Page 81 of Give You Up

“I’ve seen the paparazzi’s pictures, so yeah. Our kid is in good hands, baby. His granddaddy’s taking good care of him for us.”

Of course, that’s when Taron walks up to the house. Low growl from him. Hunter steps aside. His smirk is annoying, and if he doesn’t get it off his face, Taron will sock him.

“Whose baby?”

I move onto the small front porch in case I need to insert myself between them. Hunter sidles up to me and slides his arm across my shoulders.

“Ours. Syn’s dad’s been watching Gunner for us.”

Holy shit. How does Hunter know Beau is my dad and that my little brother’s name is Gunner?

“He has it all wrong, Taron. Remember, I’ll tell you everything soon.” I will not break my promise to Beau, but later tonight, after Taron leaves, I’ll call him. Where is Hunter getting his information from?

I am the nanny, the houseguest, Beau’s friend, but Beau has never introduced me as his daughter. Taron steps forward. Hunter tightens his hold on me. I’m expecting Taron to rush at him, plowing his head into Hunter’s stomach. Except what he does next takes me completely by surprise.

“No need, Pixie Dust. Makes complete sense now. The father of Syn’s kid can count himself as my friend too. Welcome to Dumas, man. How about some chow? I got extra.” Taron holds up two bags of food.

My stomach chooses that moment to growl. Hunter laughs. “Extras is good. My girl can eat. Don’t know where she packs it either. Her body is svelte and sexy fine. Come on, baby, let’s eat.”

He shoves the bouquet in my hand. I take in from him and walk inside my place. Hunter’s palm lands heavy on my ass. I cringe, expecting Taron’s caveman war cry followed by the sound of bone breaking. There is none, and again, I am surprised as well as proud of him for holding on to his temper.

Hunter is the jerk for baiting Taron.

We sit at the table, and the guys dish up. I set a bottle of ale in front of Taron and hand Hunter a Corona. The men pop off the tops and stare at one another as they down their drinks.

Afterward, they tear into their chicken breasts and thighs before digging into the cheese sticks. I pick at my food, not hungry. The tension is thick and the mood, murderous.

“So how long have you known Syn?”

“This year.”

I sip my beer and stay quiet. I understand why Taron responded the way he did. This year is our beginning. A chance to get to know the new us.

“You two together?”

Taron looks at me, his gaze intense. “That’s up to Syn. You see your kid often?”

“Ourkid.” Hunter grabs on to my hand and drops a kiss on my knuckles.

I let him rather than pull away. If I pull away, I’m afraid Taron will sock Hunter in the face and I’ll lose my chance of finding out exactly what Hunter’s motive is for bringing up Gunner.

“How often?” Taron wipes the grease and crumbs off his hands, over the plate so as not to make a mess on my table.

“That’s the thing. I haven’t seen my kid at all. Syn’s keeping Gunner from me. But that’s about to change.”

“How you figure?”

“Syn carves out time for me. When she does, I won’t tell the media she is Beau Huntington’s daughter.”

Nothing from Taron, not even raised brows or widened eyes. He takes the news like a champ, and thank goodness for people who have the awesome ability to keep poker faces.

“So your extortion is more about time with Syn than with your kid?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Hunter slides his arm across the top of the chair, and setting his hand on my shoulder, he pulls me close. Apparently, I’m not close enough. He hauls me off my chair and seats me on his lap. I squirm. Bad idea. His erection nudges my sex through my yoga pants.

“Fire her as your assistant. Pay her three months’ severance. Stay the fuck away from her. Do all of the above and I will keep Syn’s secret. Don’t and we’ll see what other secrets of Syn’s the media will find.”

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