American library books » Other » Fiasco (Dirty Aces MC Book 6) by Lane Hart (black male authors .TXT) 📕

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come with me Sunday?”

“Sunday?” I repeat.

“I want you to meet Sierra and Asher.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he says, finally pulling back to look down at me.

“I love kids,” I admit to him.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Most women wouldn’t want to date me because I have two kids with two different women.”

“Then most women are stupid,” I tell him with a smile.

Chapter Twenty

Fiasco

“I hope the women don’t give you any grief,” I tell Joanna as she drives us to the playground.

“Why would they?” she asks.

“That’s just how they are. Don’t take it personally if they do, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees.

God, she’s so easygoing no matter what, which is not something I’m used to from the women I sleep with. Most are demanding as shit, especially Katrina and Giselle, the mothers of my kids. They don’t make anything easy, and I always feel like it’s a huge burden on them to meet me every Sunday afternoon at two for an hour.

“I’m pretty fucking lucky they agree to give me one hour a week,” I grumble aloud.

I didn’t say that they only conceded that time because it’s when I bring them money. I’m not stupid, but I know it’s what Joanna is thinking too when she frowns while she watches the road.

“Would you like to see more of them?” she asks, stealing a quick glance at me.

“I’ve tried, but they won’t budge. Besides, they have their own lives. I can’t ask them to take more time out of it to babysit me with them.”

“You’re their father. They don’t need to babysit you with them, Phillip.”

“That’s not what they think.”

“Forget the mothers. Do you want more time with your son and daughter?” Joanna asks more sternly.

“Of course I do, but it’s a lost cause. Trust me, angel, I’ve tried.”

“I’m not promising anything, but maybe I could help you when you have them, not because you need my help, but because I would like to help.”

“Really?” I ask. “You haven’t even met them yet. You might think they’re annoying little brats.” I think they’re the sweetest two people to ever walk the earth, but I could be biased since they’re mine.

“I doubt that,” she says with a smile.

“Then, yes, I would like to have more time with them and with you.”

“So, if I have a chance today, would you let me try to talk to them for you?” Joanna asks.

She glances over, and I give her a smile before she looks back at the road. Needing to touch her, even though it’s only been a few minutes since the last time, I reach over and place my palm on her closest knee to give it a squeeze. “I would let you do anything you asked, angel.”

“Anything?” she repeats with her own teasing grin.

“Yep. Anything, even put a finger in my ass, and my ass is usually off limits to everyone.”

Joanna laughs out loud, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. And I know she’s not laughing at me like most people do. For some unknown reason, she actually thinks I’m funny.

“Your ass is safe from me. I promise.”

“I really love being with you, Joanna,” I tell her honestly and give her leg another squeeze. “You make me feel really damn good, like maybe I’m not a complete waste of space like everyone’s told me my whole life.”

“Oh, Phillip,” she says sadly, covering my hand on her leg and driving with one hand on the steering wheel. “That’s not true. You are a strong, kind, loyal, hardworking, handsome, and incredibly sexy man. Don’t let anyone let you think otherwise.”

And for the first time in my life, I start to think maybe she’s right and the rest of the world is wrong.

Joanna

When Fiasco and I pull up to the park on Sunday, I can immediately see his two children running around on the playground. Their blond hair is shining in the sunlight, the same way their father seems to always glow angelically. As we begin to cross the grass, the children come running over to greet us, both of them overjoyed at the sight of their dad.

Asher and Sierra stand still for about two seconds while Phillip introduces me to them, and then they’re off, running full out and screaming like a horde of zombies are chasing them as Phillip sprints behind the young pair.

I glance over at the bench where their mothers are sitting. Both of them are scrolling on their cell phones, intentionally not looking at me or Phillip. I guess this is the usual Sunday play date, since the kids and Fiasco seem unperturbed.

When I walk over, I tell them, “He’s really good with them, the kids.” They may be sitting on the same bench, but they are as far apart as they can get. I’m guessing they’re not exactly friends.

“Yeah, because he’s just a big kid himself,” the one on the right says with a grin. I believe Phillip said her name was Giselle. She’s tall and lean with long strawberry blonde hair that I think may be natural since she’s Sierra’s mother and they look so much alike. Her model-like beauty makes me feel a little insecure. At least she’s not dressed for the runway this afternoon. Instead, she’s wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a plain white t-shirt with sneakers.

“I’m glad to get a chance to meet you all,” I say in the silence that follows. “I don’t know how much Phillip told you about me…”

“Phillip?” the mother on the left says in confusion — Katrina, if I remember right. She’s shorter and curvier than Giselle and me both, almost on the overweight size with burgundy hair that can’t be natural curled in soft waves. She’s not as pretty as Giselle, but I’m guessing men wouldn’t care because of her other attributes spilling out of her V-neck top and filling out the back of her skinny jeans.

I point my finger at the man running around the swing set with his daughter now on his shoulders, chasing

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