Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(67)

“Yes, we very much do,” she said. “Thank you again for looking after her all night so I could sleep.”

“Anytime. Ready?”

I opened the door with a grin while she giggled. But all of that shit quickly stopped the minute her parents’ gaze hit us. There was so much worry in their eyes. Disapproval, maybe? Then I remembered, they’d been the ones to drive away their only child. If Jean and Ada were halfway across the country from them, they’d been the cause. All the time I’d spent hanging out with Ada had given me a small taste of what it must mean to be responsible for a child, to get all wound up worrying about their future. So I could appreciate their reservations. Didn’t mean you could go trying to make the decisions for your kid indefinitely, however.

Something seemed to change in her mom’s demeanor, though. The woman stepped forward, holding out her hand. If anything, she seemed a bit flustered. “We didn’t think to introduce ourselves to you, Eric. I’m Leah and this is my husband, Will.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shook Jean’s mom’s hand, then her dad’s. He seemed hesitant at first, but then gave me a grim smile. Maybe they weren’t so bad. It’d probably been a bit of a surprise to find me answering their daughter’s door half dressed. But surely the baby on my shoulder clued them in to the fact that it wasn’t all sex games and swinging from a chandelier. I was there to help their daughter, not harm her.

“Hi, Mom,” said Jean. “Dad.”

Immediately, a wide grin cracked her dad’s face. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, honey.”

Jean gave them both a kiss, handing over Ada for some cuddling from her grandmother.

“We thought we might take you to breakfast?” asked her mom with a smile. “How’s my gorgeous granddaughter?”

Ada whimpered, then changed her mind and gave a rebel yell. After this came a small, brief smile.

“I better go,” I said.

“Or you could join us for breakfast too?” asked Leah hesitantly.

“That’s real kind of you, but I have work later. Need to get some sleep first.”

“Another time.”

“Definitely, that’d be great.” Maybe. We’d see. Had to give the woman points for trying, though. Then Jean gave me a smile. One of those we’ve-got-a-secret-and-it’s-really-damn-good kind of smiles. I fucking loved those. Or liked. Just really strongly liked them. Also, she probably shouldn’t be doing that in front of her parents. Heh. Whatever.

“Nice to meet you, Eric,” said Leah.

“You too.” I gave both her and her husband a nod, grabbed my things, and got gone.

Great sex. Amazing, as Jean had said. But what a hell of a morning.

Also, I needed some sleep.

*

“Yeah, but who is your favorite in the band? It’s me, right? It’s okay to be honest. I deal well with adulation.”

Jean opened her mouth, then closed it again with a small frown, looking kind of overwhelmed. It seemed to be a common feeling when it came to this sort of situation. The guys, the mansion, the whole damn thing would be kind of huge if you hadn’t seen it all before.

“Leave her alone, man,” I said, holding Ada on my lap.

“Shh,” said Mal, the owner of the insanely large log cabin–style mansion. “This is important. Don’t interfere. I want her honest, unbiased, me-centric opinion.”

Sitting over on the floor, playing blocks with his daughters, Jimmy Ferris shook his head. How the dark-haired bastard always managed to look like he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine, I had no idea. If only I had his money to burn on suits and shit. That would be cool. Instead, bills, savings, and real-life shit came first. Sadly.

“Ever since he got less screen time than me in the Stage Dive documentary he’s been like this,” said Jimmy. “So insecure it’s pathetic.”

“That is not true,” said Mal, pushing his long blond hair back from his face. “Take it back, Jimbo.”

“This is the problem with rock stars,” I said quietly to Jean. “Delicate yet enormous egos. I’m surprised their skulls don’t explode from the pressure. Man, you’re in a world-famous band. Have a little dignity.”

“I’m dignified. See if I let you stay in my beach house again.” Mal sniffed. “Hey, Zeny. You love Uncle Mal best, right?”

One of the dark-headed little girls had left the game of blocks to give the drummer a cuddle. Mostly, I think it was pity. Mal wrapped her up in his arms, lifting her off her feet for a moment. Except her sister, Stephanie, took that moment to come up behind Zeny and clumsily tickle her. Next came much screaming, making Ada start in surprise. The two girls then ran off down a hallway. Who exactly was chasing who was kind of hard to tell.

“And I thought you were loud,” I told Ada.

Jimmy barked out a laugh. “You haven’t heard anything yet. Their lungs get bigger and it’s like … Jesus, I don’t even know how to describe it. Some days we’d give anything for a mute button. Even for just a few minutes’ peace. When they go to bed and everything’s quiet, it’s heaven. But when they’re going hammer and tongs, it’s like a rock band with too many drummers.”

“Hey, what?” protested Mal, apparently trying to work out if he was meant to be offended. “Too many drummers? How is such a thing even possible?”