Page 6 of New Year's Day

“Because we can’t fuck around in the house behind closed doors forever,” I say with a faint snicker.

Summer lightly slaps my chest. “You’re bad.”

I dip my head, my lips right at her ear. “You love it.”

A sigh escapes her just before I kiss her. “I do.”

THREE

CREW

“Champagne, son? Really?”I stare at the top of my oldest son’s head, which is currently bent downward. Rowan can’t face me and I understand why.

He’s sipping on champagne snagged for him by his fifteen-year-old shitty cousin.

Okay, August isn’t shitty but he’s so like his father it’s not even funny. Which means he’s…

Damn it, he’s a little shitty.

“August said it would be fun,” Row says to the floor. “But I thought it tasted awful.”

Good,is what I want to say, but I restrain myself.

“Do you believe everything that August tells you?” When it comes to my children, I try my best to have patience. Sometimes, I get angry. I am definitely the bad guy in the parental situation and Wren is almost always the good guy. Which I have no problem with, though it’s hard for me to be tough on my daughter.

Willow just has to look at me with those big beautiful eyes of hers, her lips forming into a pout and I’m a goner. I’d probably let her get away with murder and take the fall for it. She’s got me wrapped tight around her finger.

But Rowan? I rarely have to discipline him. He’s a pretty good kid. Both of my boys are.

This is all August’s fault.

“I won’t ever do it again.” Row lifts his head, his glassy gaze meeting mine and I realize he’s this close to bursting into tears. And we can’t have that. Not tonight, when we’re celebrating New Year’s Eve. “I’m sorry.”

“Come here,” I say, my voice rough as I pull him into my arms and give him a quick hug. He springs away from me fast, glancing around. Probably doesn’t want to get caught being comforted by his dad in front of August. “Don’t do it again.”

“Do what?” Row frowns.

“Drink alcohol. You’re ten years old for Christ’s sake.” I shake my head, rubbing the side of my jaw with my hand. “At least wait until you’re in high school.”

Row frowns. “Did you drink alcohol when you were in high school?”

This being a parent thing is tricky business.

“Sometimes,” I hedge.

“Oh.” Row nods, watching the rest of his cousins at the buffet table laden with food. His eyes are full of longing, and knowing my child, he’s starving.

He always is.

“Go get something to eat,” I tell him and he doesn’t even look back.

No, Row dashes off, standing with the rest of his cousins who are all younger than him save for his sister, Iris and August. Rowan just wants them to accept him but he’s considered younger and therefore, they’re dismissive of him all the time.

It’s frustrating for him. That’s why he’s drinking champagne when he’s ten. He’s just trying to keep up.

Shaking my head, I’m about to march over to Whit and let him know my real feelings about his son when I feel a gentle hand land on my arm, keeping me from moving.

“Did you punish him?”

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