Page 18 of Insta-Family (Forbidden Descendants 3)

My brother and his wife, Bentley, were with me, my first visitors of the day. Bentley had immediately stolen my child and was sitting with her in the rocking chair, cooing happily, and Beau was hovering around my breakfast tray that had just been delivered. Apparently, Bentley had rushed him from home to drop Braiden off with her parents and get here before he could eat, so he was hungrily eyeing all my food when a tap came on the door.

“Come in,” Beau called over his shoulder as if it were his room, not mine, and he reached for a stalk of celery in my veggie cup.

I smacked his hand and glowered. “Really?”

“What? You don’t even like celery.” And he rebelliously dipped it into my ranch dressing before popping it into his mouth.

Behind him, the door opened, and a nurse poked her head inside. “You have a visitor. He says he’s the baby’s uncle.”

“Huh?” Beau whirled around with his mouth full. “No, I’m the baby’s uncle.”

He marched toward the door indignantly and yanked it all the way open to reveal part of the man who was standing behind the nurse.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m, uh...Vaughn Merrill.”

My pulse zinged when I heard his familiar voice, but that was probably just because my system was preparing for my blood pressure to skyrocket with anger as it always did in Vaughn’s presence.

“Merrill?” Beau repeated. “You the dead guy’s brother, then?”

“Beau!” I hissed. But, oh my God, how had I been related to this inconsiderate buffoon my entire life? Although, you know, his influence on me was probably the reason I accidentally had my own inconsiderate moments more often than I wanted to.

He glanced at me with a shrug. “Want me to let him in?”

Did I? I kind of dreaded going another round with Vaughn; I was still worn out from giving birth less than twenty-four hours before. But he was Ava’s uncle. It’d feel rude to turn him away. Besides, I was curious to know why he was here, to begin with. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since I’d asked for a picture of Duke. And oddly, I was sort of eager for the strange dopamine hit of enraged vitality that rushed through me whenever I was in his presence.

Lifting a hand, I waved my assent to Beau. “I mean, yeah. Whatever. He’s her family.”

The nurse, then Beau, stepped aside, and I got my first full view of Vaughn in months. The gift bag he held had a pastel rainbow on the side with a teddy bear sliding down it into a pile of clouds. It looked really strange in his terse, grumpy possession.

I blinked at him as he uneasily stepped into the room.

“How did you

know…?” I started, shaking my head in wonder.

“I called the hospital to see if you were here,” he answered before gulping and wincing guiltily when he added, “every day for the past three weeks.”

I’m not sure why hearing that hit me the way it did, but this wave of emotion rippled through me. I just couldn’t imagine someone caring that much and going through—

Though yeah, you’re right; it was probably Ava he’d cared about getting information on, not me.

I think I hid my feelings rather well when I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Oh, geez. You could’ve just called me, you know, if you wanted baby updates. Or did you lose my contact card?”

“No.” He shook his head and heaved out a heavy sigh. “I still have it. I just—I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me again after last time since I was kind of a…”

When words failed him and he shamefully lowered his face, I helpfully supplied, “A jerk? You were a jerk.”

He glanced up, and his voice cracked when he said, “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

I shrugged, realizing I actually wasn’t mad about his past behavior anymore, or even if I really ever had been. “It’s okay,” I told him, not wanting him to feel bad about any of it either. It was all water under the bridge. “You were still in the middle of mourning. And I could’ve been a lot more empathetic and patient with you.”

I squinted at his face, wondering how he was doing these days, grieving-wise. He’d shaved, so maybe that was a good sign. It was hard to tell, though; he was such a closed-off kind of guy. Completely different from how his brother had been.

“What happened last time?” nosy Beau asked, making air quotes when he spoke.

“None of your business,” I snapped at him, before returning my attention to Vaughn. “This is my brother, Beau, by the way. And his wife, Bentley.”

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