My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

I moved to the window and pushed aside the drapes to peer out like a proper creeper. Instead of Kinleigh’s truck idling at the curb before heading off into the night, it was parked in the driveway. And Ivy and Kinleigh were shambling up the walk as if they were drunk.

My sister was nursing. Had she imbibed too? And one of them had driven home.

I charged to the door and yanked it open with enough force that Ivy leaped back. She would’ve stumbled off the top step if Kinleigh hadn’t caught her—and giggled as if it was the most amusing thing ever.

One of them was drunk for certain.

“Ivy Beck, if you’re drunk right now, we’re having words.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “It’s Ivy Beck Ferguson, cretin. And if I am, so what?” She got in my face—well, as much as she could considering her petite stature—and growled. “What are you going to do about it? Huh? Huh?”

There wasn’t so much as a hint of alcohol on her breath. Just the scent of many, many spices. I waved a hand between us and she flipped me off before marching to her side of the duplex, tugging Kinleigh along as if she was as capable of independent thought as Rhiannon.

Possibly less.

“C’mon, Kin, we aren’t talking to him right now.”

“We aren’t?” Kinleigh glanced back. “How come? He’s kinda cute when he’s clueless.”

I started to grin until the rest of that sank in. “So sue me if I worry about yo

u, Ivy.”

“I worry about you too, you know, and I don’t see you filling me in on squat. Kinleigh, let’s go.” She opened the door to her side of the duplex and yanked Kinleigh inside before slamming the door shut.

I crossed my arms and waited.

A moment later, she popped her head out. “I want my daughter back.”

“Are you sure you’re lucid enough to care for her?”

“I haven’t had a drop to drink. Do you honestly think I’d drive Kinleigh’s death trap home if I had?”

From inside, I heard Kinleigh call out a protest.

“It’s my duty to watch out for you.”

“Yeah, uh huh, fine, but who’s watching out for you?”

That made me frown. “I don’t need anyone watching out for me.”

“Why, because you have a rashy, warty penis?” she asked in an undertone, breezing past me into my side of the duplex before I could even begin to unpack what she’d just said.

And the implications of her even implying such.

“What did Kinleigh say to you?” I demanded, following Ivy inside to where she was comforting her now wailing daughter.

It took everything I possessed not to detour to the bathroom to verify everything looked as it should. I knew that it did, but at times like this, a man had to wonder.

“Why, nothing. Should she have?” Ivy pushed Rhiannon’s ginger curls away from her streaming eyes. “There, there, sweetie. Don’t worry. We’ll stay far away from the shouty mean man.”

“I am not mean. I am not shouty.”

Ivy glared at me. “You’re shouting right now.”

I was not. Was I?

“You inferred…inappropriate insinuations about things that are not for you to know.”