Page 165 of Chaos

As for the latter… well, I take one step into the main house and Jackson hastily averts his gaze, some red finding its way into his tan complexion, so I think that confirms it.

I don’t get the time to tease him though—a little voice hollering my name commands my attention right before a just-as-little body slams into my legs.

“Do you have it?” the toddler clinging to me demands.

“Depends.” I drop to my haunches, toying dramatically with the magnetic clasp keeping the stuffed tote bag hanging off my arm closed. “What do I get if I do?”

I’m only teasing Alex. The knitted blanket that damn near took a year off my life is his, no matter what. I’m already reaching for it when he sighs and shuffles an inch closer. I go still as his arms slink around my neck and his body slumps against me, bringing us nose-to-nose. Those big, brown eyes blinking sweetly, he croons, “Please, Auntie Lottie?”

Like he’s lulled me into a goddamn trance, I nod slowly, my voice coming out softer than I’ve ever heard it. “All yours, kiddo.”

My nephew’s squeal warms my cheeks a second before wet, sticky lips do. Snatching the blanket that’s almost identical to the one I made him, he sprints the short distance to the sofa where his cousin and his youngest aunt sit, handing it over like he made the thing all by himself.

Still crouching, I shift my gaze to his mother. “I feel manipulated.”

Lux smiles grimly like she knows the feeling, but she still quips, “Sounds like a you problem.”

Speaking of problems—as my eyes rove the room and don’t find who they’re looking for, unnerving, unnecessary disappointment settles in my gut. “Where’s Finn?”

My sister-in-law snickers. “He’s hiding.”

“Why?”

Bug-eyed and silent, she points to the man hunched over the counter, chopping vegetables.

I groan and throw my empty tote at my brother’s back. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing you didn’t hear.” Jackson turns around and before my very eyes, I watch him shift fromolder brothertothe only father figure I’ve ever known. “Do we need to have a talk?”

My brows raise. “A talk?”

He drops his chin, and I sigh.

“We had the talk.” I remember every agonizing moment of it. I was thirteen. He was seventeen. We were both deeply uncomfortable. I can’t imagine he’s too keen to recreate the ordeal. “You did the whole banana thing. You took me to get an IUD. I took notes.” With raised brows, I glance at his one-and-a-half-year-old surprise. “Did you?”

When Lux barks a laugh, our brother’s scowl shifts to her. “What’re you laughing at, Juno?”

“Technically,” I butt in before things get ugly. “You should be worrying about Grace, not me. She’s the next oldest. If the Jackson curse is gonna get anyone, it’s her.”

More than one person questions, “The Jackson curse?”

“Y’know.” I wave a vague hand, lowering my voice so the younger members of our family don’t overhear. “Twenty-something and accidentally pregnant out of wedlock. Baby daddy is a dick.”

Jackson huffs an offended noise.

“Fine. That last bit is subjective.”

“Our children are not a curse.”

“No,” I agree with Lux. “Just cursed.”

She rolls her eyes, flicking me on the temple. “No one is cursed.”

“Lottie might be a little,” Luna quips. A second later, she snaps her fingers. “No, sorry. I meantpossessed.”

As the others chortle, I shoot each of them the stink-eye. “Oh, The Pregnancy Pact’s got jokes, huh?”

Lux itches her nose with her middle finger. “Go find your boyfriend.”

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