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He’s even more chipper now and steps aside from the door to Cash’s apartment. “After you.”
I let myself in and immediately, a little blonde head comes crashing into my ankles. I swing my niece off the floor, tossing her in the air. “You’re like Usain Bolt on all fours.”
“Yeah, and Dora the Explorer when it comes to crawling into every cabinet in the house.” Harlow laughs. “Did you hear that she got into the bathroom cabinets the other day and unrolled twenty rolls of toilet paper?”
“I can’t wait to see what trouble we’ll get into once you’re walking.” I swing her in my arms. She bubbles with little giggles and a big smile, then the very next second, she’s wriggling like a worm and wailing.
“Loch, what are you doing here?” Cash comes shuffling down the hallway, dragging his hands down his face. Harlow gives me a matching tired look and holds out her hands, offering to take the baby from me.
“It’s okay. I got her.” I hold her little body tight to my chest, tucking her head onto my shoulder while Cash grabs one of the coffees I brought from the kitchen counter.
She keeps crying into my neck, and Harlow explains with an apologetic grimace, “She’s just tired. It’s about time for her morning nap.”
“Aw, but we were just starting to have fun.” I attempt to calm her by bouncing slightly rather than hand her to Harlow to put her down. I shouldn’t be using my baby niece like this, but she’s a Fox and will need to learn sooner or later that sometimes you gotta play dirty to get what you want.
Cash hands me a bottle of milk from the fridge. “So, what’s up?”
I cradle her in one arm and try to feed her with the other. She suckles for a moment or two but then sputters around the rubber nipple and wails. “Send me to Summerland,” I say, finally relenting, passing over a very grumpy Niamh to Harlow. She soothingly coos to her as she carries her away.
“No way, this is a huge project.” He runs his hands through his hair and settles onto the couch. I follow and sit in the armchair across from him.
“I’m ready to take on more responsibility. I’m good at more than just pulling fingernails and breaking kneecaps.”
He leans back. “I need you here.”
“I think you’re needed here more.” Right on cue, one of Niamh’s tired cries carries down the hall. It wasn’t a coincidence that I arrived at naptime when she’d be tired and fussy. Or that I let her get extra worked up before I finally handed her off.
Cash sighs and props his head on his hand, rubbing his temple. “Stella will be there too,” I remind him as I watch him process the idea. “There’s only so much she’d let me fuck up before tossing me to the sharks.”
He huffs a laugh in agreement. “Yeah, there’s a good chance you’ll come back castrated.”
“So, what do you say?” I try to keep the desperateness out of my voice, forcing myself to mirror his relaxed recline.
His eyes narrow slightly, and I’m worried he’s already picked up on my ulterior motives, but he sits forward and claps his hands on his thighs. “Be at the tarmac Thursday morning at five.”
I spring out of my seat then shake his outstretched hand. He stands and we pull the handshake into a hug. “Thanks, man. You won’t regret it.” I clap him on the shoulder and try to tamper my wild smile fighting to break through.
We step apart, and I want to punch the air like I’m Judd Nelson in The Breakfast Club, my hand even curling into a fist at my side. I pull it together and give him a final nod before heading to the door.
“And Lochlan,” he says behind me as my hand reaches for the knob. I look over my shoulder. “Next time you use my daughter in an attempt to manipulate me, I’ll castrate you myself.”
I smirk and raise my hand to my forehead in salute. “You got it, boss.”
1. Play “Sunroof” by Nicky Youre, dazy
2. Play “Best Part (feat. H.E.R.)” by Daniel Caesar, H.E.R.
Chapter 5
Summerland
Stella
The early morning fog creeps off June Harbor Bay’s gray waters and onto the tarmac. The whirring of the Foxes’ private jet engine turning on makes a flock of seagulls scatter into the sky. I tug my hood tighter against the abrasive sound so early in the morning.
I hear the clack of shoes on the pavement and the sound of dragging wheels. I turn around to see a frazzled flight attendant rushing toward me. Her kitten heels and tight pencil skirt make her run like a penguin. Once she reaches me, she brushes back the wispy bits of platinum hair that escaped her neatly pinned bun and exhales in a puff. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I’m late—I swear I woke up early too.”
“You’re not late,” I assure her. “I’m early.” She looks down at her watch and laughs when she sees the time. It sounds like a twinkle of bells, and not in a good way. I’m not much of a morning person. I’m sure it won’t be half as grating in a few hours.
