Page 555 of Lodestar

“You got a tux?”

“From Aidan’s wedding.”

“It still fits?”

His smile was sheepish as he patted his beer gut. “Your ma’s food’s too good.”

“Get yourself to our tailor and tell him it’s urgent. Put it on my account.” I took a sip of my own milkshake, sighing at how good it tasted. “You remember where it is.”

“Can’t do that, son. It’d be cheeky.”

“So would flashing everyone at the gala if your buttons burst.”

He hooted. “Fair, fair. Okay, I’ll go today. Thank you, Conor.”

“My pleasure.” I angled my head at him. “Think about it, huh?”

“The ice hockey team?” He grimaced. “I mean, there’s a big difference between a suit and a whole team, Con. Don’t you reckon that’s a bit excessive?”

“We’re buying respectability and legitimacy, Paddy. It’s not like they come cheap.”

My godfather pondered that but he just said, “You look like you need to get some sleep. Want me to watch the kid while you nap?”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure. She’s playing with two cats, not knives. Even I can keep her from slicing herself up.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me? She’s my kid, Paddy.”

“I can tell. Watching you argue with her was like watching you argue with Lena when you were a boy. Your da wouldn’t get it.”

“Da was an asshole.”

“Blood or bust,” he agreed with a moue of distaste. “I ain’t my brother, Conor.”

“I know.”

“I was a shitty da, but not like he was. I didn’t make Liam do anything he didn’t want to do.”

“What went wrong then?”

“I was depressed a lot. You live in your family’s pocket as long as we do, being without them is hard. Pretending to be dead, existing without a real identity, it took its toll.

“Now, I ain’t explaining it away, ain’t saying I didn’t fuck up because I did. But I shouldn’t have had a kid with how my head was screwed on, but his ma insisted, and now, I’m glad she did because he’s a good man. A little lost since what went down, but who could blame him?”

“Don’t you think bringing him into the fold would help him find himself?”

“He’s not like us. He’s an only child. Not used to a big family. It might make him feel worse.”

“Or it could make him feel better.” I tipped my milkshake at him. “Don’t let her into the office unless Star’s here, and don’t let her play with the katanas in my living room?—”

“What the hell’s a katana?”

“A sword.”

“You got a sword in your apartment with a kid around?” he spluttered.

“It was a gift from Declan,” I mumbled. “It’s up high and locked in a glass case so she shouldn’t be able to reach it, but don’t fall asleep with her around. She’s worse than a magpie.”

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