Grabbing his cheeks firmly she gives him a serious look. “Eye-cream, Uh-oh.” I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she continues uttering her request. “Peas, Uh-oh.”

He melts like butter in the midday sun. “Well, shit—” He catches himself. “I mean, shoot.” He looks at me helplessly. “How the hell can I say no to that?”

Yeah, I’m no help in this situation. “I couldn’t.”

Not only because it’s ice cream which is a straight-up gift from God, but C.J.’s far too adorable for words.

“Fine.”

He holds the chocolate ice cream cone out to her, but she snatches the other one in his hand.

Oakley’s mouth drops open. “Hey, that’s mine.”

C.J. doesn’t agree though because she happily laps at what appears to be mint chip ice cream.

“Smart girl.” I sink to my haunches so I’m eye level with her. “Mint chip is my favorite.”

C.J. holds it out to me, and I realize she’s trying to share. “Aw, no thank you, baby.”

Oakley makes a face. “Trust me, you should take it before she shoves it in your mouth.”

“Really—”

As if on cue, she thrusts the cone forward and I get a mouthful of mint chip.

“So yummy,” I tell her because no way in hell would I ever be mad at a kid for sharing their ice cream with me. Especially when it’s my favorite. “Thank you.”

“Good job sharing,” Oakley praises, looking like he’s trying his hardest to hold back laughter. “We just need to work on you being less aggressive about it.”

“That’s not such a bad thing,” I say with a wink. “Sometimes being persistent pays off and you end up getting exactly what you want.”

I can feel those intense blue eyes boring into me. “Is that so?”

I’m not sure if it was intended or not, but there’s a flirtatious tilt to his voice. I’m suddenly grateful for my tan complexion because I’m positive I’m blushing a thousand different shades of red right now.

“Well, being persistent is how I got you.”

Realizing my blunder, I avert my gaze. “I mean, you know…got my friendship with you.”

His expression turns stormy. “Right.”

“Uh-oh,” C.J. calls out.

We both turn our attention back to her. “Does that mean she had an accident?”

Laughing, Oakley shakes his head. “No, that’s how she says my name.”

Jesus. I’m pretty sure that’s the most endearing thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

After it’s clear C.J.’s had enough of her ice cream, Oakley tries to wipe her face again, but she’s not having it.

Whining, she turns her head from side to side.

“Here,” I say, grabbing the wipe from him. “Let me try.”

Making silly faces and noises to distract her, I quickly clean off her lips and cheeks.

Pretty soon her whines of protest turn into adorable fits of giggles and she starts making faces back at me.

We’re having so much fun fooling around, I almost don’t hear Oakley’s next sentence. “You’re really good with her.”

I’m about to speak, but his face is etched in so much agony my chest aches.

The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks the fog around us.

“What’s going on here?”

I look up at a short, stocky man glaring down at us with an angry scowl on his face.

“Hey, Dad,” Oakley starts. “I took C.J. for some ice cream, so we were cleaning her up.”

The man’s face softens a fraction…until his eyes wander over to me again.

He doesn’t say a word, but it’s clear he doesn’t like me.

I wish I knew why.

Wiping my palms on my jeans, I stand up and extend my hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Bianca.” I gesture to C.J. “Your daughter is beautiful.”

The man glances at my outstretched hand like it’s manure. “I know who you are.” He looks at Oakley. “Get inside, Oak. Now.”

Oakley’s jaw tics. “For fuck’s sake relax. We were just talk—”

“Now.” His eyes narrow. “You know damn well you need to stay away from her.”

Whoa.

“Look,” I begin. “I’m sorry for whatever I might have done—”

He holds up a hand. “That’s enough.” He takes a step closer. “If you want to talk to me or Oakley then tell your father to get a lawyer. Until then, stay the hell away from my son. Because if you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to get a restraining order against you. And believe me, sweetheart, you don’t want that.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“Dad,” Oakley barks. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? She didn’t do anything wrong. Lay the fuck off her.”

The vein in his father’s forehead makes an appearance. “Goddammit, Oak. I’m trying to protect you.”

Protecting him from what?”

“What did I do?” I question, my voice coming out wobbly. “What—”

“Nothing,” Oakley reassures me. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Bianca.” He glares at his father. “Don’t you dare put my shit on her.”

His father frowns. “Oak—”

“What the hell is going on?” A slightly disheveled Stone snarls before rushing to my side. “Are they bothering you?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, but Oakley’s father cuts in.

“Bothering her? Quite the opposite, young man.”

Stone’s understandably confused. “What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing,” I say, but Stone focuses on Oakley.

“You better stay the hell away from my fiancée, asshole.”

“Or what?” Oakley goads, taking a step forward. “You’ll tell her brothers since you’re too much of a pussy to deal with me yourself.”

“That’s enough, Oak,” his father says. “We don’t have to take this bullshit from them. Let’s go back inside your apartment.”

Oakley starts to walk away, but Stone mutters, “Listen to your pops, you lowlife junkie.”

“Jesus, Stone,” I shout. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

He turns his furious glare on me. “I don’t want this piece of shit anywhere near you.” He wraps his hand around my wrist like I’m a chew toy he’s trying to take ownership of. “Do you fucking understand me?”

“Talk to her like that again,” Oakley seethes as he walks over to us. His eyes flick down to where Stone’s hand is still secured around my wrist. “I fucking dare you.”

Stone scoffs. “Last I checked, she was my fiancée, not yours. Therefore, you need to butt out of our relationship and stick to the only things you’re good at like getting so drunk and high you kill innocent people.”

My stomach drops. Not only are his words brutal, they no doubt make Oakley feel even worse than he already does.

“Stop it, Stone.”

“That’s enough,” Oakley’s father roars. “Keep saying that crap to my son and I’ll make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell, you little shit.”