.” Mav chewed on the end of the toothpick he’d yanked out of his turkey club as he planted his ass on the corner of my desk. “Good job staking him out, ace.”

Ace? Had I been given a new nickname for some unknown reason?

I supposed it was better than Jimmy’s nickname for me of prune face. Speaking of slick, that word fit our newest officer all too well. He was always ready with a grin and a joke and a flash of his many tattoos at whomever was around, particularly those of the female variety.

“I didn’t catch him. Brady and I were staking out an empty motel room.”

“Can’t win ‘em all, ace. So are you looking to marry my sister?”

I looked up from the report I was typing up with two fingers. It involved a fender bender that had occurred two hours ago. A senior citizen drove into the bank after accidentally hitting the gas instead of the brake. Worst of all, Arlo had wandered into the bank’s parking lot and nearly was involved in a car-duck collision.

Luckily, he escaped with no harm. He also got some oats and rice when a dedicated public servant—that would be me—took an early lunch to make sure he had something to eat after all his stress.

I also managed to snag a warm croissant from my sweet, sexy girlfriend who allowed me to try her prototype Nutella croissant, made by none other than my daughter. I predicted it would be a huge seller, and I wasn’t sure which of them had smiled wider.

Even though the day had not gone as I’d hoped so far, it was still not half bad.

“Hey, earth to Christian. You zoning out or what?”

“Late night with your sister.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I can’t say I like this twist on the ‘your mama’ joke.”

“Best of all, it’s all true.” I gave him a sunny smile and returned to my report.

“I think I liked you better pre-snark. The surliness was less personally offensive.”

“Sorry. Trying to lose the prune face.”

“Better not mention my sister again, ass face.”

“From ace to ass face. And the balance of the universe has been restored.” I tapped a pen against my cheek. “As for the marriage question, I floated it this morning.”

“You asked her to marry you this morning?”

“Well, no. I just said she was working too much so anytime she wanted to be a housewife I was ready.”

Mav stared at me for a long minute. “Okay, so how little time have you spent with Honey if you really thought that line would get you somewhere other than kicked to the curb?” He held up a hand. “I’d advise you not to mention anything about bedroom activities not needing conversation.”

“Oh, we always talk a lot in bed.” I shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps bringing it up, not me.”

“Yeah, I’m learning to not tangle with you on this subject. Consider it closed.” He started to stand.

“Mav, wait.” I raked a hand through my hair. Truth be told, my spur of the moment comment this morning had not landed in a good way. I still wasn’t sure where exactly I had gone wrong. “Honey confided in me that she wants to try the whole stay at home mom thing.”

“She did what?”

“Before she thought anything was amiss.” I lifted my brows so he would hopefully get the drift without me having to spell the whole thing out while sensitive ears could be listening. Meaning anyone nosy in our department, which granted wasn’t many people since the place was almost empty today.

“Huh, now that you mention it, Brady told me something about that. He said she dropped out of school and wants to procreate.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Wonder who put that idea in her head.”

I leaned back in my chair and held up my hands. “I wasn’t privy to what she said to Brady about school. She told me after she told him. And we were super new at that point. I put nothing in her head.”

“I just never guessed she was that into kids. This is probably Brady’s fault. Presley is pretty damn cute, and I don’t even have a baby fetish.”

“You’re forgetting her favorite brother is also having a kid.”

He preened. “I am her favorite brother. But she’s my favorite sister.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I typed a bit more on my report, erased it, then typed again before dropping my hands in my lap. “I didn’t know she needed like a formal proposal.”

Mav’s head whipped toward me. “Wow, you are clueless. They all need a formal proposal. Even I figured that out and Van isn’t inherently as romantic as Honey.”

“You think she’s inherently romantic?”

Had she hidden that side of herself from me so far?

Then again, we’d only been truly getting to know each other for weeks instead of months. We had so much more to learn about each other.

“The girl had pictures of One Direction all over her walls. Some of her posters had lipstick marks on them.”

Huh. Well, that explained the Harry Styles dude on her Kindle case. I’d had to reverse image search him on Google to even figure out who he was.

I asked Mav if I was correct on the identity of the abs dude and he nodded soberly. “Poor Harry. Damn Kindle is deader than a doornail. Won’t hold a charge and when that happens, it’s about to be a pretty paperweight. She asked me to get her a new one for Christmas. Texted me just a while ago.”

“Why not me?”

“Um, because you should be buying her something romantic.”

“Like what?”

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

“I’d love it if you would. Is there a handbook for this kind of thing?”

“Nope,” Mav said cheerfully, chewing on his toothpick again. “This is a torment every man must experience for himself.”

“Should I propose this soon? I feel like it’s too soon.”

“Then wait. But it’s also too soon to announce you’ll pay her bills if she wants to stay home and clean your house and bear your rugrats.”

“I said nothing about rugrats or cleaning. I clean my own house pretty damn well, thank you. But if she wanted to cook—”

Slowly, Mav shook his head. “You need a lot of help with this stuff. Is this how you proposed to the first one? No wonder she split.”

The pain hit me fast and hard, like a short-armed karate chop directly to the heart.

This was why I didn’t confide in anyone. This was why I kept my own counsel.

Maybe I couldn’t come up with the right answers on my own, but at least my pain didn’t get turned into a punchline.

Mav immediately cursed and lowered his gaze. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. And for what it’s worth, my sister is so into you, I have a feeling you could propose with a cardboard ring, and she’d dance down the aisle. Not saying I recommend that move, mind you.”

I rubbed the ache in my chest and stared sightlessly at the half-done report on my computer screen. “I can’t lose Honey. I need to figure this out.”

“She’s not going anywhere.”

“I’m buying her that Kindle. She loves reading. Then she’ll think of me every time she opens the cover.”

“If you get her the same model as she requested, pretty sure she’ll be thinking of Mr. Styles, but whatever gets you through the night.” Mav held up his hands. “Go you. We share a family account so if you want, I can let you know her favorite authors so you can stuff it with some new books. Or just get her a gift card.”

“Can you tell me her favorite authors? I want this gift to be as personalized as possible.”

“Sure, hang on. I have my own Kindle in my bag so I can see what she’s downloaded recently. Most of the time, I stay in my lane and avoid her books entirely. Except one time I saw a dude on the cover who was blue with a giant erection.” He lowered his voice. “Reminded me of Van’s drawings, but she swears she didn’t do that cover.”

“What? She mentioned they were steamy but not…that.”

“Steamy is one word for them. I peeked inside, and well, I learned to stick to my graphic novels like your brother writes.”

“Penn?”

“Unless Mr. Hair Gel has a secret sideline between all his posing.” Mav shook his head and went to grab his Kindle.

He returned quickly. Mav’s cover was a simple black with a hand-drawn decal of a skull and crossbones with an impressive amount of glitter.

“Van’s work?” I guessed.

“Of course. She wanted me to look bad ass.”

“You mean, your Kindle to look badass? Which negates the whole badass business to begin with.”

“You’re not very grateful for a guy who’s getting primo Christmas shopping intel right here.”

“I actually am. I really appreciate it.”

Mav opened his Kindle, pressed a few buttons, and then handed it over, pointing out the fifth item on the screen. “There’s blue dick. It’s called Cerulean Planet.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. How do I open it?”

He told me to click the cover and how to turn pages.

I made it about ten pages before there was hardcore porn in verbal form on my screen. “Holy crap. No wonder she’s so horny.”

“Fuck, man, I’m taking that away from you.” He ripped his Kindle out of my hand, and it took a good amount of pleading and a vow of silence to get him to return it. “I’m going back to my desk. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said distantly, already sucked into the next book I’d come across.

This one wasn’t science fiction and seemed set in the current time period. A couple times, I had to swallow my laughter. Soon, I realized I’d been reading for like fifteen minutes.

My shift was passing and I had not finished my report.

I was going down a dangerously derelict path. I hadn’t read anything but Dean Koontz novels and the local newspaper since high school. But man, these things could suck you in.

Though, shit, I’d have to write down this title and author and get a copy for myself to read on my phone because I had to give Mav back his Kindle soon.

I took about ten screenshots so I had a record of Honey’s favorites then returned Mav’s Kindle, dropping it in the center of his desk. About two minutes later, he finished a phone call and raised his brows at me. “So?”

“I like her books. Well, at least the couple I tried so far.”

“You do?” He shook his head. “Explains a lot. I don’t want to know. So you’re good for Christmas?”

“I’ll get her more than just Kindle-related stuff but yeah. I have another idea.” I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. “It was actually in the book I read.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Thinking of getting a custom designed swing for inside my house.”

I didn’t understand why Mav was turning a disturbing shade of red, but I still kept going. “I’m thinking maybe Lucky and Moose could help me put it together. I have a den, but we could turn it into a room for her—and me too. So she’d have a special spot in my house with room to spread out as we wanted to. The swing will be really padded and comfy but still will move as needed. In the spring, we can do another one outside, which is where she really loves to do it. But I don’t want her to lose her hobbies in the winter. She still needs to keep busy.” I frowned as he started to choke. “You okay, man?”

He shoved his chair back. “You are a sick fuck. That’s my little sister we’re talking about,” Mav tossed over his shoulder as he stormed out of the building.

I stared after him quizzically.

I didn’t get it until I’d gone back to my desk to finish my report—and laughed so hard I was sure I’d sprained a rib.

Rather than texting Mav, I texted Honey.

If your brother calls me a pervert, just ignore him.

Honey

Um, okay? Do I want to know?

Probably but you won’t find out until Christmas. Then I’ll explain all.

Honey

Ooh, presents! My favorite thing.

It is?

Honey

Duh. What do you want for Christmas?

You wrapped in ribbon.

Honey

Think I can manage that. ;) But I’m getting you more than that.

Don’t need to make a fuss.

Honey

It’s our first Christmas together. It has to be special.

So much for not thinking she was much of a romantic. Mav was right. I was clueless.

I needed to talk to my brother and Lucky. I didn’t have a lot of time to make this plan come together, so I’d likely have to pay big time. But it would be worth it to see her eyes light up.

Anything was worth that.

An hour later, I’d finished my report, checked in to make sure Brady was on his way in, and drew up a quick schematic of what I had in mind for the swing. When Brady came in, toting his adorable baby girl clad in a red Christmas-themed onesie with fur collar and cuffs, I looked up and melted.

Okay, fine, I wanted one of those too. And I didn’t give a shit if that made me less “manly”. I was owning it.

“How is she?” I asked, walking around my desk.

“She’s doing much better, thanks. Think it was just bad gas. But Tabitha’s on her way over to pick her up.” Brady set her in his chair and straightened her little Santa hat before turning to face me, hands on hips. “Okay, what’s this about you giving my sister a sex swing for Christmas?” He rubbed his chin. “Also, you got a website to check out that sort of thing? Just asking.”

I had to laugh so my head didn’t explode. “Mav has the biggest mouth in the county.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I’m not getting her a sex swing.”

“No?” Why did I think Brady sounded disappointed? “I mean, good. That’s my sister, you sicko. But I was just curious what the parameters were.”

“Honey was right you’d be better off watching porn than Lifetime.”

“Look, don’t judge, man. Sometimes when I’m up late with the baby, I end up watching.” He shrugged. “It’s not all bad. There was this one movie ripped from the headlines…”

When a harried Tabitha swept in a half hour later with Honey and Reagan hot on her heels, Brady and I were kicked back at his desk with the baby between us, laughing about parenting crises and the joys of raising a family.

I obviously didn’t know much yet. I wanted to know so much more.

But I felt as if I’d finally been admitted to a secret club I’d always been denied access to in the past. So much so I hadn’t even allowed myself to believe I wanted to be let inside.

“How is she?” Tabitha asked, racing around Brady’s desk to scoop up Presley.

She was only a few months old at this point, so her reactions were limited, but I would’ve sworn she smiled when she saw her mother.

Babies were so smart. And they smelled really good even when they evidently had suffered from bad gas most of the day.

Some parts of this process I was okay with not learning about right away.

“She seems much better. She had a bottle and tummy time and she seemed tuned into Bluey before we came into work.”

Tabitha rocked her daughter back and forth as she looked at each of us in turn. To be fair, we didn’t look as if we were working much. And we really weren’t. But other than my bank mishap and a few minor things Mav and Jimmy had dealt with in the field, it was a quiet Sunday.

Thank God, because I wasn’t exactly focused. At least not on work.

“How did things go at the bakery?” I glanced from Honey to Reagan. “Have a good day?”

“Yeah. We’re finished up now because Van is through with all her business meetings for the day so she’s filling in. Mickey and Tiffany came in too.”

“Mickey is amazing,” Reagan said a little wistfully. “She’s got a belly button piercing. And pierced nipples.”

I hoped to God my face seemed neutral, because my thoughts certainly were not.

“Pierced nipples really hurt,” Honey told Reagan with a quick swipe of her hand over her long hair. “Mickey totally regrets doing it. She told me so about a dozen times. Plus, they can get infected and that absolutely is not a place you want sore, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah. Ick. No way.” Reagan took a tentative look at Brady before coming around the desk to shake his hand. “I’m Reagan. Hi.”

“Hi, Reagan. Nice to meet you. Your dad’s been telling me all about you.”

“He has?” Honey echoed, staring at me as if I’d sprouted an extra pair of heads. “I mean, great!”

I managed to cough into my elbow, so I didn’t laugh at her astonishment. “Time to share her a bit with the important people. Speaking of, I’m done here since Brady arrived, so what say you we get going, ladies? We probably haven’t even missed much of the get-together since everyone was running late.”

Tabitha mimed handing off her daughter to her husband. “I’m ready for the family meet and greet.”

“You wish, Strawberry.” With a grin, Brady tugged her down until she was sitting on one leg and Presley was cradled in his arms. “I’ve got both my girls where I want them.”

“Ick.” Honey rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand and then Reagan’s. “Time to go. I’m officially free until after dinner. Miranda is working the day shift and I’ll be on at night. If I can still move after your mother’s feast, Christian.”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

Now that the moment was here, my good humor was fading into tight shoulders and a dry mouth. What if something went wrong or if Reagan didn’t like my family? Or if Honey didn’t? True, she knew most of them already, but knowing them casually was different than someday marrying into them.

We went outside into the gloriously sunny day. Handily, Honey had gone home to my place during midday to swap her car for my big hulking black truck. She tossed me the keys, but I shook my head. “You want to drive?”

“Yeah. I do. I feel like a warrior maneuvering that big mama down the street.”

“I should’ve let you drive it to the store in the snow. It handles better than your little tin can.”

“Have you driven my little tin can? No, sir, you have not.” She opened the driver’s door before I could get to it, swung her long as hell legs up, and shut the door on my response.

“Burn,” Reagan muttered before she crawled in the backseat and slammed the door.

I walked around to slide into the passenger side. Honey’s carefully covered fruit tart was wrapped and waiting on the dashboard. I started to peel back the foil to see if I could snag some more kiwi, but Honey smacked my hand before she reversed out of the parking lot.

“That’s for after dinner, wise guy.” But she was smiling.

Was this what it was like being outnumbered by women? I supposed so.

A half hour later, we were seated around my mother’s enormous dining table that was currently crowded with most of my immediate family. The only one missing was Travis.

Shocker.

“I thought you said Trav and Care Bear were riding up with you, Penn,” my father said sternly.

Riveted by his phone, Penn jerked a shoulder. “Trav said something came up. He’d make it for dinner or not.”

My mother rolled her eyes and pushed her serving cart of three different kinds of potatoes and an assortment of fresh buttered rolls beside the table. You’d figure she’d save that kind of baking for Thanksgiving later this week, but you would be wrong. “Those are the two options, Penn.”

“Jeez, get off my case. I’m not my brother’s keeper. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And in a sunny mood too. It’s a banner day,” Vee piped in, leaning over to steal a Parker House roll that she immediately slathered with butter and popped in her mouth.

“Look, the jerk is probably getting laid by some woman who he doesn’t even know her last name. He’s the one having the good day.”

I cast a glance at Reagan beside me and Honey on her other side, who was currently in a battle with Vee to get the most rolls. Reagan’s hands were clenched in her lap and her eyes were huge.

My family was not putting on their finest showing.

On Vee’s other side, Moose was trying to keep his son Brayden from swallowing a small plastic duck. He shoved it in his mouth anytime Moose looked away—like when he leaned around his not quite five-year-old son to jam his knuckles hard into our older brother Penn’s ribs.

Of all of us, Penn was the leanest and edged more toward lanky than the sheer bulk of Moose, me, and our father. “There are kids here, man. Have some damn discretion.”

Things were going off the rails early if quiet, sensitive Moose was demanding using swear words that Penn have discretion.

I cleared my throat. “I know not everyone is here yet and dinner still hasn’t been served—”

“If you want dinner already, go in there and grab a damn serving platter, son. You’ve got two hands and two feet.” My dad made a show of looking under the tablecloth. “Big enough for a damn clown.”