Chapter 143 (1/2)

Hardin already had Emery; Auden was mine. I told Hardin this often, but he just laughed and said that I’m too much of a pushover with Emery, and that’s why she likes him more.

“Addy is being a brat,” Hardin’s mini-me huffed. I imagined she was pacing around the room, pushing her blond hair back from her forehead like her father.

“Is she? How so?” There was sarcasm in Hardin’s voice, but I doubted Emery would catch on.

“She just is. I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“Well, baby, she’s family. You’re stuck with her.” Hardin was probably smiling, enjoying the dramatic world of a six-year-old.

“Can’t I have a new family?”

“No.” He chuckled, and I covered my mouth to laugh quietly. “I wanted a new family for a long time when I was younger, but it doesn’t work like that. You should try and be happy with the one that you have. If you had a new family, you would get a new mommy and daddy and—”

“No!” Emery seemed to hate that idea so much that she didn’t let him finish.

“See?” Hardin said. “You have to learn to accept Addy and the way she can be a brat sometimes, the way that Mommy accepted Daddy being a brat sometimes.”

“You’re a brat, too?” her little voice questioned.

My heart swelled. Hell yes, he is, I wanted to say.

“Hell yes, I am,” he said for me. I rolled my eyes and reminded myself to warn him about cussing in front of her. He doesn’t do it nearly as much as before, but still.

Emery went into a story about how Addy said they aren’t best friends anymore, and Hardin, being the incredible father that he is, listened and commented on every line. By the time they were finished, I had fallen in love with my brooding boy all over again.

I was leaning against the wall when he came out of her bedroom and closed the door behind him. He smiled when he saw me.

“Life in first grade is tough,” he laughed, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“You’re so good with her.” I leaned into him, my belly blocking me from getting too close.

He turned me sideways and kissed me, hard.

TEN YEARS AFTER THAT

HARDIN

“REALLY, DAD?” Emery glared at me from across the kitchen island. She tapped her painted fingernails on the granite and rolled her eyes, just like her mother.