Turning the instruction sheet upside-down and back again, I still couldn’t make any sense of it. I needed help, even if I didn’t want to ask for it and there wasn’t a single person I could think of that knew how to put shit like this together. Ma was out of town with the girls, and no other moron I knew was stupid enough to knock up their chick. No, not their chick, their friend who they happened to one-night fucking stand.

“Get it together, asshole; you can do this.” It was just a few screws and some wood. I’m a man and men can do this shit. “Right?” I threw the instructions over my shoulder, picked up the discarded drill and took ahold of one side of the crib. I then got stuck into making a room Teeny would be excited to lay our baby down in. Who needs fucking instructions!

I leaned over and dropped the baby mattress inside the finished crib. Admiring my handy work, I picked up the patchwork puppy and sat it inside when the whole thing collapsed. “FUCK!” I kicked the metal toolbox sitting on the floor; shooting pains tore up my bare foot. “Motherfucker! “ This shit was frustrating.

“Swearing at it ain’t gonna help you none.” I spun around catching my foot on a pile of bags and going ass over tit. I landed sprawled on the floor surrounded by blankets, toys and plastic bags. Almost instantly, Mace was looming over me trying to hold in his laughter.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” I asked staring up at the freshly painted ceiling hoping whatever was digging into my back wasn’t broken.

“I saw the delivery truck a few hours ago. That and your yelling held a sort of allure even I can’t resist,” he chuckled putting a hand out to help me up, which I batted away half-heartedly.

“You could have come helped me earlier, asshat. I’ve ripped my hands up. I have paint every fuckin’ where and I’m about ready to take an axe to this piece-of-shit crib,” I grumbled pulling myself up into a sitting position and pulling a squeaky toy out from under my ass.

“Consider it payback for not helping me with the flowers in Scar’s yard,” he smiled as he moved to the middle of my mountain of screw up that should have been a nursery already.

“That was a pussy-ass move,” I grumbled. I still couldn’t believe he’d gone to such extremes to win her back. His plan to annoy her into forgiving him had been more of a success than I thought it ever would.

“It pissed her off enough to take me back, so I’d say my pussy-ass move worked,” he said smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You gonna help me or just stand there, Romeo?” I grouched picking myself up off the floor and being extra careful not to go down again.

Mumbling under his breath, he picked up a few tools and got to work smiling like a fool the whole time. It only served to make me want to slap him a little. He always did find too much amusement in my misfortune. Scar rocked around about an hour later with beer and pizza claiming she wanted to feed us. I was pretty sure she wanted to drool over my brother, sans shirt, building baby shit and laugh at my stupid ass.

“I gotta go visit with Ma. You wanna come?” I asked stopping myself from flicking my tongue stud against my lip rings. If I were afraid to tell one person, it would be my mom.

“You aren’t taking Teeny then? “ he asked looking confused. The clicking from the metal piercings started up again while I processed his question.

I hadn’t actually thought to take her; it was probably a good idea. Ma came across as a sweet lady, but I knew full well what happened when you did something wrong. I’d been on the short end of her wooden spoon enough times as a teenager to know you didn’t cross her, ever. If I had Teeny with me, it might serve to lessen the fall back on me. A dick move? Maybe. But I knew Ma didn’t have a rude bone in her body, so as long as Teen was there, everything would be good.

“You’re a fuckin genius!” I smiled. Shoveling through diapers, fluffy toys and baby creams, I finally spotted my cell and typed out a quick message.

Trip: Dinner at Ma’s Tuesday night.

A few seconds later, my phone vibrated.

Teeny: What! Why?

Trip: Gotta tell her you’re knocked up.

Teeny: You’re an asshole

Trip: I know.

Teeny: Screw you.

Trip: I’m up for that. Just tell me where and when, Princess.

Silence. I smiled to myself knowing I was rattling her chains. She was so easy to rile up, and Teeny riled up served to give me a hard-on. Something about seeing her spittin’ mad turned me on; she’d get this look on her face that was almost the expression she had gotten just before she came all over my face; it was damn close to heaven.

“What are you smiling about?” Scarlett asked from the doorway and interrupting my thoughts. Good thing too. I was about two seconds away from sporting said hard-on.

“Nothin’,” I grunted and turned my body slightly away from her to hide the semi evidence.

“Get back to work if you want this finished today.” She picked up a soft toy frog and threw it at the back of my head. “You still gotta put all these toys away.” Looking around my feet, I took in how much work there still was to do. I sighed and got back to work.

“You gotta get out of the truck sometime tonight, Princess,” I told Teeny leaning against the open passenger’s side door.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she hissed glaring daggers at me. She had that particular move skilled to almost perfection; it was just lucky on my part that it didn’t scare me.

“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder. Come on,” I warned. I leaned over her to unclick her seatbelt earning a slapped hand and a scowl.

“What’s the deal with the truck anyway?” she asked “You said you’d never own anything and I quote that you couldn’t ride hard.” I didn’t miss the bitchy tone she used.

“Got a baby comin’. Can’t strap Midget to the back of my Harley.” After two days of putting together baby stuff and folding clothes and sheets, I opened the last box or dangly car toys from the nursery only to realize I needed something bigger than my bike to put a car seat in once we’d gotten one. This meant it was time to buy a truck, and if I was going to buy a truck, it was going to be a truck that suited me.

“Midget?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“Yep, that’s what I’m calling the kid for now,” I explained. I wasn’t sure why I’d decided on that nickname, but it sounded a lot more manly than jellybean. Her face softened and transformed into an expression I struggled to read before the walls went right back up again.

“You could have gotten a regular truck you know. This thing is enormous. How’s anyone supposed to get down from it without breaking something?” She didn’t miss a beat before she was back to cussing out my truck choice. If I knew she’d let me buy her a new car without having a conniption, I would have done that too, or maybe I would anyway.

Twenty minutes late and running out of patience, I reached in quickly, undid her belt and picked her up. Ignoring her squeal of surprise, I pulled her purposefully flush against me, one hand full of lush ass, the other on her hip. Lowering my head to her neck, I took a deep breath catching the soft vanilla scent of her blonde hair. Taking as much as I could get, I gently bit her earlobe and then ran my lips over the same spot.

“Don’t push me, Princess. I’m clear out of give–a-fucks and my dick’s so hard it could hammer nails. Move that sweet ass before I bend it over and fuck it into oblivion,” I growled in her ear driving the point home with a quick swat to her ass.

Making sure her feet were on the ground, I let go and stalked for the house adjusting my now very tight-in-the-crotch jeans. I didn’t miss the soft moan from Teeny before she cleared her throat and mumbled something about assholes and penis trucks. Damn, the girl made me smile.

Chapter Four

Teeny

“Stop glaring at me,” Trip murmured as we walked in the front door of his mother’s house.

“I’m not glaring. I’m taking great pleasure in hurting you with a rusty fork in my head,” I hissed. Trip had this way of ticking me off. He got under my skin like nobody else. He even had the audacity to drag me along for the let’s tell my mom I knocked you up after a drunken one-night stand talk. Times like these I was glad I had no family.

He didn’t get a word out before his mom, Marcy, was in front of us handing out hugs and welcomes.

“You don’t come home nearly enough, Javerio.” Marcy held his face in her hands and leaned up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his forehead.

Huh? I knew he went by his nickname, but he’d never told anybody what his real name was, no matter how much we asked.

I was standing stock still more than a little dumbfounded when Marcy wrapped her arms around me with a big smile and said, “So glad you’re here, Teeny baby.” Trip’s mom was everyone’s mom; you didn’t come in her house and not call her Ma, and it had been this way for as long as I’d know Trip.

The very first time I’d met her, she insisted I call her Ma. She was the sweetest, kindest person you would ever meet, but still, I was nervous at telling her I was carrying an accidental grandchild.

“You look great, Ma. I missed you.” It was the truth. I had missed her. She had that warm way of making you feel loved, even if you weren’t her own child.

“Hush now, baby. Come sit. Dinner is ready,” she said wrapping an arm around me and guiding us to the dining room with Trip on our heels.

After a round of hugs and catch up questions with Trip’s two younger sisters, Haven and Milla, we settled at the table. Wringing my hands together on my lap, I looked around apprehensively.

“So I wanted to tell you something important, Ma,” Trip announced drawing the attention of everyone to where we sat side-by-side. Reaching under the table, he grabbed my hand and excitedly blurted, “Teeny and I are havin’ a kid.” He smiled like a kid who had been locked in a candy store while I squeezed my eyes shut and reined in the urge to backhand Trip for his less that charming announcement. He could have said it a little less…I don’t know, in your face? The deafening silence that followed just about pierced my eardrums. All eyes on us, I started to fidget. My worry for their reaction took over, while Trip just looked like he’d won the World Series and a Nobel Prize.

The metal spoon Marcy was holding dropped with a clang to the table. I couldn’t read her expression, which made me wonder if it was a good time to turn tail and run for the door. She slowly walked around the table to me, her eyes trained to my stomach. I stood up unsure of what to say or do. As soon as I got to my feet, she enveloped me in her soft arms and let out a sob. Stiff as a board and darting my eyes from Trip to Marcy and back again, I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but this wasn’t really it. Wrapping my arms around her, I rubbed her back. “A grandbaby? I’m so happy for you, Nena,” she sniffled. Pulling back, she smacked Trip around the back of his head before leaning down and kissing his cheek. Marcy always reverted back to speaking part Spanish when she was emotional.