Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

“You heard me. Take the boat and go cast a line.”

The boat? He had a fecking boat?

Maybe I really hadn’t visited for three years. My younger sister round with a baby, my father with a boat. My brother might’ve run off with a harem of pole dancers for all I knew.

“Is Thomas married?”

My mum frowned at me. “He’s in university. Don’t you even remember the age of your own brother?”

The disappointment in her voice knocked me down half a dozen pegs. I reached out to cover her hand with my own. Her skin was soft enough to tease out more memories than I could stand from the hope chest I’d buried them in. “I remember. It just seems so much has changed.”

My father rose. “Maybe you should come around more often.”

“Yes.” I swallowed deeply. “I should. I will.”

He grunted. “Promises. Don’t make ones you can’t keep.”

“I won’t. I don’t.” Which was why I never made any, unless I was absolutely certain I would never break them.

My father finished off his piece, then shoved the remaining heel of bread in his pocket, nearly ripping it from my mouth. He’d gone halfway down the hall before he came back and set it on my napkin. I stared at it as if the thing might bite. “You need to eat,” he said gruffly before he stomped off and shut the front door behind him.

“He loves you.”

“Not so sure about that.” But I tore into the bread just the same. “You clearly thought he must be serious about the paddling, which is why you sent him away.”

“No, I knew you’d never tell me about the girl if he didn’t leave.”

I choked on the bread and a chunk of it splattered in the remnants of my stew. Precious few bits were left, mostly just detestable carrots. “Girl? What girl? I don’t see any girl.”

My mum cocked a brow and dug into her own stew. “You were always a rubbish liar.”

“It’s not a lie. I don’t see a girl here, do you?”

“Rory Michael.”

I fished out the piece of bread, dunking it more thoroughly before I chewed and swallowed. “How did you know?”

“Because you came home,” she said simply.

“Is there anything to drink?”

“Milk on the door as always.”

I ducked my head, a little embarrassed she still thought I preferred milk over any other drink. Mostly because it was true.

No wonder I’d fallen for my dairy queen.

I retrieved the glass bottle of milk and got down a glass, filling it to the brim. Then I returned to the table and took out my phone.

It contained two things that preyed on my mind. One, the voicemail I still hadn’t listened to. And…this.

I scrolled through my picture app and found the right one. In it, Ivy was laughing at something Maggie and Zoe had said. I’d taken it right before we’d played Nickelback’s “Animals” on stage. She was so beautiful I’d just had to save the moment. To have tangible proof she’d existed in my life. With one glimpse, I could hear her laughter and carry it with me as if I’d never left.

“This is Ivy.” I pushed the phone across the table.

My mum picked it up and sighed. “Oh, she’s lovely, isn’t she? Irish? She must be, with that coloring.”

“She’s never said. Her last name is Beck.”