Page 88 of A Major Puck Up

“Aw, Millie.” My father suddenly materializes by my side and squeezes my shoulder. “Look at you. You were always so good with babies.”

I tip my head back and smile up at him, happy he’s interrupted grumpy Gavin. “Thanks, Daddy. She’s adorable.”

“Want to help me with the margarita? I got the ingredients.” Lake motions toward the bar.

“Sure, Viv and I will help out.”

“Vivi.” This time the sound that leaves Gavin’s mouth is a full-blown growl.

I shrug and focus on Vivi. “Maybe. But I think she likes when her bestie Millie calls her Viv.”

As if in confirmation, Vivi presses a chubby palm against my cheek and squeezes. Her sharp nails dig in a little painfully. Even so, I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of me.

With one more grin at Gavin, I follow Lake out of the room, knowing full well that Gavin is tracking my every move. Maybe it’s a bit devious and calculated that I’ve stolen his daughter to keep his attention on me, but now that I know Gavin is still single, I don’t plan to go easy on him.

I will get Gavin back, and my new bestie, Vivi, is going to help me do it.

THIRTY

GAVIN

What the fuck is Millie doing here, smiling at me like she didn’t break me months ago? And what the hell is she doing holding my child and cooing at her like she’s enamored and acting like she didn’t force me to walk away because she didn’t want a child with me?

And how the hell does she know Vivi’s not mine?

Shouldn’t she be angry? The Millie I know would be throwing a hissy fit, demanding to know who I slept with and when.

Jealous that I’d have the audacity to touch another woman.

I didn’t, of course, but she doesn’t know that.

No. She’s already figured out that I couldn’t possibly be Vivi’s dad. Fuck. I need to get her away from Vivi before she ruins everything.

“Don’t worry. Millie is great with kids.” Ford eyes me, his content expression falling a little. “You doing okay?”

I don’t even know how to answer that. Before I arrived, I’d have said sure. Obviously, that would have been a lie, since who the fuck is really okay on any given day while parenting a six-month-old? Especially since I became a dad overnight and have absolutely no idea what the fuck I’m doing.

But now? With Millie less than ten feet away, shocking the shit out of me with her reappearance and acting all…friendly? Yeah, I’m nowhere near okay.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and study the screen like I’ve just received a text. “Give me a sec. I need to check this.”

He nods, and then he’s heading out of the room, his focus fixed on his little girl and mine.

Me: I need one of you to call me with an emergency.

Aiden: Okay. What kind?

Me: I don’t care. Make something up!

Aiden: I need better acting directions than that. What is my motivation? Am I constipated? Did Jill and I have a fight? Does it have to do with the way my wrist has been hurting since the game the other night?

Brooks: Dude, is this two truths and a lie? If so, you def aren’t constipated.

Beckett: What did Jill do now?

Brooks: Seriously, dump her.

Aiden: It was actually three truths. I need Miralax. Beckett, can I come over? I need someone to talk me through this.

---