Craving Rose (The Aces' Sons 5)

“Whoa,” I replied, trying not to laugh. “No, twelve’s a pretty normal age to start having periods. And don’t take her to the doctor unless you want to embarrass the hell out of her.”

“She’s at the house and she won’t come out of the bathroom,” he said, curtly. “Pretty sure she’s already embarrassed.” His tone immediately put me on edge.

“Why don’t you go home, and I’ll run to the store and get her some supplies?” I offered, trying to calm him down a little.

“I got it,” he replied. “I just need to know what to get.”

“I don’t know without looking at the selection,” I replied, trying to imagine the store in my mind. The supplies I used weren’t necessarily what a twelve year old would need, and I didn’t want her ending up with some diaper-like pad that had her hating her life. “I can just run down—”

“Rose,” he snapped. “I said I got it. You know what, I can just call my ma.”

“Mack,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. What the hell was his problem? He called me for help, and was being an ass when I tried to give it. “Just get her regular pads,” I said finally. “Ones with wings. Unscented. Try and find some with colorful packaging.”

“Regular. Wings. Unscented. Pretty,” he repeated. “Thanks.”

He hung up without saying goodbye, and I forced myself to set my phone calmly on the countertop instead of tossing it across the room. It shouldn’t have been a big deal that he was short with me. People had bad moods. Intellectually, I knew that. But my stomach churned with anxiety, anyway.

Chapter 8

Mack

I leaned back in bed and finished my beer in one huge swallow. I didn’t bring the twelve-pack into my room like I wanted to, but I’d already made my way through four out of the six I’d set on my nightstand. Still wasn’t relaxed. Still didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do about my daughter, who’d barely looked in my direction during dinner because she was so damn embarrassed about something that shouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Still felt like shit about how I’d snapped at Rose.

I cracked open another bottle and set it on my chest, the glass cool against my skin. I was out of my fucking depth and I knew it. I’d been banking on Kara being able to talk to my mom about all the woman shit, periods and makeup and boys, ignoring the fact that my parents were out of state most of the year. Stupid, yeah, but how the fuck was I supposed to prepare for that shit? I’d had the sex talk with Kara when she was ten and came home spouting off bullshit she’d heard at school. Both of us had been uncomfortable as hell, but I hadn’t wanted her believing all the wrong shit kids her age pieced together from overheard conversations and crap on the internet.

Kara hadn’t wanted me tonight, and that burned. I took another drink of my beer and stared at the ceiling. She’d wanted to be anywhere but at home, talking to anyone but me, and I was pretty sure her tears had been more about asking me to get her supplies than the fact that she’d started her period. I didn’t know what to do. She’d always been my little sidekick. If she was hurt, she wanted her daddy. If she was happy, she wanted me. Hell, if she was pissed, she wanted to take it out on me. But this wasn’t something that she wanted me anywhere near, and that fucking killed me.

It meant things were changing, and I wasn’t fucking ready for that.

When Rose had offered to get Kara some stuff at the store, for a split second, I’d considered taking her up on it. Hell, it would’ve been easy to let Rose come in and save the day, with her no-nonsense attitude and knowledge of shit I had no idea about. But then I’d been pissed for even considering it, and irritated that she’d asked.

Rose was my woman, and I had a lot of fun with her. I was crazy for her, if I was being honest. But she wasn’t Kara’s mother, and never would be. I didn’t want her stepping into that role. There was no way in hell I’d ever give that kind of power to someone else, not after what we’d already been through.

I still felt like an asshole, though, for the way I’d handled things earlier in the day. I should’ve said thanks, but no thanks, and instead I’d snapped at her and hung up on her. Fuck. I’d be lucky if she even answered her phone when I called. Rose wasn’t exactly the forgiving type, not if her prank wars were anything to go by. I’d seen her refuse to talk to Tommy for an entire month once because he’d eaten the pizza she’d left in her parents’ fridge.