Page 76 of Damaged Protector
I laughed, getting out of my truck and walking around to help Mal down. “You’re dressed fine, trust me. And no, they don’t have a butler, though they do have two nannies. Charli’s mom, Mrs. Casper, and a younger woman named Ruby.” Gathering the bowl of fruit salad she’d insisted on bringing—as well as a grocery bag of my own—I led her to the red front door emblazoned with the silver star logo of the Fort Worth Wranglers, Axel’s team.
“Charli was a nanny here before she started her school, right?”
“Yeah, this is where she and Shark met.”
“I feel like I’m going to screw up someone’s name,” she hissed, and I reached over to squeeze her arm.
“Don’t worry about it. Axel and Blaire have so many damn kids, they call them by the wrong name at least half the time.”
Thirty minutes later, Mallori had met the entire gang, and she was fitting right in with everyone. We were in the kitchen, and I was stealing strawberries from the circular design she was attempting to make on top of the fruit salad.
“Would you stop eating the damn strawberries?” she asked, exasperated as she swatted my hand and put another slice in the place of the one I was currently chewing.
“That one was lumpy, so I got rid of it for you.”
“You’re lumpy,” she muttered.
And I replied with a cheeky, “That’s what she said.”
Mal stuck her tongue out at me as the triplets dashed through the kitchen, chasing each other with lightsabers. Ruby, the harried nanny, was hot on their heels, admonishing them to slow down.
I felt eyes on my face, and lifted my head to see India Bode’s gray irises staring back at me from across the expansive kitchen. They darted to Mallori and then back to me. A lifted eyebrow held questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Luckily, the stare down was interrupted by a shout.
“Uncle Hawk!”
“Care Bear!” I yelled back, bending to accept the twelve-year-old human cannonball that was hurtling my way. Carrie was the oldest Broxton child, and I’d been in her life since before she was born. With black, curly hair and brilliant blue eyes, she’d stolen what little heart I had from the first minute I saw her.
Her gangly legs hung halfway to the floor when I propped her on my hip, and we grinned at each other. “Mom says we can swim for a few minutes before supper. Will you throw me?”
“I dunno,” I mused. “My arms are feeling kind of weak today.”
She surveyed my huge biceps. “They are looking a little puny.”
“Excuse me, ma’am?” I growled playfully, and she giggled.
“If you can’t handle it, I’ll get Uncle Tank to do it. He’s probably stronger than you anyway,” she told me smartly.
I set her down. “Oh, it’s on now, baby girl. Go put your swimsuit on, and I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
She started to run out of the kitchen but circled back, stopping beside my roommate. “Mallori, will you swim too?”
“Sure, Carrie,” she replied, popping a strawberry slice into the little girl’s mouth. “I just need to finish this first.”
“Why did Carrie get a taste, but you yell at me when I eat them?”
“Because she’s cuter than you,” she retorted.
“No one’s cuter than me, Little Bee,” I told her, earning me a snort. “Go ahead and change. I’ll finish up here.”
Her aqua eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat the strawberries.”
As Mallori followed Carrie upstairs, I ignored the gray gaze that was shooting at me like a missile from the breakfast table, where India was stacking finger sandwiches on a tray. I didn’t need her crazy-ass thoughts in my head.
I attempted to replicate the spiral pattern Mal had been doing with the berries until Bode came up beside me and stared disapprovingly into the large glass bowl.
“That looks like shit, bro.”
“Thanks. I guess you think you can do better.” I knew he could. I also knew he couldn’t resist the challenge in my voice.