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she can. Kids will be kids, man. Our job is to just try and keep them safe from themselves, but we can’t control the rest of the world.”

“But what if the next thing that happens is even worse?” I ask.

“You’re right. Something worse could happen to your kids,” Malcolm agrees. “It sucks, but that paranoia and worry is called being a good fucking father.”

After that explanation, I shut up and start reading because it seems too good to be true. Maybe I should pinch myself to make sure this isn’t some sort of bizarre dream. But nope, on the last page of each of the two agreements is Giselle and Katrina’s signature. They’ve agreed to let me see Asher and Sierra one day a week for as long as I want, even overnight; and in exchange, it says I’ll pay them both forty percent of my wages.

“How much is forty percent of what we make?” I ask Devlin.

“About four-hundred dollars,” he answers. “So, it’s less than what you’ve been busting your ass to give them.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” I ask.

“Because Joanna told us,” Nash replies.

“Why have you…never mind,” I say after remembering that she’s his sister and he can talk to her whenever the hell he wants.

“Joanna not only helped us find the attorney, but she also convinced the two women to sign the agreement,” Nash tells me.

“Why the hell would she do that?” I ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” I huff. “No, dickhead, it’s not obvious.”

Some of the guys chuckle at that and then look back down at the paperwork. “What? Why is everyone here to talk about my business?”

“Because part of the agreement is that one of us will be with you when you have your kids over,” Malcolm says, which is a huge relief. He holds up his hand and says, “Not because you need supervision, but I know how hard it is to keep up with one little rug rat. Two of them can get into a lot of trouble together.”

“You all would really do that?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” Nash agrees. “Unless you would rather have Joanna there with you?”

For a second, I think fuck yes, but then reality hits me and I shake my head. “No, she’s too good for me. It would never work between us.”

“Hell, man,” Silas starts. “Cora is way too good for me. Same for all these other assholes and their old ladies.”

“Is that true?” I ask the other men at the table. “Do you think your woman is too good for you?”

“Yes,” they all agree.

“Told you so,” Silas says. “That’s just called getting lucky, motherfucker.”

Everyone laughs at that and even I smile.

“Now that you’ve got your kids back, what’s your plan to get your girl back?” Nash asks me.

“I have no fucking idea.”

“Then we’ll help you figure it out, because Joanna misses you like crazy, for some strange reason,” he says with a grin.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Joanna

There’s a knock on my front door when I’m sorting laundry on the bed Sunday morning, and then Ace starts barking before he takes off to the living room, making me break into a smile.

He’s been moving better and better each day as he gets used to one of his legs being in a cast. I wish Phillip could see how well he’s doing.

The thought makes me sad as I throw a robe over my pajamas and walk to the door to unlock it and open it.

“Phillip!” I exclaim in surprise when I see him on the other side of the glass, holding a colorful bouquet of flowers. He looks good, better than good in his usual leather cut and jeans with a white tee underneath.

“Can I come in?” he asks, making me realize that I’ve been staring at him for a long time.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I agree. “Get back, Ace, you know him,” I tell the dog before I unlock the glass door to let Phillip in.

“Hey, buddy.” He squats down to rub his head, and Ace gives his hand a happy lick. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“He is,” I agree.

“Good. Oh, these are for you,” he says, offering me the flowers as the door shuts behind him.

“They’re beautiful,” I reply with a smile as I bring them up to my nose to smell them. It’s a mixture of hot pink roses, orange lilies, yellow sunflowers, and some little purple flower I’ve never seen before. “Thank you, Phillip.”

“No, I came to thank you, for all the shit that you did with the attorney and with Giselle and, by some miracle, even Katrina.” He shakes his head and adds, “I’m not sure how you did it or why, but I’m really glad you did.”

“Oh, Phillip. It was the least I could do. I’m so sorry about what happened with Asher and Ace.”

“It wasn’t your fault or Ace’s,” he says, crouching down to scratch the dog’s ears again. “I’m sorry you got upset, buddy. Can you forgive me for being mad at you?”

Ace licks up the side of his face, as much as he can reach.

“See, all is forgiven,” I tell Phillip.

“Is it?” he asks, still rubbing the dog while looking up at me with big, brown eyes.

“Of course. Dogs don’t know how to hold a grudge.”

“What about with us? Is all forgiven there too?” he asks as he stands up to his usual towering height above me again.

“I really hope so,” I answer softly.

“Me too,” he agrees. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do, like I’m smarter, funnier and better than I ever thought I could be. I love you, Joanna, and I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“I love you too, Phillip,” I reply with a smile.

Reaching for my face, he cups half of it in his big hand. “Have I told you how much I love that you use my real name and not the fuck-up name?”

“Phillip?” I whisper.

“Yes, angel?”

“Just kiss me already.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees with a grin before he finally leans

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