“Don’t make me hurt you,” she snaps, and Jane lets out a noise close to a giggle. Rose is smiling from ear to ear, a smile that I’ve pretty much never seen from her.
“Ugh, stop,” I say, shielding my eyes. “It’s creepy.”
“I love my daughter,” she says adamantly. Jane does bring out something in Rose, a lighter side of her that’s hard to spot sometimes. But she’s still the same, so I wait for it. “She may mutter inarticulately, vomit on me, and look clueless until a certain stage of her life, but she’s my unintelligible thing.”
I bow. “I’m sorry, your highness.”
Rose rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile in them.
“I’ll swap you,” Connor tells his wife. “Baby for bags.”
Her eyes pierce him, even if she’s not on the offensive. “What bags?”
I just now notice the Chanel and Dior shopping bags beside Connor’s feet. Of course he went to the stores this morning. Rose’s demeanor shifts, her back no longer arched, and I worry she might chuck the baby in Connor’s arms.
Jane lets out another squeal of delight, kicking her legs that are clothed in a green onesie. Orange tabby cats printed along the arms. And we all smile. She’s ridiculously cute, even if she’s spawned from Rose’s womb.
“Looks like she’s already inherited Rose’s love of fancy things,” I say.
“She’s a baby,” Rose tells me. Instead of hatred, the word “baby” is filled with mild disdain. “She doesn’t know what we’re even talking about.”
I feign surprise. “So you’re admitting that you don’t have a genius child?” I turn to Ryke. “Did hell freeze over this morning?”
Before Ryke even reacts, Rose speaks. “I’m admitting that my child isn’t superhuman.” Rose hands Jane off to Connor and then goes for the shopping bags.
“With Rose and my genes, she’s still very likely a genius,” Connor adds.
Yeah. I know.
Rose unwraps her bags at the bar, the first item: a black silk blouse, one that Rose delicately folds into its original paper after examining it.
I nudge Ryke. “What’s Daisy doing this weekend?” I genuinely care about other people’s everyday lives—it’s bizarre. Something I never saw four years ago, addicted and selfish.
Ryke just casually shrugs. “I don’t know.” He takes a swig of his orange juice from the carton. Rose is too busy fawning over her gifts to notice my brother’s bad habits.
“What do you mean?” I ask him. “You’re dating her.”
“We like our f**king space.”
Rose straightens at the sound of the f-bomb, and I punch Ryke’s arm with force. He winces, since that spot is tender for him now.
“I forgot,” he tells Rose, not even bothering to rub his bicep.
“I don’t care if she swears when she’s older,” Rose tells him. “I just don’t want her first word to be f**k.”
“My sentiments align with Rose’s,” Connor adds, his daughter falling asleep in his arms as he rocks her.
We have a system in place: punch Ryke every time he curses in front of the baby. It’s fun for all of us but him, and so far it’s not really working that well. His arm was bruised the entire first week Jane was home, and he still has trouble training himself to keep it clean.
“I’m trying my best,” he says.
Rose nods. “I appreciate it.” She returns to her clothes, and I backtrack to my initial conversation with Ryke.
“You like your space?” My brows furrow. “I don’t get it. Are you taking a break or something?”
“What?” Lily’s voice echoes from the doorway, and she enters the kitchen with eyes like saucers. It doesn’t help that she wears her Wampa cap, dinosaur slippers, black cotton pajamas and a fur coat. “You’re on-on a…” Her green eyes somehow grow wider. “…a break?” Shit.
“For f**k’s sake—”
I punch his arm, and he lets out an exasperated sound. It’s the system in place. I can’t help that. “Sorry, bro.”
He sighs. “We’re just not keeping tabs on each other. We’re still together. We’re still fu—screwing.” He turns to me and points. “Do not effing punch me.”
I clap. “You managed to avoid an f-bomb. Barely.”
“Progress,” Connor chimes in with a smile. Ryke even looks surprised by the compliment, not even a backhanded one. Maybe he can tell Ryke’s seriously frustrated today.
Lily walks further in the kitchen. “Are you sure, Ryke?”
“Yeah, Lil,” he tells her, sincerely. “We’re not like you and Lo, okay? We like to give each other room to breathe.”
“We breathe,” Lily defends our relationship. My brows rise. Let’s not kid ourselves. We struggle with our codependency on a daily basis.
“What in the world are you wearing?” Rose asks her sister. Lily waddles her way to the fridge. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close to my chest. I hesitate because A) we just had sex and I’d rather not tease her too much and B) that codependency, room to breathe thing.
“It’s cold in here,” Lily explains.
Everyone looks to Ryke, the person who constantly lowers the thermostat. He glowers. “It’s summer. It gets hot.”
Lily shuts the refrigerator door, empty-handed, and snatches a banana from the countertop. “I also have an announcement.”
Everyone quiets, and I go rigid. Whatever it is, she hasn’t told me. Her eyes flit to mine briefly before they focus on her sister. “I’m going to remain inside the house until I have the baby. I can’t risk having a limo-delivery. The only times I’ll leave are for doctor appointments.”
Fine with me. Knowing she’ll be at home actually eases my worries. Someone will always be here with her.
“So that’s the real reason you’re dressed like the abominable snowman in July,” Ryke says like it’s not his fault for keeping the house cold if she doesn’t meet the light of day.
Lily shoots him a middle finger and begins unpeeling her banana. I grin. God, I love this girl.
“Hey, guys.” Daisy slips into the kitchen with a yawn. “What’s everyone doing today?” Her hair is still platinum-blonde, but she wears it in a braid. She hangs around by the stove, putting distance between herself and Ryke.
“Taking care of a baby,” Rose says easily.
“I have her, darling,” Connor replies. “You can spend the day with your sisters.”
Rose speaks in French with Connor at this, and Lily eats her banana slowly, watching them talk in the foreign language with no real clue what they’re saying. And then she focuses on Ryke and Daisy, and I see the fear flash in Lil’s eyes. No one wants their relationship to work more than her.
“Can you two just hug it out?” I tell my brother and Lily’s little sister.
Daisy breaks into a charismatic smile, and she faces her boyfriend. “Do you want to hug me?” she asks playfully.
“No,” he deadpans. He better be sarcastic, and I hate that I can’t tell.
Daisy only smiles more and she stretches her arms out on the counter. “Do you want to…” And she mouths, f**k me?
Oh shit.