Page 15 of The Daddy Claus

Rome shrugs, sipping his water. He doesn't seem any more thrilled about the asshole serving our girls than Atlas is. In fact, he's the one who firmly suggested to our waitress that she swap tables with the fucker.

She shot him down.

So did the manager when we called him over.

Bastard.

"We should just join them," I growl, eyes narrowed as Hollie smiles at their waiter. The one time she looked in my direction, she scowled at me. I want her smiles, goddammit. They're supposed to be mine.

"Fuck no. I'm not sleeping on the couch tonight," Atlas mutters.

"Me neither."

I drag my gaze away from my little princess to look at my brother and future brother-in-law. "Why the fuck would either of you sleep on the couch?"

"We're under orders to keep you away from their table." Roman eyes me sideways, a disgruntled look on his face. "You really need to get your shit together. I could be having dinner with my wife right now instead of with the two of you. I like her better."

"I didn't ask to have dinner with either of you. Gabbi forced me."

"It's an intervention." Atlas shrugs. "We're supposed to tell you to get your shit together."

"Jesus Christ." I wave our waitress over. I need alcohol for this.

She's at our table inside of five seconds. I order whiskey. Atlas sticks to water. Thanks to the back-to-back concussions he suffered a few weeks ago, alcohol is off the table for him for a while. So is hockey, for that matter. He's out for the rest of the season and weighing whether he intends to return at all. Roman switches to beer.

"Let's get this over with," I mutter once she leaves with our drink order. "What, exactly, does Gabbi expect the two of you to do?"

"Talk you down," Rome says. "She says you're spiraling."

"I'm not spiraling."

"The guys have a pool going, trying to guess who you threaten to trade first." Atlas leans back in his chair, smirking. "You're definitely spiraling."

"What's the deal?"

"There is no deal. I fucked up. I'm trying to fix it."

"Stop trying. Start doing." Roman smirks at me. "Isn't that the shit you used to tell me?"

I discreetly flip him off.

"What'd you do?"

Rome and I both look at Atlas.

"You said you fucked up. What'd you do?"

"It's a long story."

Atlas nods at the girls' table. "Does it look like they're going to be done anytime soon? We got time."

The asshole waiter has moved on. They're deep in conversation about something. Judging from the way they're giggling and shooting furtive glances in our direction, they're talking about us. Hollie seems happy, though. Happier than she has in a while.

Because I'm not hovering? Because she's with Gabbi? I don't know, but I want to be the one putting that smile on her face. I'm supposed to be the one she leans on, the one who lightens her load. One way or another, I'm going to find a way to show her that I am that man.

I'm going to prove that I can be the daddy she deserves. I don't need my brother and Atlas to tell me how to do that. They don't know her like I do. It's up to me to figure this one out.

* * *

---