“Yeah, smart ass, but you know which one.”
“But I don’t want to go,” she whined softly.
Thank fuck she didn’t add a Daisy-style stomp to that complaint. One obstinate Fury kid was enough for all of them. Cassie’s daughter was a handful, even for Judge to deal with.
Dodge cocked one eyebrow at Maya. “Yeah, well… You’re only nine, baby girl, so you don’t get to decide. Anyway, it’s gettin’ late and you got school tomorrow.”
Maya scrunched up her face. “But Whip can help me with my homework.”
“No, Whip ain’t helpin’ you with your homework. First off, you told me it was done already. Was that a lie?”
Maya tucked her bottom lip between her teeth.
Dodge squeezed her shoulder again, dropping his head until he caught her gaze. “You know you ain’t supposed to lie to us.”
“I’m almost done. Whip can help me with the rest.”
“No, he can’t. He’s gonna be busy with his friend. Autumn can help you when you get home.”
“But—”
Dodge raised a palm. “Nope. Stop right there. This ain’t a negotiation.” He dropped his voice an octave and ordered, “Go say goodnight to your mom and get your stuff. Sig ain’t gonna wanna wait. You know how he gets.”
Maya sighed dramatically.
“Not one more ‘but,’” Dodge warned her.
She sighed again, not so dramatically this time. “Fine. Wake me up when you get home.”
“Not gonna wake you up. We’ll see you in the mornin’.”
Maya stuck her tongue out at Dodge, then giggled.
He shook his head and pointed toward the stage, raising both eyebrows this time. “Go!”
Maya rolled her eyes and dashed toward the stage, her sneakers slapping along the floor as she went.
Since this had become a normal routine for Syn’s daughter, she knew enough to wait until her mother finished her song before saying goodnight.
Once Dodge finished watching her go, he turned away from the stage, closed his eyes and shook his head.
The man had never been a dad and now he was suddenly raising a nine-year-old. That had to be tough and Whip was glad it wasn’t him.
Did he like kids? They were all right. He liked them better when he didn’t have to deal with the drama. But if any of his brothers asked him to step up and do something for their kid, Whip wouldn’t hesitate. That was what being a part of a brotherhood and the Fury family was all about.
Dodge turned to Fallon and took his time checking her out from head to toe, then shot Whip a knowing look. Whip was surprised the man didn’t give him a thumbs up and a damn wink.
“Dodge, Fallon. Fallon, Dodge.”
“Nice to meet you, Dodge.” Amusement crinkled the corners of Fallon’s eyes.
“Same.” Dodge turned to Whip with a grin, “Figure you want a draft,” then asked Fallon, “What d’you want to drink?”
“I’ll take whatever local IPA you have on tap,” she answered.
The bar manager snorted. “Then you’re gonna get an empty glass. We got the most popular domestic beers on tap. You want somethin’ fancy you need to head over to the hotel bar. But they’re gonna charge you the cost of a kidney for that shit, too.”
“How about a vodka tonic?”
“Can manage that. Grab a table and I’ll get Woody to bring it over to you.” Dodge chuckled and whacked Whip on the shoulder before turning and heading back to the bar.
Whip scanned the area and spotted an empty table near the stage. He planted his hand on her back again and encouraged her to head over to it.
As they walked, her eyes weren’t on their destination but on the stage where Syn was talking to Maya. “What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“Maya’s wearing a vest similar to yours but in denim with patches on the back that says ‘Property of Dodge.’”
Yeah, that. Shit.
“Means she belongs to Dodge.”
“I don’t understand. It means she’s his daughter?”
Whip wasn’t sure how to answer that. Fallon seemed to be the type of woman who might take offense if he told her that the Fury women and children were property of the club. “Basically. Not biological but he’s steppin’ in as her dad.”
Fallon’s gaze sliced back to Dodge who had returned to working behind the bar, though his eyes were glued to that stage where his ol’ lady and Syn’s daughter were. He always kept a sharp eye on his new family.
For good reason.
Syn’s daughter only wore the denim cut while at the bar because Dodge was worried about it making Maya a target for the Shirleys if she wore it out around town.
When they reached the table, he pulled out a chair for Fallon, but she was still staring at the stage.
“Wait. The singer. That’s her mother? They look like sisters.”
“Yeah.” With their age difference they could be.
“She can’t be old enough to have a child that age.”
Whip didn’t want to touch that, either. How old Syn was when she had Maya wasn’t an outsider’s business.