Page 132 of 12 Months of Mayhem

I can’t help but chuckle. “Baby girl, you’re a little young for leather and a Harley. Besides, your daddy would have a heart attack.”

It’s not as if I hadn’t tried to get her to wear anything but this stupid princess dress. We’d been to eight different Halloween stores before she finally settled on this one. Thank the good lord that Beaux takes after me. He has had his costume picked out for months.

“But I wanna be tough like you!” Birdie pouts, her bottom lip quivering.

I sigh, lowering myself onto the couch with a grunt. This kid’s got me wrapped around her little finger, and she knows it. “Come here, darlin’,” I say, patting the spot next to me.

Birdie cautiously approaches, eyeing the dress in my hand like it might bite her. When she’s close enough, I scoop her up and settle her on my lap—or what’s left of it, anyway.

“You listen to me, Birdie Reed,” I say, looking into those big blue eyes. “You’re already tougher than any princess I’ve ever met. And you know what? The toughest girls can wear whatever they want and still kick ass.”

Her eyes widen at the curse word, and I can practically hear Mama tutting in disapproval. But hey, the kid’s gotta learn sometime.

“Really?” Birdie asks, her little hands resting on my belly.

“Really,” I affirm. “Now, how about we make a deal? You wear this dress to the party, and when we get home, you can eat as much of your candy as you want.” I may live to regret this deal, but with any luck, she’ll be in a sugar coma before the worst happens. Sometimes, parenting sacrifices have to be made.

Birdie’s face lights up. “Deal!” she squeals, grabbing the dress and racing off to her room.

I lean back, closing my eyes for a moment. Christ, I hope Rex doesn’t kill me for this.

As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear the familiar rumble of Rex’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway. The front door opens, and his heavy footsteps echo through the house.

“Where is everyone?” Rex calls out.

“In here,” I respond, not bothering to move from my spot on the couch.

Rex appears in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the space. “You still look tired, Rem. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

I snort, running a hand over my face. “Yeah, well, try chasing a five-year-old while carrying a watermelon in your belly. It’s not exactly a walk in the park.”

He chuckles, crossing the room to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Where’s the little troublemaker?”

“Getting dressed, finally,” I sigh. “I had to bribe her with candy to wear that damn princess costume.”

Rex raises an eyebrow. “Candy? You know how she gets when she’s hopped up on sugar.”

“Yeah, well, desperate times call for desperate measures,” I retort.

“Where’s Beaux?”

“Up in his room getting dressed.”

Rex nods, then leans down to press a gentle kiss to my belly. “Has the baby settled down at all?”

“Nope,” I groan. “I swear, it’s like having a tiny kickboxer in there.”

A subtle shift in his demeanor catches my attention. His touch lingers on my stomach, but there’s a distant look in his eyes that I can’t quite decipher. “That’s my kid, alright,” he says with a forced chuckle, though his tone carries a hint of uncertainty that leaves me unsettled.

Just then, we hear the thundering of little feet coming down the stairs. Birdie bursts into the room, a whirlwind of pink tulle and glitter.

“Daddy! Look at me!” she squeals, twirling in her princess dress.

Rex’s face softens immediately, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins. “I’ve got myself a real-life princess.”

Birdie beams, basking in her father’s attention. “Remy says I can still be tough even if I’m pretty!”

Rex shoots me an amused look. “Did she now?” He scoops Birdie up, tossing her in the air and catching her as she shrieks with laughter. “Well, she’s right about that. You’re the toughest little princess I know.”

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