Tiny Dancer Page 3

  “Some detective you must be.” Riordan rolled his eyes. “That’s my daughter, Macy.”

  “Riordan is the man who danced on stage with his daughter, Isla, Laurel’s friend,” Faulkner supplied.

  Ronan’s eyes widened. “You’re father of the year?”

  “What?” The last thing Riordan was, was father of the year. Three hours ago, he couldn’t find Isla’s tights and thanks to his negligence, Macy was drenched with the dregs of last night’s wine. If a man like Ronan O’Mara had met him then, he would have locked him up and called social services.

  “While we were watching you dance, I said to Ten that I only hoped I could be half the Dad you are.” He shook his head. “I’ve been two days without a shower, worn two different colored socks and when we didn’t have time to do our own laundry, I just turned a shirt Everly hadn’t spewed on inside out and wore it a second day. Shit, man, there you were on stage dancing every step like you choreographed it yourself.” Ronan turned to Tennyson. “Father goals!” Both men said at the same time.

  “Thanks, guys. It isn’t easy being a single father of two little girls.” Riordan looked embarrassed. “Some days I’m the one wearing my shirt for a second day or sleeping beside a pile of folded laundry because I was too exhausted to put it away before I collapsed into bed. I give them everything I have, so by the end of most days there isn’t a lot left for me.”

  Ronan set a hand on Riordan’s shoulder. “I recognized your name when you said it, but I didn’t want to pry.”

  Riordan nodded. As a cop he supposed a veteran detective like Ronan would keep up with whatever went on in his town. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Uncle Fuck didn’t seem to know what Ronan was talking about. He looked into Faulk’s kind eyes. “My husband, Stephen, was killed in a car accident a year ago by a man who ran a red light and T-boned the driver’s side of his car.”

  Faulkner’s mouth hung open. His icy eyes wore a look of pure devastation.

  “The girls and I were home. He and I were on the phone when…” Riordan shook his head. Today wasn’t a day for tears. “Isla stopped dancing after that day. I knew that if I didn’t do something to get her to reengage in life that I was going to lose her too. So, I signed her up for dance class like I’d done every year since she was two. She didn’t want to dance. She’d be like a little zombie when I’d get her dressed for class. Then, she’d sit on the sidelines and not join in. To be honest, I knew how she felt because I felt the same way. Nothing was the same without Stephen. I knew I needed to lead by example, so I took her spot in the class and learned how to dance. For the first five minutes, I felt totally ridiculous. The teacher had to come over and show me how to move my feet and hold my arms in position, but then a miracle happened.” A smile curled his lips. “Isla joined me at the bar. I could have cried with relief, but I had to finish what I started. Lead by example.” Riordan snorted. “I took her out for ice cream for dinner that night to celebrate us both rejoining the living.”

  There wasn’t a dry eye around him. “Father of the year!” Ten and Ronan reaffirmed.

  Riordan was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with all the attention. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to tell you my entire life story.” Shaking his head, he turned to Faulk. “Will you carry Macy to the car?”

  “Sure thing. She seems pretty attached to me.” Faulk looked down at the little girl who was asleep on his shoulder. Her left hand was resting on his cheek.

  “She’s probably going to wake up grumpy the second you move. Macy is a very light sleeper.”

  “Daddy says I sleep like a rock.” Isla grinned up at Faulkner. She reached up and took his free hand.

  “Me too!” Faulkner agreed.

  “We’ll see you at Carson’s house.” Riordan held up a hand to wave goodbye. He noticed Isla grinning up at Faulkner. How had both of his daughters fallen head over heals in love with the giant detective so quickly? Were they so starved for attention?

  Part of it, for Isla, was the roses. Riordan was sure of it. He’d have to ask Faulkner later how he’d known she liked pink roses so much. The man was a detective, maybe he just detected.

  What Riordan should be doing right now is not looking this gift horse in the mouth. Only God knew where his mother was at the moment. Without her, it would have been so much harder to get Isla away from Laurel even if it was just to drive to the party. Faulkner had been perfect at getting her away from her BFF without a fight.

  “I thought you said this little fairy girl was a light sleeper?” Faulkner’s words pulled Riordan out of his own head.

  Riordan looked up at his precious angel who was mouth-breathing and drooling on Faulk’s shoulder. Shit! Had she drunk some of his wine when she’d dumped it on herself? He started to laugh. Macy looked like she was sleeping off a bender. Or, she was just a tired little girl who found a cozy shoulder to sleep on. “Maybe you smell good.” He held the door open for Faulkner and the girls. Faulk turned his bulky body to the side so he could slide out the door without having to let go of Isla’s hand. Not a bad move for an amateur.

  “This is us over here. Silver SUV.” Riordan pointed. “Macy’s seat is on the driver’s side.

  “I’m on it,” Faulk whispered.

  He had to hand it to Faulkner, for a man with no kids of his own, he was knocking it out of the park. Isla had come with him to her side of the SUV, giving him a chance to watch Faulk with Macy. Riordan couldn’t help noticing the care with which Faulk got his daughter settled into her seat. He even brushed her hair out of her face before he started to buckle her in.

  “You may want to check how tight the straps are,” Faulk said when he met Riordan at the back of the car.

  Nodding Riordan rocked back on his heels, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Thanks. How did you learn to do that?”

  Faulk grinned. “When you’re a member of this family, you learn to do a lot of things. Cole’s brother, Carson, has three little ones about Macy’s age. Sometimes it helps having six arms to wrangle them.”

  “Uncle Fuck to the rescue, huh?” Riordan laughed at the blushing man.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry about that. When Laurel said that the first time it was funny. Then we realized she couldn’t say Faulk and calling me Faulkner was an even worse pronunciation.”

  Riordan burst out laughing. “Uncle Fucker?”

  Faulk laughed along with him. “No, worse, Uncle Fuck her. Cole figured she could call me Uncle in public and use my name in private, but obviously she told tiny dancer what she calls me. Please don’t punish her because I’m the worst uncle ever.”

  “You’re not the worst uncle ever, Faulk. Why the flowers?” Now that they were chatting alone, Riordan had to know.

  “Laurel’s been having a hard time adjusting to life as a big sister. Cassie thought dance class would help and she took to it like a pig to mud. Whenever I see her, she shows me her new steps and talks about her best friend who has the prettiest name in the whole wide world.” Faulk held his arms open wide, like Laurel must do when she talks about Isla. “I got her the flowers to show her how proud I was of her for learning the steps and for being a good best friend in return.”

  Riordan liked that answer. He would have done the same thing for Isla back in the old days when he had more time and energy. “Why did you get two dozen roses?”

  Faulk snorted. “Oh, because I didn’t know which color Laurel would like better, the pink or the peach. Then I figured I could give the other flowers to the girls in her class, but when I saw how Isla came alive when you started to dance with her, I knew the other dozen were for her.”

  “Thank you. I forgot to buy her some. You really saved my ass.” That hadn’t come out sounding as grateful as Riordan had intended.

  “Riordan, you saved her today. Actually, from the story you told about signing her up for dance lessons, you saved her months ago. After your dance today, I spent the rest of the recital watching the other dads in the audience. I can’t tell you how many of t
hem were disinterested in all of this. They were on their phones or were half asleep. Most of them couldn’t have done what you did today. The rest wouldn’t have for fear they’d embarrass themselves. You’re an amazing father. Then factor in that you’re doing it alone. I think you’re remarkable.” Faulkner nodded. “I’ll see you at Carson’s.” Faulkner turned to go.

  Riordan watched him walk away. The last thing he would ever call himself was remarkable. He opened the driver’s side door to the SUV quietly and got inside.

  “You’re welcome, Daddy,” Isla said.

  “For what?” Riordan eyed her suspiciously in the rear-view mirror.

  “For bringing Faulkner to you.” She smiled brightly.

  Now Riordan was confused. “You brought him to me?”

  Isla nodded. “You say all the time how much you love Faulkner, so I prayed like Noni taught me. You’ve been so sad since Papa went to live in heaven, so I asked God to send you Faulkner since you love him so much. He answered my prayer.” Isla sounded convinced.

  Riordan’s mouth hung open. Isla had a point. He did love Faulkner. William Faulkner. He was Riordan’s favorite author. He started to laugh. “Thank you, honey.” They’d talk about her asking God to send him a man later.

  “Welcome, Daddy!”

  Isla’s smile was worth it, even if he had no intention of seeing Faulkner Hayes past today.

  4

  Faulkner

  A widower. Riordan was a widower. Faulkner clutched the steering wheel of his truck extra hard. Ronan obviously knew what had happened to Riordan’s husband, but until today, he’d never heard of Riordan Quinn. He had to admit the little girls had quickly worked their way into his heart. So had their father.

  Faulkner had been enamored with the man just watching him dance. Riordan had an easy grace about him. He knew the steps, and what was more, he was having a great time dancing with his daughters. That was sexy as hell. He’d been half hard watching Riordan move.

  Then it had all come crashing down to earth when he’d heard Riordan tell the story about losing his husband. It had only been a year since Stephen passed away and he still looked lost without him.

  There was no way Faulk could ask him out even though his dick was one hundred percent on board with that plan. To be honest, his dick was on board with any plan that even remotely involved the possibility that it could get naked and then touched by someone other than himself.

  Pulling up in front of Carson and Truman’s house, Faulk realized he was going to need to find a way to ignore the lunatic urges of his long-suffering dick. It wasn’t going to be easy. Riordan Quinn was his type of man exactly with his dark hair and intelligent eyes.

  He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror, his icy blue eyes were always his greatest asset. His dark hair, now that it was back to being dark again, instead of being platinum blond when he’d been undercover, was silky, inviting men to run their hands through it. So, why wasn’t anyone running their hands through it?

  Faulk had stopped sleeping around over a year ago. One-night stands just weren’t doing it for him anymore. Coming to that conclusion had been a mature, grown up step, but in that time, he hadn’t been out on any dates either. Riordan was the first man he’d met who he’d been truly interested in getting to know, but now it looked like that was the worst idea he’d ever had.

  Getting out of the truck, he could see all of his other friends were here already. Faulk loved this neighborhood. Truman had lived here for years and he and Carson decided to make this their family home when they got married. Tennyson and Ronan wanted to live near them and had jumped at the opportunity to buy the house three doors down. Captain Fitzgibbon and his adopted son, Greeley, bought the house across the street several months later when Greeley decided to attend Salem State University. Greeley was now living in the house alone since Fitzgibbon’s fiancé, Jace Lincoln had bought a townhouse down the block from Carson and Truman. Faulk hadn’t said anything yet, but he’d started looking for property in Salem too. It didn’t have to be on this street, but he’d prefer it.

  Now, he was just serving out the end of his lease in his North End apartment in Boston. He’d needed the place when he’d been undercover with the Dragonni family, but now he wanted out and to be free of those memories.

  Walking into Carson’s house, he was stunned by how many people were there. The kids were gathered around the television watching a Disney movie and he could hear the adults in the kitchen.

  “Uncle Faulk!” a tiny voice chirped.

  Before he knew what was happening, Isla was throwing herself at him. Macy was toddling behind her sister.

  “You made it!” Isla looked like seeing him made her day.

  Faulk bent down so the girls could hug him. “Sorry I’m late.” He’d spent a lot of time sitting in the truck thinking over what had happened so far today.

  “It’s okay. Come watch Cinderella. Have you ever seen it?” Isla took his hand and started dragging him toward an empty spot in the middle of the living room floor.

  Helpless, but to follow her, he noticed Macy raising her arms to him. He scooped her up along the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Hi!” she announced.

  “Hi, cutie.” Macy was adorable with her light brown hair and toothy grin.

  “Hi!” Macy said again.

  “Here!” Isla tugged his hand.

  “Down we go.” Faulk whooped as he slid to the floor.

  Macy echoed the sound and clapped her hands.

  It was then Faulk realized his mistake. All three of Carson and Truman’s toddlers, Velociraptors, they affectionately called them, turned from the movie and started to whoop before getting up and running toward him. All three climbed into his lap along with Macy.

  “Mine!” Bertha shouted.

  “No, mine!” Brian insisted.

  “Mine!” Stephanie was patting his shoulder.

  “Hey, guys,” Faulkner said quietly, like he did to a perp he wanted to pay particular attention to him. “There’s enough of me to go around.” He planted a kiss on the side of Stephanie’s head, pulled Brian into his lap next to Macy and gave Bertha a tickle. He slid Isla under his right arm.

  Laurel ran into the room and slid under his left arm.

  “That was Jedi Master impressive,” Riordan said from the kitchen door. “Six kids settled in under two minutes.”

  “Faulkner Hayes, human jungle gym.” He grinned at Riordan, dropping him a wink.

  Riordan half-choked.

  It didn’t escape Faulk’s attention that Riordan’s eyes darkened. It should have, but it didn’t. His mind flashed to a scene of Riordan sitting in his lap, riding his cock, which was so inappropriate, considering his lap was currently loaded with the man’s kids. “I’m the toddler pied piper.” Faulk shrugged trying to make it look effortless, rather than like he was a pompous dick.

  “Carson sent me in here to make sure everything was okay. He worries when it gets too quiet.”

  “Well, Isla asked if I’d seen Cinderella and well, I hadn’t, so she dragged me to sit with her, and then Macy sat with me, which prompted the Velociraptors to fight over me, then Laurel joined the party. Now you’re here.” Faulk turned on his million-watt smile.

  “Velociraptors?” Riordan laughed.

  “That’s Carson’s nickname for the triplets. “Brian, Stephanie, and Baby Bertha.” Faulk pointed to each child as he called them off. “So named for their coordinated way of darting off in three different directions at bed and naptime.”

  “Like the movie dinosaurs.” Riordan grinned.

  “Only without that sharp toe claw.” Faulk smiled brightly.

  “Shhh!” Baby Bertha shot Faulk the stink eye.

  Riordan snorted, hiding his laughter behind his hands. He stepped closer to Faulk. “I’m here to take food orders. Do you think I’ll be a hero or will the kids pounce on me and chew on my skull like that game warden in the movie?”

  “Let’s find out!”
Faulk smiled brightly. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table, hitting the pause button.

  “Nooooo!” Baby Bertha wailed like it was the end of the world.

  “It’s your room to win back.” Faulk laughed. He started rubbing the upset toddler’s back.

  Riordan wore a tentative smile. “Hi kids! I’m Riordan! Truman is gonna fire up the grill. Who wants something to eat?”

  “’Rella!” Bertha demanded.

  “’Rella!” Macy echoed.

  Soon all of the kids had taken up that rallying cry, like tiny Bravehearts, who were shouting for Cinderella, instead of freedom.

  “I think you lost the room.” Faulk rolled his eyes. “Who wants a hot dog?” Faulk raised his hand.

  “Me!” Laurel’s hand went up.

  “Me too,” Isla instantly agreed.

  “How about you, cutie? Do you want a hot dog?” Faulk asked Macy.

  “Dog!” she nodded, snuggling deeper into Faulk’s side.

  “How about you, Bertha? Do you want a hot dog?” Faulk poked her most ticklish side.

  The little girl looked back at him like she was going to pout, but saw the funny face Faulk was making. “Hot dog,” she agreed.

  “Hot dog!” Brian and Stephanie demanded. Soon all of the kids were chanting for a hot dog.

  “What’s going on here?” Ronan was laughing.

  “It’s The Great Hot Dog Coup of 2019. Bertha’s going to take over the world.” Faulk started to laugh.

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute.” Ronan paused, giving Faulk the once-over. “You look good with a lapful of kids.” He turned and headed back into the kitchen.

  “Thanks, boss.” Faulk knew Ronan couldn’t hear him.

  “How about you, Uncle Faulk? Hot dog, hamburger, or sausage?” Riordan’s voice had gone soft.

  “Hmm, I had no idea option number three was even on the menu.” Damn, there he went again, flirting with the widower. What the hell were the rules here anyway?

  Riordan flushed a deep red. He cleared his throat.

  Faulkner had scored an obvious bullseye. The man was so damn responsive. He wondered if other men didn’t bother flirting with Riordan because of his loss. Maybe they weren’t interested in his baggage or in his precious cargo. He couldn’t help thinking those men were idiots.