“Everyone else arrived an hour ago,” I tell him, my tone only slightly accusing. “We parked their cars in the garage. There’s plenty of room for your vehicle too.”
The garage has six bays, making it nearly as large as the house. With ten bedrooms and ten and a half baths, our home is prime real estate and a far cry from the Southside shithole I grew up in.
“This way.” I stride past Bryan and stop at the logjam at my front door. “Sweetness.”
I set the suitcases down and bend over to kiss my wife on the lips. Unable to stop myself, I poke my tongue between them and touch hers. It’s been too fucking long since I tasted her delectable mouth. I straighten and smile at her dazed expression. Yeah, I still make my woman melt.
“I’ll get Bry situated,” I tell her. “Can you escort Lace and Robert to the others?”
“Sure. We’re glad you got here safely.” She slowly gives me her world-famous smile, and my cock swells behind the zipper of my jeans.
Shaina Bentley Jinkins is the most famous actress in Hollywood, yet she willingly follows my command.
She shifts her gaze. “Good to see you, Lace.”
“You too, Shay.” Lace comes inside as Shaina steps back. “Wow, this is stunning. Love all the family portraits,” she says after glancing around the expansive two-story rotunda. Unlike the Southside hovel I grew up in, all the space in our home bears the evidence of our lives.
“Thanks. We like the extra square footage with the girls being older.” Shaina turns and beckons. “Everyone else is already in the gathering space.”
“Awesome.” Lace steps closer and the women walk away side by side, my twin girls following them.
I lose my focus for a moment, watching my woman’s sexy hips sway.
Getting it together, I turn my attention to Bryan and his son. “Hey, Robert.”
“Name’s Bo.” The thirteen-year-old kicks my boot with his and glares up at me.
“Sorry, little dude.” I raise my palms in mock surrender. “Didn’t realize you had a preference. I only met you once before, and you were only a babe back then.”
Our band schedule keeps us guys close, but it hasn’t been conducive to our families getting together until now.
“I’m not little.” His gray-green eyes flash. “I’m in seventh grade.”
“So you are.” Cheeky little shit. He reminds me of myself at that age. I grin at him.
“Robert Garrett Jackson,” Bryan snaps. “What have I told you about being disrespectful to your elders?”
“Yeah, okay, Dad.” Bo drops his chin onto his chest. “Sorry I was rude, Mr. Jinkins,” he mutters.
“It’s okay, little dude,” I say.
“Go with your mom,” Bryan says in a severe tone that I’ve never heard him use. “And stay out of trouble.”
“But I wanna stay with you guys.” The kid lifts his head and gives his dad a pleading look.
“No.” Bryan shakes his head.
“But they’re all girls,” Bo says and spreads his feet as if he’s planning to stay a while.
“Your Uncle Diz isn’t a girl. Neither are the other guys in the band.” Bryan’s gaze narrows. “So, do as you’re told.”
“Oh, all right.” Bo makes a face and turns away. His shoulders in his coat rise to meet the wavy ends of his brown hair.
“Man, you’re a hardass.” Eyes wide, I shake my head. I’ve never seen this side of Bryan.
Strike that. I have seen it, but only when his back is against the wall and he’s protecting someone he loves. Not sure who he’s protecting here. However, I do know that this dad business is a lot more complicated than being a rock star.
“Don’t want to be.” He exhales heavily. “But I have to. The kid has grown a huge attitude since school started this year.”