I wasn’t going to think about that.

“Of course you can see her, but I’m not joking. I need you to be committed to her if you’re planning on being a part of her life. You’re not buying a car you can trade in later on,” I repeated, needing him to understand.

I would kill him myself, and if I didn’t, I knew people who knew people.

And Grandpa Gus was a straight thug sometimes, and I didn’t want to know the people he knew.

But Jonah didn’t hesitate. “I am,” he confirmed with a tip of his chin.

Well….

I wasn’t going to hold my breath that he wouldn’t change his mind. As much as I wouldn’t have minded insulting him by reminding him that he didn’t have the greatest track record, I kept that to myself. At least for now. He could have that much.

This was about Mo. She was young, and if he bounced in the next few weeks, she would never remember. I was fine with giving him a shot now. Better now than later. Because he wasn’t going to get another one if he fucked up, and I’d warned him.

“Come on,” I said, thinking we needed to go ahead and get over him meeting Grandpa Gus.

I wasn’t sure how it was going to go but... tough shit.

He nodded as he got up, following me as we headed back to the living room. All three of them were still there, except Peter had made his way to sit on the floor where I had been, and he was watching her roll from her back onto her stomach and bouncing her butt, hands slapping the floor. She was going to crawl any day now, I could feel it. And that made me smile, even though the silence was stifling.

There was no way I was the only one who sensed the tension in the room.

But there was a reason why I loved Peter and thought the world of his morals and, unfortunately, a reason why I had liked Jonah so much.

“Mo! Say hi!” Peter said. “Hi!”

I could see Mo’s eyes widen either at Peter’s tone or at the man who was then standing right next to me as she moved her head to look in our direction.

I wanted to keep looking at her but decided to focus on the dumbass who had participated in creating this beautiful, perfect child. This child who was going to take ten years off my life but that I loved so much. So fucking much.

Jonah’s eyes went wide, which didn’t surprise me. But the hard swallow he had to take sent something I wasn’t going to inspect too closely straight to my gut. If that wasn’t an emotional gulp, I didn’t know what was. I noticed right then that he was carrying the little stuffed bear and holding it against his thigh.

But the Still an Asshole swallowed hard again as he asked, “Can I… can I touch her?”

I had to settle for answering him with a nod since I didn’t trust myself.

Jonah was still staring at the baby who had stopped trying to roll over to watch him instead, as his voice’s volume took a nosedive, and he said something that had me side-eyeing the fuck out of him. “It’s been a bit since I’ve held a baby, but I suppose it can’t be too difficult to remember, eh?”

Ugh. It wasn’t going to work. This innocent bullshit.

“It’s not that hard,” Peter responded to him. I was pretty sure he was side-eyeing him discreetly too. Measuring him up or something.

I held my breath and forced myself to be decent. For Mo. Damn it.

“I’m sure Grandpa Gus dropped me on the head a few times while he figured things out again, and I turned out all right,” I got myself to say, but only Peter looked over with a smirk that was still tense.

Grandpa Gus grunted though—not taking the bait he would have been all over normally over me being dropped—his eyes glued to the man I still hadn’t introduced him to standing in his living room.

Peter lifted Mo up, and I could only watch as Jonah set the bear he’d brought on the side table, took a step forward and then another, before those big hands went to that not-so-small but still growing and fragile and soft body, and he took her. Hands curled under her little armpits as her feet dangled in the air, looking smaller than usual in comparison to the biceps barely flexing as they held her up for inspection.

Ten fingers. Ten toes. Dark haired. Adorable as fucking shit. I’d wiped her down after speaking to Jonah on the phone and put her in her pajamas: a long-sleeved onesie with the Cookie Monster on the chest.

Jonah took Mo… his daughter… and he said, very softly, very gently, and with just the slightest hint of a tremble in his voice, “Hello, Mo.”

The happiest baby in the world smiled before she replied in her own language.

*

She passed out in Jonah’s arms.

I wasn’t overthinking it. Mo didn’t know a stranger. She loved being fawned over and didn’t give much of a fuck who paid her attention as long as someone did, which according to Grandpa Gus was exactly the opposite of how I’d been. He claimed I came out of the womb bitch-facing people and had clung to him for dear life like someone was going to try and steal me away. It was only Peter that I had taken to immediately.

But my little nugget had passed right out in her father’s arms thirty minutes after meeting him. Totally and completely out. Peter had taken her then, settling her right back down when she started to fuss at being moved, and headed up to her bedroom. To give me a chance to talk to this dipshit, I guessed.

“When can I see her again?” Jonah asked me as we stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching Peter go up, slowly, shh-shh-shhing the entire time.

It only hurt me a little to answer that. “Whenever you want.”

He nodded, and I could hear the deep breath he took before he turned and lowered his gaze to me. I was five foot eight, but he was still a lot taller than I was.

Not that it mattered. I didn’t know shit about tackling, but I had a purple belt in jiu-jitsu. I had learned a long time ago not to be intimidated by people bigger than me. I wasn’t about to start now. To be fair, his expression as he looked at me was probably almost as intense as the one I’d given him when he first showed up, but I didn’t even think about getting all meek or anything.

He didn’t either apparently. “We need to talk.”

I didn’t want to talk to him, but I nodded. If he was committing, that was one thing. It didn’t change the fact we were going to have to figure out the details of making this work as we went along.

“Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

No.

But for my girl, I would, so I nodded.

“What time are you available?”

I shrugged and heard the distance in my voice. “Whenever.”

His eyes moved back toward the living room, where my grandfather was sitting, more than likely shooting daggers dipped in poison at him with his eyeballs. To give him credit, after Mo had smiled at him, Jonah Collins had shaken Peter’s hand and officially introduced himself. Peter had been polite, but I could tell it was just manners and compromising. For us.

But Grandpa…

He’d taken one look at the hand that Jonah had extended toward him and didn’t move an inch to take it, despite the blatant-ass cough that Peter had aimed at him. Jonah had tucked his hand back in after realizing he wasn’t going to get a handshake and still told him it was nice to meet him with a nod. Grandpa didn’t say a fucking word.

All in all, for my gramps, that hadn’t been so bad.

“Thank you for letting me see her,” Jonah Collins said, still watching me with those clear light brown eyes that were so striking on his tanned face.

I wanted to dislike him, I really did. I wanted to think he was full of shit, but honestly, I didn’t know what to think about his reactions all day. Maybe he was telling the truth or maybe he wasn’t. I was willing to put it aside and just steep in that in private. But at the same time… fuck him. Obviously he didn’t feel that guilty over shit, so why should I spend the rest of my life bitter over someone who hadn’t cared about my feelings in the first place?

Once I thought about it like that… well, since when did I give anybody that kind of power? I was going to live my best life for me, not for somebody else. It made me mad just to think that I’d do otherwise.

I was not going to waste my life being pissed off at someone. I had better shit to do. People didn’t give enough credit to what not giving a fuck could do for you. It was freedom.

“Uh-huh.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’m off tomorrow. If you aren’t here by one, I’m not going to wait to eat.”

He nodded tightly.

We made it to the door before he called out over his shoulder, “Lenny.”

“What?” I asked, reaching around his hip to undo the lock and ignoring the side of the tight, high butt inches from my forearm as I did it.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

My hand froze for a second before I brought it back to my side. “Okay.”

He turned around then, aiming that annoyingly intense face at me, looking down in a way that had me wishing for maybe the first time in my life that I was taller. That he didn’t have the ability to have that tiny advantage over me. Once upon a time, I had liked how jacked he was.