Colson (The Henchmen MC 20)

"Did you go dancing?" he asked.

"Oh! She tore up the dance floor. Have you ever seen your girl back her ass up? I'm straight and I wanted to smack that ass around a bit."

"You didn't drive, did you?" Colson asked, brows furrowing.

"Daddy Reign came to pick us up!" Gus declared, beaming at the idea. "I was trying to get a hold of West, and he answered. Felt pretty important to get the president to be our desig—designat—"

"Designated," Reign supplied, coming in behind us, smiling.

"Yeah, that word. Hey, do you have any macaroni and cheese?" Gus asked, pushing past Colson to go into his kitchen.

"I feel like a teenager who went out and partied and their parents found out and dragged them home," I said, slow-blinking up at Reign.

"Thanks for driving her home," Colson said, sharing a knowing smile with Reign.

"Knew you were here with her mom and Jelly. Had nothing else going on."

"How's Jacob?" Colson asked.

"Oh!" I said, slapping my hand into Reign's chest. "Jacob. My son. He can't see me like this," I added in a hushed whisper to Reign. There was a loud chorus of clanging sounds and cursing in the kitchen. "Oh, I should help," I declared, moving to walk past Colson who snagged me and tucked me under his arm instead.

"Think one drunk woman in the kitchen is enough, babe."

"Jacob's fine. Brooks is enjoying having him around some nights to give him a break from all the cleaning." There was more slamming noises in the kitchen, making Reign wince. "I better go get that one home to her man before she burns your place down," Reign said, moving into the kitchen. When he came back out, Gus was thrown over his once-bad shoulder, her arms thrown wide.

"Weee!" she cheered as Reign carried her through to the foyer. "See you at church tomorrow, Colson. Eva, babe, your shoe is missing."

"Oh no!" I gasped, looking down at my foot. "Those were my good ballet flats."

"Babe, you superglued the sole on before you left," Colson reminded me, trying to steer me toward the living room. "It's not exactly a loss."

"Hey, wait! Mac and cheese sounds good," I told him, angling my head up, giving him my best pouty face.

"Then I guess we have to get you some mac and cheese," he agreed, leading me into the kitchen, hopping me up on the counter while he cleaned up Gus's mess before starting to make food.

"Hey, Dad, what's all that—oh," Jelena said, giving me a smile.

"Jelly!" I gushed, holding my arms out to her. She shot her father a curious look before walking to me. "You are so beautiful. Do you know that?" I asked, framing her face with my hands. "I didn't believe that when I was your age. But you need to believe that, okay? It's very important."

"Okay," she agreed, looking over at Colson. "Is she drunk?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Oh. You shouldn't be seeing me like this," I declared, grimacing. "Drinking is bad. Very bad. The devil's juice. I feel absolutely terrible," I told her, voice grave.

"Really?" she asked, smiling.

"No," I told her, whispering. "Not really. I feel a-mazing. But don't tell your dad I said that."

"I'm standing right here, babe," Colson said, smiling. "And you aren't actually whispering. "It's fine, by the way. Jelly's seen drunk adults before."

"Have you ever seen your dad drunk?" I asked.

"No. He doesn't drink much."

"We should get him drunk. I want to see you drunk," I told him. "It's only fair now that you've seen me drunk."

"Not gonna happen, babe."

"He also refuses to do funny videos with me."

"Ew. Killjoy," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I know, right?"

"You two ever gonna stop ganging up on me?" Colson asked, putting the pasta in the pot.

"Nope," we both said at the same time.

"Didn't think so. Jelly, it's getting late, baby girl," he said, jerking his chin toward the stairs.

"Fiiiiine," Jelly said, giving me a smile before heading up to bed.

"I love Jelly," I declared, nodding.

"I'm happy to hear that. She loves you too."

"I know. She told me," I said, lips curving up.

"She did?" he asked, turning back, gaze thoughtful. "When?"

"Two weeks ago. When we went out to lunch after ballet class. She told me when we got back into the car."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. And I didn't. I guess maybe a part of me was worried he would think it was inappropriate for her to think that so soon, that maybe he didn't want her thinking or saying things like that to me.

As a whole, I was confident with the direction things were going with Colson, but there was always this insecure, niggling little voice in the back of my head that whispered ugly things about things not working out, about him finally realizing he could do better, that I was not the influence he wanted on his daughter after all.