3. Hell hath no… furry

HELL HATH NO… FURRY

Hudson

This is not the scene I expected—hearing Lily screaming like a banshee through my vehicle's speaker system. It's so much worse.

Standing in the doorway to one of the spare bedrooms that is now basically Boone's room, I find him lying there, arm under her, and her little head on his chest. Both of their eyes are closed, and Lily's clutching a Knights rally towel in her tiny hand. Even in her sleep, her little body seems to be mourning the loss of her Lovey as she trembles slightly. Every few seconds, she inhales like she's trying to catch her breath, causing her shoulders to shudder.

I've seen compound fractures on the football field, yet this may be the most traumatic thing I've ever witnessed.

Silent sobs … fucking brutal.

Boone opens one eye and looks at me.

"If I have nightmares because of this, I'm going to kick your …" I finish my statement by mouthing, " ass. "

"She wakes up because you're yapping, I'm going to kick?—"

"No." She sniffs. "No kick." Her long, dark lashes flutter against her cheeks before she opens her eyes and looks at him. "I mad."

He nods. "I know."

Her lips start wobbling, and I swear my chest is going to explode. "Daddy, I want?—"

"Hey, Lily." I walk into the room and hold out the giant stuffed cupcake. "This is for you."

When she pops up into a seated position and spreads her arms wide, I can't help but smile as I head toward her.

"Daddy's going to use the bathroom while Hudson hangs in here with you and enjoys the second wind he just blew in here." He kisses the top of her head before sliding out of bed and glaring at me as he walks past, mouthing, " You fool ."

"Go shower, take a bubble bath, relax, cupcake . I got this."

I slide in on the other side and hand her the stuffed dessert.

Her little brow furrows as she looks it over, eyes stalling on the lettering. "What her name say?"

I decide to lie down and hope she follows suit because I'm no fool. "Snuggle down and let me see."

She does just that.

"It says Sugar Rush ."

Her brows synch together.

"It's the name of the shop your daddy and my friend owns. She wanted you to have it, so you get to name it."

She holds it to her nose and inhales while asking, "Is she my friend?"

I nod, and a plan forms. "She is. She wanted to bring it to you, but sleep is very important for girl bosses."

She cocks her head to the side. "Girl bossesess?"

"Smart girls who have"—what the fuck am I saying?—"big lives in a small town."

"I wanna be bossesess."

"All right, I'll help you out. But you really have to want it."

"I want it."

"First thing we have to do is turn out the light and close our eyes."

"You girl boss?"

"I'm a Knight."

"I'm a day. Light on, or stars up there." She points to the ceiling.

I expel a slow, exaggerated breath and say, "I'm not sure if the girl bossesess will let you?—"

"I try." She pouts out her lip, and my fucking chest tightens. "You stay."

"Yeah."

She snuggles into my side like she was with Boone, and it feels … amazing . Like a hug from Mom after winning a game. Except, in this case, I'm the adult, and she's lost the game, the game being Lovey, but whatever. Overthinking. It's fucking cool … until a realization hits and it's not so cool after all.

I decide immediately to go a little easier on Boone. It's gotta suck to have moments like this and then not get them until the ex decides to let you have your kid for a couple of days so she can do whatever it is that rich southern moms do for self-care.

"You decide on a name yet?" I ask.

"Nuh-uh."

"I bet you'll think of one in your sleep," I assure her. "That's where the best names come from."

She accepts my BS with a nod.

"Ya gots to close your eyes."

She doesn't have to ask me twice.

Within minutes, she's out, and that's when I feel eyes on me and pop one of mine open.

Boone is standing in the doorway, towel slung around his waist, and nods behind him.

I shake my head and whisper, "Not leaving. Too comfy."

"Did he just say comfy?" comes a voice, and not just a female voice, but one I swear I recognize.

I narrow my eyes at him in a question. There is no way I will put words to said question, and I really fucking hope he doesn't read minds.

An arm reaches around him, and Lovey emerges from the hand, whose fingertips are perfectly manicured and pale pink. Sydney found Lovey and brought it to my house.

In a low warning, Boone instructs, "Say nothing. Slide out carefully." His voice lowers an octave. "Do it without moving."

How the fuck does one not move when they're actually moving?

"Army crawl your big ass across the floor. There are ladies in the Hart home that you don't share DNA with you, and we owe them a drink."

"Are you going to put on some clothes?" Another and even more familiar voice asks. Riley.

I don't army crawl, but I do crouch, and I manage to make it out unscathed without waking Lily.

The three of them walk down the hall toward the stairs, and I follow behind them. Boone ducks into the bathroom, hopefully to put on some pants.

"Be down in a minute," he says.

At the bottom of the curved stairs, they look back for direction, and I nod left.

"Your kitchen is …" Sydney shakes her head and looks to be at a loss for words.

"Pretty cool," I say, trying to play that very temperature. This place is a fucking palace compared to anything I've ever lived in. But these girls have grown up amongst billionaires, football players, and rockstars; I'm damn sure I see it differently than they do.

"Pretty cool is an understatement. It's?—"

"Sexy," comes from behind us as Boone enters the room, pulling his shirt over his head.

"I'm not sure I've ever walked into a kitchen, even one this impressive, and thought, Dang, that's one sexy stove ." Sydney giggles.

Boone chuckles as he passes her on his way to the fridge. "That counter would be a perfect place to show the woman of the house your appreciation for a home-cooked meal. Don't you think, Riley?"

"Why are you asking me that? I didn't even engage in your conversation."

"You're the one with a ring on your finger," he answers easily as he grabs four beers from the fridge.

Riley holds up her hand. "Roads are getting sloppy; I'm good."

"Oh shit, did you all want a drink?" he jokes as he sets them on the counter.

"You're going to drink all four?" Sydney asks.

"After the past few hours, I could drink fourteen." He twists the cap off and slides one down the white marble countertop toward Sydney. "You deserve a drink for finding Lovey and saving me from feeling like I'm cuffed to a chair in a cell at Gitmo tomorrow when my little flower wakes up."

"There's no way that sweet little girl is as bad as you're making her sound."

"I can handle the siren sound she makes when she pissed, but …" He stops and shakes his head. "Ask Hart, he was almost in tears."

They look at me for confirmation.

"I wasn't in tears, but I wasn't unaffected by her body trembles and silent shakes."

"Aftershock." Boone slides me a beer.

"I'm scarred for life," I admit before taking a sip.

"You have a sister. You've seen a girl cry, haven't you?"

I nod as I swallow down the cold drink. "Wasn't a lot of crying. Jillian's a warrior. So is Mom."

They had to be.

The light catches on Riley's ring, and I find myself staring at it and feel my throat tighten.

"You have a sister?" Sydney asks Boone.

"Hell no. The old man only made boys," he states and holds up his hand. "Five of us."

"You the oldest?" she asks.

"Irish triplet." He chuckles. "The twins, Bronson and Benton, were born eleven months after me, Blane eleven months after them, and Mom found out she was pregnant with Bishop the day before she was supposed to get her tubes tied. Can you guess how many months after Blane that was?"

"Eleven months?" Sydney asks, still having not touched her beer.

"Nope." Boone grins. "He was a little longer than that. He and I share a birthday with Jesus."

I shake my head. "Your poor mother. Physically and financially, that's gotta be brutal."

"No, brutal is when he left her for one of the horse trainers when Bishop was still in diapers." He chuckles.

"What a piece of shit," Riley snarls.

"Sure is." He tips back his beer and empties it, sets it on the counter, and opens the next. "Technically, I have a sister. Never met her, though." He chuckles darkly. "She's eleven months younger than Blane."

"Someone needs to chop his balls off," Sydney huffs.

Instinctually, both Boone and I suck in a breath through our teeth at the thought.

"What do your brothers do now?" Sydney asks.

"Only thing to do where we came from was play sports and fuck. Couldn't afford anything else."

"They go to college?"

He nods. "All of them took some time off, then realized they didn't like working full time for the ranchers in our area and coming home to work at ours. Mom's family owned it, so the old man didn't get shit. Now the twins are in their last year at Bama; Bishop and Blane are playing for the Gators."

I scratch my head, "Had no clue your old man wasn't in your life."

"He's cut out of our lives, and they're doing good."

"They have a shot at pros?" Riley asks.

He nods. "Logan asked me about the twins, so they've been on someone's radar."

"Must suck to miss their games," Sydney says and takes a drink.

"It does, but my time off is Lily's. They get that."

"Brooksie, you want water or soda?" I ask, realizing she's without a drink.

"I'm good."

"You in a hurry to get back to your man?" I ask.

"He's in bed by nine; it's a school night," Sydney answers for her.

"Oh, that's right; he's going to be a lawyer ." When he grows up , I think but don't say as I walk to the fridge. "You afraid Ivy League's gonna be pissed you're out? Can't even have a drink of water?"

"He's my fiancé, not my father," she retorts.

I open the door, grab a bottle of water, and head back to hand it to her.

"Thanks." She rolls her eyes.

"So," Sydney interrupts the silence, "how long is Lily here in Blue Valley?"

"Trying to get her mom to let her stay until Monday so she can be at the game, but I'm not sure that will happen."

"Which is bullshit," I point out. "It's not like she's got to get back for school."

He'd typically react to this and agree, but he doesn't. "She's, um, trying to work with me."

"How does someone try to work with the father of her child?" Sydney asks.

He scrubs a hand over his face. "Lindsey's a good girl, just has controlling parents and an asshole boyfriend. She's seeing that more clearly now."

Something about the way he says that causes me to ask, "She talking about moving closer again?"

He nods. "She's talking about it, yeah."

"Her asshole boyfriend going to be okay with it?" Sydney asks.

"Good chance he'll be an ex in the next day or two."

I take a drink to ensure I keep my mouth shut. We've been here before, but I'm not going to say that in front of the girls. Doesn't piss me off any less that she gets his hopes up then fucks it all up. Twice since I've known him in two fucking years.

"It's all good, Hart." He chuckles as I set my empty on the counter.

"You don't like her?" Sydney asks.

"I don't know her enough to make that call." I open the fridge. "But I do know an ex is an ex for a reason."

"Amen to that." Sydney lifts her beer in the air. "I can't wait to meet my next ex, so when that goes south, I can put both in a group message and send shit like, I don't feel pretty today and can't decide which one of you to blame ." Her voice drops and is menacing as she continues. " You two discuss ."

I chuckle as I turn to see who else needs another.

Sydney hip-checks Boone, who's looking down at the counter. "It's different when you have a little one. No judgment."

"Yeah." He nods. "I just want them both to be okay."

Feeling like shit for not being supportive, I clear my throat. "You take care of them."

"Damn right, I do." His smile is there and gone in a snap, but the pride in his stance and voice is unmistakable.

I'm guessing he's taking care of his brothers and Mom, too.

"Lily's gonna know that, too," Riley says to Boone.

He nods as he taps his fist to his chest. "She's my whole heart. My number one."

"I can't wait to have kids." Riley smiles back at him.

And that … doesn't sit well with me. What the fuuuuck?

"Hart, where you go? You knight! Me day!" rings through the house. "I'm a bossesess! Lily, girl bossesess." And then, "Daddy I godda pee-pee."

Much like after our QB Cody Warren receives a snap, Boone and I both react the same way we would if we were on the field. I go wide, and he stays on the inside as he rounds the corner to the stairs.

If you ask an average man the question, what's more terrifying than a six-foot-six, three-hundred-pound defensive lineman from the Kansas City Chiefs coming at you with murder in his eyes or a tiny two-year-old child, half-asleep, standing at the top of your stairs with, yeah, pretty much the same look in her eyes as they meet mine, an average man would say the linebacker.

Not the fucking case.

"You bad!" she yells at me, then buries her face in the stuffed cupcake.

Taking the stairs two at a time behind Boone, I say, "I'm sorry, Lily girl. I had to?—"

Sydney cuts me off from behind, "They had to come down because your daddy was working hard to find?—"

"Wovey!"

Boone scoops her up and runs to the bathroom.

"Daddy, no! You bad!"

"You don't want to pee yourself when the nice ladies are here, do you?" he asks as he hurries into the bathroom.

"I wanna see 'em!"

"We're not leaving, Miss Lily," Sydney calls up to her. "We'll be right here when you finish on the potty."

We're all in the hallway when Lily walks out, holding Boone's hand. Her eyes stall on Sydney.

"Sydney, this is Lily; she's my friend," Riley says in a voice I've never heard her sassy ass use, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't do some sort of shit to my … balls.

Again , what the fuck?

She catches me looking at her and gives me a look like what?

And I give her a look like exactly .

She rolls her eyes, looking away from me and back to Lily, forcing my eyes back to where they should be.

"Sydney's the one who gave me the cupcake for you," I tell her.

She holds the cupcake to her nose and sniffs it. "Siney."

Sydney steps forward and hands her Lovey. "I bet they'll be best friends."

"Like you and Ry?" Lily asks quietly.

"Yeah, and you and I can be friends, too."

Lily's face brightens as she looks up at Sydney. "You wanna snuggle us?"

Boone chuckles. "I'm sure they have things to do."

Lily looks at me. "They girl bossesess?"

"They are." I chuckle.

She lets go of Boone's hand, walks toward the ladies, and looks up at them. "You gots to sleep. Come on."

"Little flower, they?—"

"We girl bosses got this," Riley says.

And just like that, the three of them walk down my hallway toward the room.

Boone looks at me, eyes narrowed, "What the fuck just happened?"

"I have no idea, but I'm not sure I like it."

We stand there, staring at the door for far too long, when Boone looks at me and asks, "What are we even supposed to do now?"

That's when the kitchen time goes off.

"Why's the timer?—"

"Pizza." He turns and bolts toward the stairs.

Eating, whether it be pizza or anything else when at home, is like going to church—it's an experience to be done in silence, with no phones or screens, just you and whoever may be with you, and with introspection. Also, like going to church, I'm sitting here, and my mind wanders in a direction that Jesus wouldn't want it to be heading.

I silently contemplate what is eating me the most. Is it her soon-to-be husband, or the fact I seriously like her and don't just want to flip her skirt up to show her a good time and get mine, too? Maybe the most horrifying part is that I think I'd want to cuddle with her and, worse than that, talk after sexy times.

Oh no, my bad, that's not the worst part. The fact that I fucked her sister is.

When I reach for another slice, Boone smacks my hand. "The girls may be hungry. Find something else to feed to your feels."

Scowling at him, I ask, "You know what you can eat, Boone?"

Smiling, he crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "No, what?"

"My dick."

"You Knights are all just giant twelve-year-old boys who figured out your hard-on wasn't just something you could slap around to watch it bounce back," comes from behind me … Riley, of course.

"Twelve?" Boone coughs. "Try nine."

"Nine here, too," I admit. "Twelve was when we figured out that the female belly button isn't where it goes."

"What?" She barks out a laugh.

I look at Boone. "Am I alone here?"

"No, man, the belly button is where most of us thought our dick went."

She's laughing as she walks around and sits on the stool between us. "So, you thought?—"

"We walked up and, boop , sex," I finish for her, and it's mostly because I'm afraid if she keeps talking about dicks, I'll end up beating off to her image tonight, which isn't fucking cool.

We all just about jump out of our seats when all of our phones spout off an alert.

"What the hell is that?" Riley asks, pulling her phone from … her bra .

Fuuuuck.

"Lockdown alert from the Czar of Skan Town.

"What?" Riley asks, reading over her screen.

"You're not in Blue Valley anymore," he says in a Dorothy from Oz voice.

"The roads are that crappy?" She walks over toward the wall of windows, looking out to the lake. "I have a Jeep, and it's not even snowing anymore. He can't shut down the roads."

" She can," he states.

"Fuck her," Riley huffs.

We immediately hear a ting, ting, ting begin as ice begins to hit the glass.

"This is not happening," she grumbles.

"Worse places to have to stay the night. Backup generator if power goes out is the bonus."

"I have that at my place, too," she huffs.

"I, uh, yeah, I'm gonna head to bed," I grumble as I start moving past them, sending Mom a text to make sure she's good.

"I'm not trying to be a bitch. I just don't want a fight with Brett," she says.

I turn around and look at her. "If the man who's going to be vowing to love you forever gets pissed because you're not driving on shit roads, he's an asshole, Riley."

She shakes her head. "I didn't tell him I was coming to Skaneateles."

I hold out my phone. "So, call him and tell him."

She shakes her head again. "He's asleep. He has classes tomorrow. A, um, test, and he needs to sleep."

I cross my arms and look at her, waiting for her to catch on that I'm not buying that shit. She crosses her arms and looks right in my eyes, saying not a fucking thing.

"I should keep my mouth shut and not point out that I see what you're doing, and it sucks you have to"—I mock gasp—"but oops, I already did."

"An NFL fuck boy giving me relationship advice?" She holds her hands to her chest and sighs dreamily. "Let me grab my pen." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out … her middle finger.

The fact my dick jumps at that makes me realize how fucking happy I am that I don't listen to my dick about chicks.

"You're infuriatingly adorable, Riley," I relent. "I just hope he fucking deserves you." I don't wait for a response as I turn, I tell her, "The rooms next to Lily's are free. The sheets and linens are clean. Try to control your primal urge to head down the hall to my room. And try to keep me out of your dreams tonight, Brooksie."

"Oh, please." She forces a laugh that wraps really loosely around the word, "Egomaniac."

My room is almost as big as the entire trailer we once lived in growing up. It spans the entire side of the house and has windows facing both east and west. So, from my bed, I can catch both the sunrise and sunset. I don't see the sunset often, but I live for those sunrises over the lake.

But today, it annoys the hell out of me. Why? Because from my huge-ass comfy bed, I can also see my security system on my phone screen, and I saw the minute Riley and Sydney took off, which was exactly three minutes after we got a text that the roads were re-opening. That was an hour ago, and I have yet to get up because I'm lacking the fucking enthusiasm I usually have when I open my eyes the first time on this one day a week during the season that I can do whatever the hell I want to. More importantly, eat whatever I want to, even though it feels like shit when I overdo it, which I typically do anyway.

Today's gonna be a stomachache kind of day because I'm fairly certain I'm gonna eat my feels, just like I did when I was a little fat kid, looking out a tiny-ass window from the top bunk of my bed in that mobile mansion wondering if today was gonna be a good day, or a bad day.