Chaos series by Kristen Ashley

Obviously Hopper hadn’t told his kids I’d be there. I knew this because Molly was screeching and Cody was sitting on a bench at the side of the entry of the restaurant and considering me with some surprise. Hop was standing by him looking his usual amazing in faded jeans and boots. He had a black thermal henley under his cut and his hair was falling in his face.

All him, just him, no pretense.

However, he had shaved but he’d left a new patch of whiskers under his lip as he’d said he’d do.

It was a good addition.

I only had seconds to take all this in because Molly was racing to me with her usual Molly exuberance.

She skidded to a halt, her head tipped back, her long, gorgeous, wavy black hair wild and free, her gray eyes shining with little kid excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried then twisted toward her dad. “Dad, look! Miss Lanie’s here!”

“I see,” Hop murmured, moving toward us, and it crashed over me this sucked because I couldn’t touch him, kiss him, even smile at him like I wanted to smile.

Instead, I caught his eyes and greeted, “Hey, Hop.” I looked down to Molly. “How are you, sweetie?”

“Great!” she cried.

I grinned at her and looked to Cody. “Hey, Cody.”

“Yo!” he called, all mini-biker badass.

I smiled at him, my eyes slid to Hop and I thought, to hell with it.

I moved into him, wrapped my hand around the leather over his bicep and leaned in.

Brushing my lips against his cheek close to his ear, quick and low, I whispered a much different, “Hey.”

“Hey.” His return whisper was also quick, low, and rough.

I pulled back, caught his eyes, saw they were intent, warm and pleased, gave him a small smile then turned toward my parents.

“Mom, Dad, isn’t this fabulous?” I asked even though they were taking all this in, especially Hop. The blank masks on their faces didn’t quite hide their aversion to our present company. “This is a really good friend of mine, Hopper Kincaid.” I motioned to Hop. “And his kids, Molly and Cody.” I motioned to the kids.

“Hey!” Molly chirped, grinning big at Mom and Dad.

“How do you do,” Mom replied and, at her formal words uttered to an eleven-year-old, my head quickly turned to Hop whereupon I rolled my eyes before I turned back to Mom and Dad.

I did this hearing Cody’s repeated, “Yo!”

Dad’s mouth got tight before he forced it to smile at Molly then he looked to Hop.

Hop stuck out his hand. “Mr. Heron.”

“Yes,” Dad mumbled. “Good to meet you, erm… Hopper.”

Hop gripped Dad’s hand tight and let it go. “Hop.”

“I’m sorry?” Dad asked, taking a step he didn’t need to take away from Hop.

“Hop,” Hop repeated. “Friends call me Hop. Lanie’s a good friend, means her family are friends.” He smiled at Dad. “So call me Hop.”

“Right,” Dad murmured, then obviously forced out a mumbled, “Hop.”

Hopper ignored that, leaned into Mom and took her hand, saying, “Mizz Heron.”

“Well, um… of course, uh… pleased to meet you,” Mom stammered, uncomfortable and also moving back quickly after Hop released her.

We all stood there and I waited.

It didn’t happen.

This ticked me off so I did something about it.

“Just FYI,” I began. “Mom and Dad aren’t Mr. and Mrs. Heron. They’re Joellyn and Edward.”

Mom’s face was so hard I thought it would crack when she pushed her lips up into a smile. Dad jerked up his chin.

Ugh.

My eyes went back to Hop and I watched his eyelids go soft, a barely there movement but it eloquently stated he was good; he didn’t care my parents were how they were and I shouldn’t either.

So I decided not to.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands. “I know!” I looked to Hop. “Have you put your name in already?”

“Yeah, Lanie,” Hop replied, his lips twitching.

“Well, we’ll go to the hostess station and change it.” I looked to Mom and Dad. “Table for six!”

Dad’s face looked as if it had become carved in stone and Mom made a strangled noise but I just looked down at Molly.

“Would you like that?” I asked.

“Yeah!” she cried, jumping toward me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the hostess station.

I went but turned my head as I did so, asking Cody, “What about you, kiddo?”

“Cool,” he stated nonchalantly.

I threw him a smile, went to the hostess station and changed Hop’s table request to a six top. I got the bad news a bigger table was going to take ten minutes and headed back to the crew. Mom and Dad were clearly uncomfortable, but Hop was just Hop, hot and casual. Cody was swinging his legs, oblivious to everything.

“We’re in,” I announced. “But it’ll take ten minutes or so.”

“Bummer, I’m starved,” Cody muttered.

“You’ll live,” Hop rumbled, looking down at his son and smiling.

“I’ll do it starving,” Cody returned.

“But you’ll do it,” Hop retorted.

I grinned at them.

“So, how do you know our daughter?” Dad asked a question he was being purposefully obtuse in asking because he knew the answer and Hop’s eyes went to him.

“She’s Chaos,” he answered, and that warmth gathered around my heart again.

“I’m sorry?” Dad queried.

“Chaos. She’s Chaos. Her girl, Tyra, is married to a brother of mine,” Hop explained. “Known Tyra years, known Lanie years. Both of them are Chaos.”

“Right. Of course,” Dad said, sounding like he didn’t think it was right at all. “I had heard that Tyra had…” He trailed off then to me, “I haven’t asked yet. How are Tyra and her boys?”

He pointedly did not ask after Tack.

I ignored this. “She’s great. Over the moon happy. Tack’s good, too. The boys are good kids even though they’re hooligans.”

“They aren’t hooligans,” Cody contradicted and I looked down at him. “They’re awesome.” He looked at my dad. “They’re younger than me but I hang with them because they got good ideas.” He lifted his hand and tapped his fingertips to his head. “Genius.”