Page 3 of Dissonance

Why—of all the people on this planet—does the biggest client of my career have to come with Lachlan James attached?

And why does my discipline always falter where he’s concerned?

Chapter One

Lockie

Three years later

“Shit, Lockie, hold up.”

With a sigh, I glance over the arm of the couch wedged in the doorway at a bad angle, its fabric snagging against the doorjamb. Declan grunts, shoulder braced under one end, adjusting his stance until it finally gives. I could’ve done this on my own, but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful for the help.

Easing it through together, it clears the frame with a soft scrape before we settle it onto the living room floor of my new home.

“Good job,” Cooper says somewhere from what will become the dining room.

“You could help, y’know?” Declan mutters, straightening with a groan and rolling out his shoulders.

He doesn’t even look up. Poking around in a box labeled Kitchen Misc in thick black marker with one hand, he bounces Ziggy with the other, cradling him to his chest. “I am helping.”

“You’re just holding the baby.”

“Exactly.” His voice drops to a coo as he stares down at his son. “Tell Daddy I’m occupied.”

Snorting, Declan steps closer, brushing his knuckles gently over the back of Ziggy’s head before pressing a kiss to the crown of it.

“I think your Papa’s too much of a diva to lift anything heavy,” he murmurs, smiling when Ziggy gurgles in reply.

“Wow. Betrayed by my own husband.” Cooper sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’ll grab another box from the car.” He pauses, then looks at me. “Here. Hold him.”

I hesitate a fraction too long before Cooper shifts Ziggy with practiced ease and deposits him into my arms. His weight settles against my chest, wee fingers curling into the front of my shirt like he’s testing the fabric.

I adjust my grip, one hand under his diapered backside, the other firm at his back. He’s warm, heavier than I expect for someone so small. Big, dark eyes blink up at me that could easily be Declan’s, with the same dirty-blond curls that remind me of Cooper.

“Relax, man,” Declan says, smirking around the neck of a beer bottle. “He’s not gonna bite you.”

Ziggy squirms, lets out a soft huff, and I tighten my hold, watching him settle again. The weight of him, the solidness of a tiny person who has no idea what the world is yet, makes every other thought go quiet. After a second, he yawns, eyelids dropping.

“You’re a natural,” Cooper calls out as he reappears in the doorway with the smallest box he could have found.

I glance up at him, unimpressed. “Aye, right. Feels like a lifetime since I’ve held a baby.”

Declan snorts. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Knock, knock.” Cooper’s mom’s voice sing-songs before her head pops around the doorframe. “We come bearing gifts.”

Declan’s mom follows close behind her, both of them loaded with shopping bags and already making a beeline for the kitchen. They set everything down on the island, moving around each other with the easy familiarity of two women who’d practically haunted the place during construction, turning up with paint swatches and opinions about kitchen layouts before the walls were even up.

“Mrs. Rid— Holly,” I correct at her pointed look. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know, sweetie,” she says easily, opening cupboards like she already knows what lives where. “But when my son decided to move us all closer together and build us brand-new houses to do it, I reserve the right to stock the kitchens.”

“It was the least I could do,” Cooper says, appearing behind her and dropping a kiss to her cheek. “You spent the last ten or so years flying all over the place to see me play. Felt like time I returned the favor.”

“You bought more land than you’d ever need mere minutes from the house you grew up in.” His mom pats his cheek, then swats it lightly. “Pretty sure Taunton Falls had something big enough for you.”

“Excuse me for wanting everyone I love close by,” he grumbles.