Creed (Unfinished Hero #2)(72)

But when he did, my heart leaped when he whispered, “Kara and Brand. I like that.”

I felt my eyes get soft before I whispered back, “Good.”

Chapter Seventeen

It Always Would Be

Present day…

I was one of those people who, when I was wrong, I’d admit I was wrong.

Right then, floating on an inner tube on the lazy river at Wet ‘n’ Wild in Phoenix, Arizona after having a squirt gun fight with Creed, Brand and Kara, which was after we went down copious water slides including one the kids called “the toilet bowl” which had this kickass swirly thing going on which was after we had lunch which was after we horsed around in the wave pool… I was loving Phoenix.

I was getting a tan.

I had my man back.

And he was right, he had great kids.

But, meeting Kara and Brand, the surprises kept coming.

First was the fact that I expected them to look exactly like Creed. In my mind, badass genes would beat out pretty much everything.

They didn’t look exactly like Creed. Apparently, badass genes knew enough to bow to traits that would create a superior being.

In other words, his kids were gorgeous.

Kara had thick, gleaming, long, straight brunette hair and a twelve year old girl’s slim, tall, almost boyish body. She had perfect, dark arched brows and the features of her face, which were still girlish but would clearly mature into great beauty, bore absolutely no resemblance to Creed’s. They might be Chelle’s, they might just be Kara’s and from Brand’s looks, I couldn’t tell.

Brand also had thick dark hair and, although ten years old, he was tall and had his father’s exact build. His features didn’t resemble his father or his sister so they, too, were either from his mother or all Brand.

Luckily for them, both kids inherited Creed’s unusual bright blue eyes and, with their dark hair and tanned skin which said they weren’t adverse to the heat like I was, their eyes were startlingly beautiful. Even more so than Creed’s which, until I saw them, I would have said was impossible.

Another surprise was Creed’s brand of parenting.

Neither of us grew up with good role models and when Creed wanted to spring me on his children with very little warning, I thought he was the cool, laidback Dad. Maybe, I had to admit, too cool and laidback.

He was not.

I’d forgotten that Creed’s Dad died when Creed was ten so there was plenty of time for the first Brand Creed to make his mark on his son. Although I’d never met Creed’s Dad, it was clear to see his father had done just that.

Creed wasn’t exactly strict but he definitely wasn’t Weekend Daddy who spoiled his kids when he had them and let shit slide. I noted this when he didn’t give in when Kara strode into the park and immediately wanted to go shopping in the gift shop. He also didn’t give in when Brand wanted to order enough food at lunch to feed an Army. Creed wasn’t a jerk about it, his refusals were quiet and gentle. They were also firm and his kids minded him immediately, clearly because they were the norm.

Further, they packed their own bags and carried them to the car and they did this without Creed telling them to. They were polite and when Kara forgot to say thank you to the waitress for bringing our drinks, Creed gave her a subdued but meaningful Dad Look which prompted a quick remedy to her lapse in courtesy. And when a squabble seemed to be beginning to break out in the backseat on our way to the park, all he had to say was a quiet, low, “Stop… now,” and the burgeoning squabble ended immediately. The mood in the backseat didn’t turn jovial but they stopped bickering.

Creed, whose language was as foul as mine, also didn’t cuss around his kids. Also, although he held my hand on more than one occasion, obviously (and thankfully) his message was plain that public displays of affection were to be kept at an appropriate minimum.

I didn’t expect Creed to be a bad Dad. He made it clear he loved his children and they were a huge, important part of his life and any Dad who felt that way couldn’t be all bad.

I also didn’t expect him to be a Dad, showing love and care at the same time guiding with a firm hand.

I had to say, I liked it.

But truthfully, I thought Creed was thinking positively, even hopefully (but not rationally) about what he expected their reaction would be to me.

I was wrong about this, too.

From the instant I met him at Creed’s house, Brand was exactly as Creed described him. Open and friendly but also talkative. Very talkative. The kid had a lot to say but fortunately it was interesting and a lot of the time damned funny.

Kara was the same except, from the very little I knew of her, not rabid about it. It seemed genuine albeit watchful.

And it was clear they both adored their Dad though this was not a surprise.

The only thing that made me pause was Kara’s adoration of her father was what could be described as rabid. It shone from her eyes, was reflected in her features. She loved him and she clearly missed him being away and not away as in, a job in Denver but away as in, not seeing him every day. She was not a spoiled Daddy’s Little Princess but there was something there that was off, just not right and part of that was that it seemed Creed didn’t see it. Or perhaps he was acting normal in the hopes that would help her work through it.

Regardless, I couldn’t ask about it, not with her around and when Creed was around, Kara was. Whereas Brand was independent, did his own thing, quickly found other kids his age he could befriend and go off and do things with, Kara stuck to her Dad like glue.