Craving Rose (The Aces' Sons 5)

“Not drivin’,” my dad replied.

“Of course not.” I leaned forward and gave him a hug. “Will’s giving me a ride.”

“Probably a good thing he’s taking Molly home,” my mom said in amusement.

“Amen,” I replied as I hugged her, too. “Are you coming over to help us paint at Lily’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” She glanced across the room. “It’s going to be fun dragging your Aunt Farrah’s hungover ass out of bed.”

“Good luck with that,” I replied, grinning at the sight of my aunt shaking her ass while my uncle laughed.

Thankfully, Mack had disappeared by the time I caught up with my brother and Molly outside, and the car ride to pick up Rebel at Trix and Cam’s was short. Will didn’t have time to grill me before we got there, and once Reb was in the car, I knew he wouldn’t. My niece was the sweetest person on the planet, and because she was so sweet, she didn’t really understand the whole don’t-repeat-this-conversation-or-you’ll-embarrass-your-aunt thing.

I practically bolted from the car when we got to my apartment with a thank you and a wave. Eventually, he was going to ask me why I’d been goofier than normal around Mack, but that wasn’t a problem for tonight. No, tonight was for reliving that kiss and figuring out what the hell I was going to do about it.

Chapter 4

Mack

The churning of my stomach woke me up, and I groaned as I rolled onto my back and stared at the cement ceiling. I’d slept at the club after Kara had done me the favor of asking to stay the night with Casper and Farrah’s daughter Charlie. It was a good thing, too, because I’d needed almost an entire bottle of tequila to erase the taste of Rose from my mouth.

I probably shouldn’t have kissed her. Not like that. But when she’d stared at me, full of bravado with her lower lip quivering, I’d lost all sense of reason. She was gorgeous—a fact that had been harder to ignore lately—and she’d been giving me shit, even though I could tell she was really upset. The combination had been hard to resist.

I had a thing for strong women. Mouthy ones. The women who didn’t know when to stop. My mother was that way. My dad always said she didn’t know when to say when. Kara’s mother had been that way, too, before Kara. I hated thinking about the personality change that had happened after our daughter was born. The way I’d listened when people called it the baby blues, and said it would fade away. How I’d picked up the slack when she couldn’t, thinking I was doing the right thing, instead of getting her the help she’d needed.

Doctors knew a whole lot more about that shit nowadays. They didn’t ignore it when a mama spent hours thinking of all the things that could go wrong, fearful to drive or cook or bathe their own babies. They didn’t let it go on forever, until those mothers killed themselves in some misguided attempt to keep their families safe.

I shook off the memories and pushed myself up. No use reliving the past. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now, no way to go back and change things. I’d keep the knowledge tucked away until it was time for Kara to have babies, so I’d know what to watch for, but until then, thinking about wasn’t good for anyone. I’d fallen into my own pit for a while after we lost Mia, and I’d never go to that place again. Kara deserved better.

“Yo,” Will called, banging on my door. “You up, brother? Church in five.”

“I’ll be right out,” I called back, wincing as my own voice made my head pound.

I pulled on some fresh clothes in a hurry and headed to the main room of the club for some coffee before heading into the war room. I’d only had a seat at the table for a couple years now, even though I’d been a member since before Kara was born. I’d been busy proving myself in the beginning, and then I’d had so much shit on my plate when I’d lost Mia that the boys had known I’d be no use to them. They’d let me come into work bleary eyed and pass up parties for movie nights with Kara, and they’d slapped me on the back and asked if I needed anything almost daily.

By the time I had a grip on my new reality of single parenting, old Samson’s wife had gotten sick, and he’d chosen to give up his spot to take care of her. I was voted into the man’s seat, and the rest was history.

“All here?” Grease asked, leaning back in his chair. He looked almost as bad as I felt.

As soon as Dragon smacked the gavel on the table, Casper started speaking.