Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Sure.” Study group, my eye.
“Be good, Prince Jake,” JD offered, batting his eyelashes.
Tasha laughed. “Prince Jake. It fits. He is a prince, and the best babysitter I ever had until his schedule got so busy. Ned and Huck are in a fearless, daredevil phase that is aging me by the day, and he’s usually the only one who can talk them off the ledge. And I’m talking about an actual ledge because they think they can fly now.”
Fiona chuckled. “I can only imagine what that would be like with twins. Why is it we never try to take off from the ground?”
“Because.” JD pushed his empty glass in Fiona’s direction, starting to look a little tipsy. “That split second before the crash is the closest we’ll ever get to flight without growing wings. Not that I ever tried that or anything. I’m not a pigeon.”
Pigeon?
“Prince Jake has spoken,” Fiona said lightly, taking away his glass and replacing it with water. “Cutting you off now.”
“Harsh.”
Tasha sat down beside JD, looking amused. “I don’t know about pigeons, but I was thinking of taking them to that indoor skydiving place to see if we could get it out of their systems. They have a kiddie class I’ve been hearing good things about. Now, which baby daddy were we discussing again?”
Like a sexy dog with a bone. “No one you would know?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have phrased that like a question.
Thankfully, despite her stealing his beer, JD still jumped in to save the day. “What’s Mrs. Senator doing at a bar for happy hour? The political gossips will be agog. Why don’t people say agog anymore? We should make it a thing again.”
Tasha grinned at Fiona. “If you’d get me a margarita, I’ll tell you why I’m here.”
Fiona fixed her drink while Tasha started talking in hushes tones. “Believe it or not, I came looking for you, JD. I called Brady, who called your husband, and he said you were here with Fiona, catching up since she’s been off taking care of poor Wyatt.”
Tasha glanced over in gratitude as Fiona handed her the drink. “Bless you, by the way. And not just for this. Everyone’s been a mess about those two boys for weeks.”
“Why were you looking for me?” JD asked, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
“Well, he’s your brother, isn’t he? The babysitting billionaire who chose Zachary’s Manny?”
JD had just taken a sip of his water when he started to choke. “Man— Yeah. Did something happen with the, um, Manny? If so, my brother’s name is Joey and yes, he’s the one to blame for that. But he’s not quite a billionaire yet.”
“I love that Manny.”
“It was my idea to hire him,” JD said in such a swift turnaround Fiona had to laugh.
It really had been JD’s idea, but Joey had personally taken charge of picking the right person to care for Noah’s little boy after JD made the call. He’d even flown his employee out free of charge and paid him six months in advance.
“You told me the guy was the best he had, didn’t you?” Fiona asked. “Multiple degrees in early childhood education, nutrition and psychology. Unflappable demeanor.”
JD nodded. “Joey really liked Wyatt and Noah when he came down last time, and since our other brother Royal got together with one of the Wayne women, he feels like we’re all family. He wanted to do what he could to help with Zach.”
Tasha beamed at him and Fiona pushed her hair behind her ears, suddenly missing her colorful hair for the boost of confidence it usually provided. Natasha had the kind of confidence that all women aspired to. She owned her curves, her lifestyle choices and motherhood with the same fearless and unapologetic enjoyment. She refused to compromise who she was, and her husband was smart enough not to ask her to.
She would have already told them the truth.
Would she, though? Fiona had heard something about her initially keeping a similar secret, but she knew the situation had been totally different. Tasha had been trying to protect the family.
Fiona’s hesitation wasn’t that altruistic.
“God, that’s sweet,” Tasha sighed. “So’s that man he picked to look after Zach. He’s sweet, too. And beautiful, and he was teaching Zach how to speak Korean. The child is three and he’s already picked up a few phrases. Meanwhile, my little angels are duct-taping pillows to their butts so they can slide down the stairs.”
Fiona was about to respond, but Tasha started rifling through her purse. “So, JD, I’ve thinking about getting your brother’s input on the younger-children situation at Bellamy House..”
Fiona’s ears perked up. Ever since Younger and Seamus’ husband Bellamy had gotten together to extend youth center services to offer shelter and protection for children and survivors of sexual abuse, she’d been volunteering there as a therapist and helping out wherever she could. Those kids had been through hell, and she’d lived in her own version long enough to know how important it was to have someone in your corner.