My brows lift in surprise, and maybe doubt, because Georgia doesn’t eat when she’s nervous. Something I’ve learned since I met her.
She scoffs, eyes still glassy. “You’re so worried about my food consumption.”
“Just lookin’ out for you, darlin’.” I lean in and press a kiss to her mouth, not giving a single damn who sees.
She jolts back. “Kade! Your mother will see!”
“So the fuck what.”
“But…” Her free hand flaps helplessly, Aurora bouncing on her hip. “Then she’ll know—”
“That we’re together?” I shrug, stepping into her side and facing the whole room. “Good.”
She mutters a string of hissed curses under her breath, but I ignore them.
“Listen up, everyone!” I bark, loud enough to shut the room down. Every fork pauses mid-bite. Every chair stops creaking. Every mouth shuts.
I smirk to myself.
Still got it.
“This is Georgia,” I say, gesturing to my girl before dropping to point at Aurora. “And this is Aurora.” Finger up. “My woman.” Finger down. “My daughter. Any questions?”
The silence lasts three whole beats.
Then—
“Oh my God!” Colby shrieks, clapping like a lunatic.
Clem sniffles beside her, dabbing at her eyes like I just proposed marriage instead of claimed my whole damn life in two sentences.
My mom? Full-on tears.
Emmy hollers.
The kitchen explodes in cheers.
Georgia, though?
She just turns her head and glares at me. Side-eye so sharp it could kill a man twice my size. I grin, unrepentant and waggle my brows. “Now I don’t have to hide it when I kiss you. Problem solved.”
“You’ll be lucky if you ever kiss me again, sunshine,” she mutters, but her tone’s soft, eyes full of something that looks a hell of a lot like hope.
“You claimed her as your daughter,” she whispers.
I look down at the baby in her arms—my baby—and smooth a hand over her soft curls. It’s new, it’s fast, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s mine.
“I know.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Georgia breathes. “So damn proud.”
My throat goes tight again. I kiss her, then press my lips to the top of Aurora’s head, inhaling her soft, baby scent.
“Let’s go home. I’ll pack some food to go, but we’re beat. And she needs her bed.”
Georgia hesitates, worry flashing in her eyes. “But what about the fire? What happened?”
My eyes flick to the corner, where Memphis, Dallas, and Nash are now talking in low tones with my mom. Dallas says something, and Ma’s face crumples—but she doesn’t let it drop. Shoulders straight. Chin up. Always.
