Page 16 of Damaged Protector
“Not much for us,” Shark said, cuddling his daughter, Harper, against his shoulder. “Hard to travel with a newborn.”
“We’re sticking around here too,” Shiloh threw in. “Cam’s cousin Mallori is coming to stay with us.”
“What is she? Like, twelve now?” I asked, and Cam laughed.
“She’s twenty-four, dude. Finished her last year of college online and is starting physical therapy school in the fall.”
“Wow, okay. These kids grow up fast.”
“Right? She’ll be staying with us until her dorm room is ready in August. She should be here in early June.”
“Is she Collin’s sister?” Bristol asked.
“No, Mal is an only child. My dad’s brothers are Brian and Nolan. Mallori is Brian’s, and Collin and his three brothers are Nolan’s sons.”
“Why is she coming so early?” Woody asked.
“I think she wants to get acclimated,” Shiloh answered before tightening her lips into a straight line. “But mostly, she probably wants to get away from her mother. She’s one of those stage moms.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Shark’s wife, Charli, said. “She’s a dancer.”
Bode and Landree’s oldest daughter appeared in the entrance to the living room. “Ummm, I think someone needs to check on the little kids. They’re… well, you need to just come look.”
“Are they okay?” Shark asked, leaning forward in his armchair, his eyes filled with worry as baby Harper stirred.
“They’re not hurt or anything,” Katie replied, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“I’ll go,” Charli said, smoothing her hand through her husband’s hair. “They probably just made a mess or something.”
“Or something,” Katie muttered, rolling her eyes in that way only a ten-year-old can properly accomplish. “It’s… bad.”
That had all of us standing and following the little blonde to the playroom. As we approached, we could hear a pftt pftt sound and then Bella Fitz saying, “Mia, you can roll over here and L.J., you go over there.”
All the adults crowded into the room, stunned into silence for a long, long moment. Bella had dumped several bags of Cheetos Puffs on the floor, and she was stomping them into a fine powder. The other kids—Mia, Mason, and L.J.—were stripped down to their skivvies and rolling through the orange dust.
“They look like goddamn Oompa Loompas,” I muttered, and Tank snorted out a laugh.
“I’m just grateful Amelia is napping right now,” he hissed back.
Cam marched across the room and picked up his daughter—the obvious ringleader of this little adventure—mid-stomp. “Bella Fitz, what in the… What are you doing?”
“I yike orange. Now all my fwiends are orange,” she told him, pointing proudly.
Cam massaged the spot between his eyes with his fingertips. “Bella, look at the mess you made.”
The little girl lowered her head and looked up at her dad through her dark lashes, her angelic face one of remorse. “I sowwy, Daddy.”
He didn’t say it, but I could read the for fuck’s sake on his face. “You’re going to help clean this up. Do you understand me, young lady?”
She nodded agreeably. “Okay, Daddy.”
“I’ll get the shop-vac,” Bode said, not even fighting his smile as he left the room.
“I’ll turn on the hose,” Ray said, following him and chuckling. “Y’all bring the kiddos outside, and I’ll spray them off.”
Charli, Tank, and Landree picked up the rest of the kids and headed toward the front of the house, leaving a trail of orange scattered along the hardwood floors of the farmhouse.
“Do you know what age they take kids for military school?” Cam asked me, exasperation written all over his face. I wasn’t sure he was entirely joking.