“It was a kitten?” Rose asked excitedly as she chopped up the small unseasoned chicken breast that we’d ordered for Bucky tonibble on while we ate our dinner. We’d asked for a table outside so he could join us and not be stuck in the truck for the duration of our meal.
“Yup,” Marshall said, spearing a chunk of carrot. “A pure black one, by the looks of it. Young, too, right, Daniel?”
I nodded as I swallowed my mouthful of braised beef. “Maybe six weeks old? I couldn’t tell because of Kajir’s giant hand. Could be younger, could be a little older.”
Rose sighed longingly. “I wonder if he’ll keep it.” Her eyes lit up before she turned her full focus on me. “If he can’t, can we? I mean, Bucky was the one who found it. It’s like it’s destiny!” She fluttered her eyes at me in a desperate attempt to sway me.
With my elbows on the table, I pointed my fork at her. “No.”
“Please?” she begged as Marshall chuckled. “Come on, Daddy Danny! We have the space.Please?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You already have Bucky. Isn’t he enough?”
“Never!” Rose declared cheerfully.
“And what about your work at the vet and animal shelter?” I asked pointedly. She’d been volunteering at the local animal shelter during her summer break and wanted to continue until she started the new school year in a few weeks’ time. “And school?”
“I can handle it,” she promised. “Please?”
I chanced a look at Marshall, who simply shrugged, looking amused by our discussion, then turned back to Rose to raise an eyebrow at her and say, “You do realize this conversation could all be moot if Kajir keeps the kitten, right?”
“I know,” she conceded. “But you always say that it’s good to have a backup plan, right?”
I gave her a flat stare. Damn her for using my own arguments against me.
A cheeky grin spread over her face when she realized I knew that she had me.
“So, Marshall….” Shifting in my seat, I faced Marshall and blatantly ignored Rose’s whoop at her apparent victory. “Tell me about your dinner. Are you enjoying it?”
Kind man that he was, he simply grinned at our antics and didn’t call me out. “Yes, thank you. It’s delicious.” His eyes twinkled playfully in the late-afternoon light as he glanced down at my mouth and bit his bottom lip. He leaned toward me to swipe his thumb over the corner of my lips before slyly placing it onto his outstretched tongue and sucking on it. “You had a little something….”
I could feel my gaze turn molten at the simple gesture before I realized Rose was sitting right there next to us. Swallowing nervously, I blinked and sat back, fidgeting with my napkin before placing it in my lap to hopefully hide my stiffening cock. I chanced a glance at Rose, who was, thankfully, focused on feeding another piece of chicken to Bucky and not paying a lick of attention to either of us.
“Oh, who do we have here?”
The smile immediately dropped off my face and my jaw tightened at the sound of a voice Ireallydidn’t want to hear, especially not whilst I was at Malone’s. By the look of slight confusion and alarm on Marshall’s face, he’d immediately picked up that something had changed and not for the better. I watched his eyes dart from mine to over my left shoulder. I swallowed a sigh and placed my knife and fork down so I wasn’t tempted to stab someone with them. “Brett.”
“Daniel.”
Gritting my teeth, I slowly turned around to see my ex-husband, Jackson, and his boyfriend, Brett, standing next to our table.
With his dark brown hair still carefully spiked and the neat but slightly rumpled white business shirt and cobalt blue jacket and pants, I assumed that Jackson had just finished work. He’d always preferred a more laid-back, casual vibe, but I knew, through Rose, that he needed to dress up for the corporate job he’d found after he’d left us.
The Jackson I knew would have hated every second that he had to wear starched suits and ties. Hedidlook supremely uncomfortable standing there behind his boyfriend, but I didn’t think it was his clothes that were giving him trouble.
No. That honor fell to his boyfriend.
Brett looked sloppier than I’d ever seen him. Shorter and stockier than Jackson, Brett’s black hair was a mess, as were the stained burgundy shirt and dark chinos he wore. His cheeks were ruddy, and his eyes were glazed over like he’d been drinking heavily.
One whiff of his breath as he swayed in front of me proved that assumption to be 100 percent correct.
“Jackson.”
To his credit, Jackson looked like he wanted to be anywhere else other than bothering us at our family dinner. “Hi, Daniel.” He glanced at Rose, his face morphing into worry. “Hi, Rosey.”
“Hi, Pappy Jack—”
“Who’s he?” Brett demanded, cutting off Rose’s greeting and glaring at Marshall.
