Page 43 of His Relentless Angel

“Stupid Devilainey! I’m gonna kick you back one of these days.”

“I’ll tell Dad, and he’ll kick your ass!”

“I’m telling Mom you cursed!” There’s a brief pause before Grayson releases a pained grunt, and I imagine Lainey kicked his shin again.

“You jinxed us,” I say, lightly thumping Isaiah in the middle of his chest, followed by a quick kiss in apology.

Isaiah sighs and motions for me to leave the bathroom so we can go wrangle the kids. I pick up Mirabel and set her on my hip as we make it back to the kitchen where Gupreet is leaning against the island.

He tips his head toward the backyard. “I didn’t know if you’d want me to step in or…”

“I’ve got it.” I leave Isaiah in the kitchen with Gupreet and step out onto the sizable rectangular brick patio. Low bushes and pink crepe myrtle trees line the tall wood fence on all three sides of the backyard. Even with the playground set, there’s still plenty of open grass to run around, and visions of hosting future family get-togethers flit across my mind. Nothing could be more perfect.

Grayson and Lainey are in tears when I step between them, listening as they try to talk over each other to give me their sides of the story about what happened to start their fight. They both make a face when I ask them to apologize to each other, and I know they’re lying through their teeth when Grayson promises not to call her Devilainey and Lainey promises not to kick him again.

I set Mirabel on the second swing to push her while we wait for Isaiah and Gupreet to finish up. Isaiah steps out onto the patio with a strange look on his face.

“What? Have the sellers already gotten back to you? Did they reject our offer?” Panic starts to bubble up inside me.

“No, we probably won’t hear back until tonight or tomorrow,” he says, slowly approaching. “It’s just…this.” He motions to me and Mirabel. “It’s almost exactly what I imagined.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about, and before I can ask, he’s joined my side and swept me into the kind of kiss that would mostly definitely lead to him taking me in the grass if the kids weren’t here.

Gupreet clears his throat loudly, and we break apart, slightly embarrassed to find everyone staring at us. “Sorry,” I squeak. “Got carried away.” Grayson looks at us like he’s trying to work out an equation.

“We’re going to have to tell Sherman when he gets back,” Isaiah whispers, “before little man spills the beans.”

“I know.” I’m both excited to be done hiding our relationship and slightly terrified of how Dad will react. If he’ll try to get between us. I know he wouldn’t be able to stop us from being together, but I’m worried it might fracture the family if he doesn’t want Isaiah coming to family functions. If Isaiah isn’t invited, then he has to know I won’t go either.

With the other house showings canceled since we’ve settled on the first one, we have the rest of the day to figure out what to do with the kids. After taking them out for ice cream, we sneak into the quiet Bartlett house so the kids can grab their swimsuits and towels and take them to a city splash pad that’s open to the public.

Sweat drips down my chest under my shirt, and I pull it away to fan myself. “Dang it. Wish I’d brought my swimsuit too.”

“I’d have to knock every man out if you did,” Isaiah says gruffly from beside me on one of the metal picnic benches circling the splash pad.

“Think we have enough room to put in a pool at the house? Or would that cost too much?”

He kisses my temple. “I think we could swing it.”

“Really?” I eye him. “Just how much money do you make?” And why the hell have I never asked before?

“Enough to give my angel whatever she wants.”

“Pinch me, I must be dreaming.” Isaiah slides me on top of his lap and pinches my butt, making me giggle and squirm on his lap.

In an instant, we fly from the picnic table to the middle of the splash pad when a fight breaks out and we see Grayson punch an older boy square in the face, then shove him away. The boy trips over his feet and lands on his butt. Thank god he didn’t fall all the way and smack the back of his head on the concrete. Grayson lunges forward like he’s going to punch the boy again. Isaiah grabs him around his waist and hauls him off his feet into the air, kicking and screaming.

“Holy shit, Grayson! What the hell happened?” I go to the boy he pushed to check on him and make sure he’s ok when Grayson breaks free of Isaiah’s hold after he sets Grayson on his feet. We’re both slippery from the water sprinklers, but I manage to hold him back before he can reach the boy and do any more damage.

Many of the other parents are leaning forward to watch the fight, while some come to hurry their kids away, but no one steps forward for the boy. “Where are your parents, honey?”

“Fuck you,” he says, his cheeks red with either fury or embarrassment. He rolls over onto his knobby knees, then takes off running with a few other older kids standing around watching, all without parental supervision.

“I think it’s time to go, B,” Isaiah says when we herd the kids back to our table, wrapping each of them in a dry beach towel and guiding them toward the gated exit, all of them half in tears.

Lainey is full on sobbing as we buckle Mirabel into her car seat and Gentry and Artie into their booster seats after Isaiah gets the Suburban up and running. My brows shoot up to find Grayson bear-hugging Lainey by the back hitch.

Lowering myself by their sides and hugging them both, I ask, “What happened?”

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