Page 72 of Just You & Me

"Layla, be good for the guys tonight. Please?" Rylee watches as her daughter completely ignores her. "I love you, Bug."

When Layla passes Marc and me, we see her roll her eyes. Marc stiffens. "Layla," he snaps. It's not a yell nor a shout, but it's stern enough that the little miss pauses. She seems confused as to why one of us would ever be upset with her. "You do not ignore your mother, and you don't roll your eyes. Mommy told you she loves you. What do you say?"

Clutching her backpack to her chest, Layla's bottom lip trembles. Still, she turns around and says, "Love you, Mommy." Turning quickly, she almost runs into Marc where he kneeled when she wasn't looking.

"You are done ignoring Rylee, you hear me? I know you are mad and sad, and all the scary things are overwhelming, but she is the best mom you could ever ask for." He tucks a wayward curl behind her ear. "I love you, Layla. I'll tell you the same thing I told your mom. No matter where you go next, you will always have me, okay?"

The little one nods, trying hard to jut her chin up in determination. "Love you too, Marc," she whispers and swipes a tear off her cheek.

Giving her a swift hug, he kisses the top of her head. "Go give Mommy a hug. She misses you and loves you very much." Layla does as she's told.

I curl myself into Marcus' side, feeling amazed and a little turned on. We watch as Rylee clutches her daughter to her chest. With watery eyes, she mouths the words 'thank you' in our direction. We have all seen how much it affects Rylee when her Bug shuts her out, and I'm so damn glad one of us finally did something about it. It's obvious our woman is feeling lost and uncertain about where to go with their struggles, since she's doing what she knows is best for them.

Fuck.I just really need them to stay.

Rounds of kisses begin with some hushed compliments on how sexy she looks. Especially with her stomach showing. I admit I eavesdropped when JJ spoke to her, since he seemed to fight against telling her to go change. What he said had me blushing a fiery shade of red and shuffling out to the car uncomfortably. Little Layla and all her questions got my mind out of the gutter really damn fast, though.

Halfway home with Layla strapped into her car seat, Tate calls, his voice moving through the speakers of the car.

"Hey, man. You following them, yeah?"

Tate responds to Jackson's clarification, "Hey. Yeah. They just hopped in the Uber. I'll keep an eye on them tonight. You just give my niece a kiss for me!"

Tate's family lost contact with Mason two days ago, so we’ve been ridiculously on edge. They assume the douchebag figured out Tate is involved and realized they sent him on a wild goose chase. What's even worse is they can't figure out his location. It's far-fetched to think Mason actually figured out Rylee's location since he hasn't been able to for an entire year, but Tate guarding the girls tonight is a good call.

"Oh! Uncle Tate!" The little miss stares at the dashboard with love and happiness at hearing her uncle’s voice.

"Hi, sweetie! You be good for your guys tonight, okay?" She nods her head even though he can't see her. In the rearview mirror, JJ catches my eye with a small smile. "Yeah! We are going to have so much fun. I promise I'll be good for my guys!"

My heart swells at the five-year-old claiming me. I feel like she's my little girl at this point, and I can't stand the idea that this might be the only night we get to spend eating garbage and making forts with her.

"Good! Love you, Layla. For always."

"For always, Uncle Tate!"

Tate chuckles down the line and promises to keep us updated before hanging up. I settle into the next tale Layla spins beside me, feeling at ease knowing Tate is keeping an eye on Rylee and Gabby.

They deserve a night out, and I'm going to soak up all the Layla time I can get.

* * *

What makes babysitting easier is knowing that the kid you're watching will eat literally anything. Jude had her eating a new cheese he found at the store. Marc encouraged her to try brussel sprouts, which she gobbled up, much to my disgust. It was fucking hilarious watching Jackson go green.

I don't know much about children, none of us do, but I think we are all feeling pretty proud as she polishes off the last of her cheesecake. Layla ate damn well tonight. It was honestly a meal fit for a fancy date, and I'm not quite sure why we chose to feed a five-year-old any of this, but she loved it.

"Do not drool on me, Missy," Jackson scolds when her eyes droop. Snuggled in his lap with Marc and Jude leaning against him, I watch as she giggles and trails her fingers over JJ's tattoo.

On his forearm is a set of fallen angel wings. Layla traces the feathers in awe, but when her eyes pop open, my stomach twists, knowing what she found.

"What are the bumps?" Sitting straight, she pulls his arm closer to her and stares down at his scars.

Jackson gulps, and I think for a moment he doesn't know how to tell a child about the abuse he endured in foster care. How his foster dad used to put cigarettes out on little JJ’s arm. Yet, he surprises us with the gentle truth. "They are scars from when I was little."

"How did you get them?" Layla doesn't seem upset, but her eyes are furrowed in concern. Looking back at the large man holding her, she asks, "Do they hurt?"

JJ shakes his head. "No, they don't hurt anymore. You see, I don't have a mom and dad. I would jump between houses and had different adults take care of me. Some weren't very nice."

She gasps, pain etched into her features, making Jude and Marcus sit up as well. "Oh, did they hurt you?"

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