“Don’t know, don’t care,” I yawned, flopping an arm over my eyes. I really didn’t give a shit about anything Matt did anymore. Fuck him. “Whatever he does, I’m sure it’s going to be needlessly complicated. All he’s got to do is say, Hey, wanna get hitched? How hard is that?”
Anna poked me in the ribs. “You’re so romantic, it’s almost embarrassing.”
Lifting my arm, I peeked up at her. “Do you really want to know what’s embarrassing about me?”
Looking intrigued, Anna leaned toward me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said, squeezing her nipple. “Nothing about me is embarrassing.”
Anna squeaked in surprise, then smiled in a way that I knew meant she was ready for round two. Thank you, pregnancy hormones.
Just as I was reaching out to give her breast a proper fondle, a mood-stopping sound filled the air. “Mommmmmmmmmmmmmma! Want out!”
With a groan, I covered my face with my arm again. “Shouldn’t she be able to climb out of the crib by now? My mom said I could climb out when I was nine months old.”
Holding her stomach, Anna sat up. “Yeah, well, thankfully, Gibson isn’t quite as fearless as you, and she’s not big on heights. She’s getting bolder every day though,” she said with a sigh.
“Good,” I answered. “She’s a Hancock. She shouldn’t be afraid of anything. Matt could learn a thing or two from her. Chickenshit.” I bet that was the real reason he’d told me no. He was scared, scared I’d blow him out of the water and forever take his precious position from him. Well, that was one thing he actually should be scared about. He should conquer his fear though, goddammit.
Anna let out a low laugh that riled me up and made me forget all about Matt’s fears about me. “You may want to cover that before I bring your daughter downstairs.”
I removed my arm from my eyes to gaze at her. “You may want to ride that before you go get her?” Anna smirked and I shrugged. “Just sayin’. Missed opportunity.” Shaking her head, Anna kissed my shoulder, then left me. “Your loss!” I yelled out. And mine. Damn hard-on.
Eventually, we had to get dressed for the gallery opening. It was a formal event, which was annoying. I mean, I didn’t mind wearing a suit every once in a while—I looked amazing in a tie—but performing while wearing this getup was going to be odd and uncomfortable. We were a rock band, not a fucking jazz quartet.
Anna fixed my tie with a soft smile on her lips. I’d chosen red, of course. Power color. My jacket and pants were red too. Why stop with just one piece of power? More was…well, more. “You look amazing,” she told me.
“I know,” I said, eyeing her deep turquoise wrap dress. There was an alluring tie in the front that undid the entire thing. I wanted to pull it. I mean, I really wanted to pull it. “You look pretty amazing too,” I told her, pride in my voice. My wife was so fucking hot.
“I know,” she replied with a playful smirk. Her lips were painted a rosy shade of pink. I thought the color wouldn’t look too bad on me if I sucked it off her. Yeah, that was happening before the night was through.
The doorbell rang and Anna looked past me to the hallway outside our bedroom. “Babysitter is here. I should go let her in.”
Nodding, I let her walk past me. After she was gone, I looked over my reflection in the full-length mirror. Damn. The red on red on red was totally working for me. Even my hair was pulled back into a low ponytail with a red elastic band. My wife was a very lucky woman; I was fucking hot. Adjusting my tie, I winked at myself, then gave myself a kiss in the air. Yeah, I still got it.
Grabbing a full flask off my dresser, because I was sure I was going to need the help to get through this, I stuffed it in my back pocket and headed after my wife. I felt strange leaving my daughter’s life in someone else’s hands. But we’d used this girl a few times before, and so far nothing serious had happened. It better stay that way. I liked Jennifer, but I’d haunt her for the rest of her natural fucking life if she so much as let a hair on Gibson’s head fall to harm.
Anna and Jennifer were talking in the entryway when I got there. Jennifer was holding Gibson, who was playing with her mess of curly hair. It wasn’t long before Gibson’s fingers were completely tangled in the ringlets. “So, we’re probably going to be late,” Anna was saying. “I’m not sure how long the opening is scheduled for, but it’s a big night for everyone, so we’ll probably celebrate afterwards.”
“No problem, Mrs. H. It’s cool, stay out as long as you need to.” Jennifer was seventeen, but sometimes she sounded thirteen. It freaked me out. I’d feel better if a sixty-year-old grandma who’d successfully raised a dozen kids was watching our girl, but Anna was fine with Jennifer’s age. She often told me, “Relax, Jennifer routinely babysits for a handful of local celebrities. She can handle watching just one child for a few hours.” I guess. But I’d still feel better if someone more mature was watching my baby girl.
Jennifer’s eyes swung over to me when she noticed my entrance. Her gaze was approving; she liked my outfit. She always looked at me that way though. No surprise there, most women did. “Oh, hey, Mr. H. How’s it hanging?”
Normally I’d say something witty like, “A little to the left,” but her words instantly reminded me how young she was. With a frown, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You have our number? And the gallery’s number? And the rest of the band’s numbers?” You could never be too cautious about some things, and Gibson was one of those things.