“What was that for?”
“Because I felt like kissing you.”
She opened her eyes and smiled up at me.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Speakin’ of beautiful …” She tilted her head to the side. “Why were Beau and Georgie fightin’ earlier?”
“He took her phone; she retaliated.”
“That lad constantly tries to find ways to annoy ‘er.”
“He loves her ... loves to piss her off, too.”
Bronagh chuckled as I kissed her cheek and left the room. I glanced over the stair rail and saw Alex and Joey descending the stairs with my daughter nowhere in sight. I made my way to her bedroom, and when I entered the room, I froze in the doorway.
“What the hell are you wearing, Georgie Slater?”
She spun to face me, and when I saw her bare stomach, my heart stopped.
“Ye’ were right ab-about it bein’ hot out,” she stammered. “I was just changin’ into somethin’ ... cooler.”
“Cooler?” I blinked. “You’re naked.”
“Da, please.” She frowned. “I’m not naked. It’s a crop top and a skirt.”
Two things she had never worn before. Ever.
“Naked,” I repeated. “You aren’t leaving the house in that. If you lean forward, your ass will be out for the world to see.”
I ran from her room to mine, grabbed a T-shirt that I made as a joke the year before, and rushed back to my daughter’s room. I pushed it at her and waited outside as she changed into it. When I heard her screech, I felt deeply satisfied with myself.
“Daddy!”
“Don’t ‘daddy’ me,” I warned as I re-entered the room. “If you won’t dress yourself correctly, then I’ll do it for you.”
My child almost snarled at me. “This will put me at the top of the loser list, Da! No lad will ever look in me direction if ye’ make me wear this!”
Fireworks went off in my mind at her words.
“You’re never taking it off.”
Georgie stomped her foot on the ground and turned her back to me. She opened her mouth and shouted, “Ma!”
I listened for Bronagh and smiled when I heard her walk towards our daughter’s room humming a song.
“What is it, Georgie?”
“Da is ruinin’ me entire life, and he’s happy about it.”
I was very happy about it.
Bronagh entered the room on a tired sigh, but when her gorgeous eyes fell to the T-shirt Georgie had on, she laughed with glee. Our less than impressed teenager screeched. “It’s not funny! I’ll be slagged to the high heavens if I have to wear this, Ma.”
Bronagh folded her arms over her chest. “I thought ye’ didn’t care what people thought of ye’?”
Georgie shifted her stance. “I don’t.”
My wife raised a brow. “Then what’s the problem?”
Georgie pointed at her shirt and read the words printed in black.
“This is my dad. He will do to you what you do to me. It’s even worse with the stupid picture of Da without his shirt on under the writin’.”
“That’s a nice picture.” I frowned. “Don’t be mean.”
She refused to look at me. Instead, she focused on Bronagh. “I’d sooner walk around school in me bra in front of every lad in sixth year than wear this T-shirt, Ma.”
My child just described an actual nightmare of mine.
“Do you want me to have your cousins flank you all day at school on Monday?” I growled. “Because I’ll call them right now and arrange it.”
My stubborn child scoffed. “Go for it.”
She challenged me, and she was old enough to know never to do that.
“Fine,” I said and took out my phone.
“Fine,” Georgie quipped.
I dialled Jax’s number and placed my phone to my ear.
“What’s up, unc?” he answered on the third ring.
“I need a favour, kid.”
I heard a female giggle, then a pained groaned from my nephew. “I’m kind of busy, unc. Can this wait?”
I shook my head as a grin crept its way onto my face.
“It’s about Georgie.”
I heard Jax instantly hush who was giggling.
“Is she okay?” he asked, his focus fully on our conversation and not the girl he was with.
“She is,” I said then growled, “but she is threatening to wear just her bra to school come Monday.”
“She is threatenin’ to what?” Jax all but roared. “Is she there with ye’?”
“She is.”
“Put ‘er on the phone,” he demanded. “Now.”
He was Kane’s kid; there was no doubt about it. I tapped my phone on Georgie’s shoulder and held it out to her when she turned to me. She looked at the phone for a moment, and I saw her tough girl act begin to crack. She covered up her near slip, took the phone, and pressed it to her ear.
“What d’ye want, Jax?” she asked, though her tone wasn’t as stern as before.
I looked at Bronagh when Jax’s voice bellowed through the receiver of my phone. She grinned, and I shook my head. She was enjoying this just as much as I was.
“No!” Georgie suddenly bellowed. “If ye’ do that, I’ll make sure Daisy Mars never looks at ye’ again.” She gasped at Jax’s response. “Ye’ wouldn’t dare, Jax Slater.”