Page 7 of Hopeless Romantic
Levi glared at the chicken sitting on his barstool and sighed. Pecker’s head bopped up, his neck stretching like a slinky, to peer over the countertop. He didn’t look, or act, like any chicken Levi had ever seen.
The guy had feathers everywhere. There were so many on his feet, he looked as if he were wearing boxy white trainers. On top of his head sat a wild crop of feathers that stood out in all directions, making him look like a Muppet collided with Einstein on the set of a rap video.
“Cluuuck. Cluck. Cluckidy, cluckcluck.”Pecker’s tone sounded irritated.
“I’m not happy about this, either,” Levi said.
“Man, the past five minutes was worth braving the storm to get a cold beer,” put in an amused voice from beside him.
“I’d have walked all the way here in the rain without an umbrella to see that,” another, even more annoying voice said.
He looked over as Emmitt and Grayson, the two people he’d most want by his side in a fight, appeared from the kitchen. Both carried platefuls of food piled high, and both wore matching shit-eating grins.
“This isn’t a soup kitchen,” Levi said.
“Add it to my tab.” Emmitt Bradley, his best friend and constant pain in the ass, took a stool three down from the one Beckett had vacated faster than a fisherman in a hurricane. Gray plopped down next to him.
“Add mine to his tab, too.” Dr. Grayson Matthews, the town’s favorite pediatrician and Levi’s brother-in-law, leaned over the bar to grab a frosty mug. He placed it under the spigot right as Levi snatched it away.
“Do I walk into your office and touch your things?” Levi asked.
“Bad form, Gray,” Emmitt scolded. “You know how pissy Levi gets when someone touches his spigot.”
“You guys should take this act on the road,” Levi said, but poured them each a beer. “Why are you even here?”
The look his friends exchanged was a familiar one. Something was up. He glanced at Emmitt. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your pretty fiancée?”
“Annie’s covering a shift for Lynn. Won’t be home until eleven.”
Great.Five uninterrupted hours of Emmitt interrupting Levi at work.
Early on, Levi had taken great joy in watching the self-proclaimed ladies’ man, who’d spent most of the past decade photographing and covering world events from the opposite side of the globe, mutate into a house-trained and lovesick puppy. But when left idle, Emmitt acted like a sugared-up toddler, unable to sit still, entertain himself, or play well with others.
Whenever Annie worked late at the hospital, and Emmitt was between assignments, he quickly became bored. And if he couldn’t find anything better to do, he’d pass the time by driving Levi crazy. Didn’t matter if Levi was tending bar, managing the marina, or sleeping on his boat; Emmitt’s pestering knew no limits.
Yeah, he was having a hard time finding the humor in the situation now.
“And why are you here, scarfing down dinner on a Tuesday night?”
“Paisley’s at your mom’s place,” Gray said, referring to his stepdaughter—and Levi’s niece. “She failed her driver’s test.”
“Again?”
“So much for third time’s the charm,” Emmitt said, glaring at Gray. “It’s not often that nurture trumps nature, but this is all on you, man.”
“The hell it is,” Gray choked out around a mouthful of calamari burger. “You’re the one whoinsistedon teaching her to drive. I’d put some heavy quotes around the drive part, but my hands are full.”
“It’s a rite of passage for a dad to teach his kid how to drive. Biologically, that’s me.” Emmitt pointed a fry in Gray’s direction. “But nothing, and I mean zippo, nada, zilch, could make up for the years of bad habits she inherited from riding in the back of your mom-mobile.”
That’s right. Emmitt was the birth dad, Gray the stepdad, and Levi was the guy who’d taken on the role the minute Michelle told him she was going to be a single mother.
The three men couldn’t be more different, but one amazing little girl had cemented their connection—made them a family. Paisley wasn’t so little anymore, and their tribe was down one member, but their bond was stronger than ever.
That’s what love did, stripped away all life’s baggage and BS until all that was left was family—vulnerable and pure, embracing each other’s imperfections without hesitation or judgment. From that moment on, everything on the spectrum from bliss to pain, joy to loss, was experienced together.
In this case, it was three dads joining forces to give their daughter the fullest life possible—and pointing fingers at each other when the shit hit the fan.
“I’m an excellent driver,” Gray said, leaning forward on his stool. “Not that it matters. Paisley said she wants to pick her teacher for the next round of driving practice.”
