Page 48 of Claim Me

“Would you like me to make you a sandwich, Uncle Zoot?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at him. “I could get you a cold beer, too. Anything for you, sixth favorite uncle.”

Zoot’s smile disappears. “Sixth?”

Shrugging, Siobhan walks to the kitchen. “Caveman and all my uncles in the hills like my cooking. Uncle Noble does, too.”

“Ate every bite,” Noble says and takes his bowl to the sink.

“Dickhead,” Zoot growls at him.

“You’re always whining,” Noble replies and goes high-pitched with his imitation of Zoot. “Why is Indigo hiding? Does he like Caveman better than me? Wah, wah.”

“I never said any of that.”

“Not in so many words, but I’m an expert at reading between the lines.”

Zoot stops frowning at them and scowls at me. “Whywereyou hiding?”

“I thought I messed things up with Siobhan.”

Sighing, Zoot runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “Look, man, I’m aware my niece is a prime slice of meat,” Zoot says, trying to rile up Siobhan again. “But you can’t run away every time you piss off this woman. Just come to the clubhouse and we’ll conspire together about how to make her calm down.”

I know he’s poking at me, so I don’t react. Siobhan ignores him from her spot in the kitchen, where she informs Noble how she’ll become the best chef in the family.

“Even better than Carys?” Noble asks, and she rolls her eyes. “Even better than your aunt Dot?”

“I can make whatever they make. I’ll take cooking classes. I’ll blow your fucking socks off.”

“I like these noodles,” Scarecrow says and washes his dish. “Indigo doesn’t need fancy food.”

I grin at my club brother. “That’s true. I like what Siobhan cooks.”

Batting her eyes at me, Siobhan dances around the kitchen like she did earlier when she was only wearing an apron. My dick twitches at the memory. I nearly punch the damn thing to keep it lowkey while Zoot continues to eyeball me.

“It was really just because of her?” he asks me.

“I only want her, and I thought I lost her, so, yes.”

Zoot eyes me for a little longer, refusing to believe anyone could get that broken up over a woman. Shrugging, he asks, “Does Sync know you’re banging his baby mama?”

Siobhan stops dancing and wings a plastic spatula at Zoot. He grabs it midair and tosses it back.

“Elvis should have taught you to throw better.”

“He did, but then my boobs grew in and screwed up my throw.”

“This is why I didn’t have kids,” Zoot mutters. “Couldn’t risk having a daughter.” After a moment, Zoot adds, “I also didn’t want a son.”

Noble grins. “On behalf of the children you won’t create, thank you for saving them from having a garbage father.”

“I’d leave the kid in a closet,” Zoot says and nods. “Might feed it once a day.”

Siobhan gasps. “Why would you be so mean?”

“That’s what your grandfather did with us, and Noble and I turned out fine,” Zoot states and then adds with an evil glint in his brown eyes, “But Elvis turned out weird.”

Siobhan only smiles at Zoot. “I’m sorry you had terrible parents. I had wonderful ones. That’s why I have so much patience for your crap.”

“Uh-huh. Well, maybe we’ll stick around and watch a movie.”

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