Lead Him Not Into Temptation (Redemption Book 2) (19 page)

The waitress makes her way to our table, but when she begins to address us, Royce speaks over her. “We don’t need to hear the specials, sweetpea. My friend and I will just take whatever you have on tap, but she’s knocked up so just bring her a water.” He points to me and gives me a little wink which earns him the best crusty look I can throw at him. The waitress looks to me for confirmation, and I just give her a nod that the water is fine. I’m thankful when she leaves without asking anything else.

“So. We wanted to invite you here to find out what your intentions are with are boy?” John probes sheepishly.

“Are you fucking kidding me, guys?” I spit out, annoyed with this dinner outing and Royce’s mouth. “This isn’t the 1800’s and Casen and I aren’t in some G-rated courtship. Just ask me what you want to know,” I demand impatiently.

“Simmer it down, Madre,” Royce interjects. “We know that Casen is in love with you, but we also know he loves his music. We just want to make sure that you have his best interest at heart. That you aren’t going to be one of those groupie bitches that snags a man on his way up by getting pregnant, comes between him and his band, and then leaves him when he doesn’t have a penny to his name.”

“I have been with you guys for a while now, and this is really what you think of me?” I ask unsure if I am more hurt than pissed over their accusation.

“No!” John shouts. “We think you’re great. He’ll never admit it, but even Royce thinks so. We just want Casen to be happy. He’s been through a lot, and he would do anything for anyone, without ever expecting anything in return. We want to know that you’ll give as much as you take.”

“And that you won’t break up the band,” Royce interrupts. John elbows him, attempting to shut him up and Royce throws his hands up in defense. “What? We want to know that too.”

“Basically, you think I’m going to steal him away from you guys and make him get some shitty nine to five job to support the baby I stuck him with,” I clarify.

“No!” John contends.

“Yes,” Royce says at the same time.

My face flushes and my body vibrates as the anger takes hold. “You guys are pricks,” I snap, as I push my chair away from the table and begin to stand.

“Stop,” Royce says grabbing my arm, halting my mad dash out of the building. “Please. We just want to make sure that were on the same page, that’s all.”

I take a deep breath and slowly return to me seat. “Fine let’s hear it.”

“We all think you’re a kickass chick, Jen,” Royce begins.

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him, disbelieving his attempt at a compliment.

“We really do,” John adds.

“The band is supposed to start recording in a month or so,” Royce continues. “Casen has always wanted to be a dad, and he’s always wanted to play his music. We need to know that you’re going to be okay with how life will change for all of us, that you won’t hurt him. He deserves to have both of his dreams come true.”

Taking my time to rein in my fury and compose myself, I gather the words that I need to tell these two. “I know what it’s like to be in the public eye,” I tell them. “There are some great perks, of course, but there is also some fucked up things that come along with fame. None of it is going to scare me away from Casen, guys. I’m here to stay, so you better start treating me like the kickass chick that I am.”

Royce cracks a smile. “I can live with that,” he says, lightly smacking my back.

“Good. Now buy me a damn Hawaiian pizza.”

Jen

I must be out of my fucking mind. I take that back, Casen must be out of his fucking mind and I must have had my frontal lobe removed to agree to this camping trip. It’s just Casen and me in his little camper with five, I repeat, five children! Blake, the queens of the divas Emma and Grace, Olivia, and Abby who I invited. Hendrix is coming along, but I’m putting him in the adult category so I don’t feel so outnumbered. I have to admit, I’m a little worried about my safety. If these kids decide to revolt, it will play out like a scene from
The Hunger Games
and I’m positive my camera isn’t going to save my pampered ass.

Casen already went up to the campground and got everything ready for the weekend. Fishing gear, sleeping bags, lawn chairs, and massive amounts of snacks, which could feed a third world country. I don’t know how Feed the Children can feed a child on thirty cents a day; our food bill was nowhere near that estimate. My credit card will never be the same.

I’m in charge of picking up the kids and taking them to the campsite. I think everyone is overestimating my managerial skills because I personally don’t see this ending well. As I pull into Vivian’s driveway, I see all of the kids, aside from Abby who’ll be meeting us there, lined up along the entryway. The wide range of moods peering back at me has me shitting myself before I even get out of my car. Blake, as expected, is full of excitement with a perma-grin plastered on his face. The folded arms and frowns, which Emma and Grace are sporting in addition to the mounds of suitcases next to them, suggest they will be the leaders of this weekend’s revolution. Then there is little Olivia. I’m not too concerned with her. I’ve assigned Henri to her for the weekend. I even bought a special leash with clips on both ends so I can connect them together. There will be no wandering off for that little munchkin.

I climb out of the car and I’m immediately met with demands from the rebel leaders.

“Just so you know, we are not okay with this. We will not be touching anything icky and we will report all naughty words back to Daddy,” Grace tries to negotiate.

“I’m with you girls, I don’t do icky stuff,” I respond. “We’ll leave that to the boys. Blake, be prepared for a weekend filled with fish guts.” Blake perks up even brighter, as do the girls.

“I was beginning to think you changed your mind,” Vivian says as she and Carly make their way from the house to meet us. They both wave to Brooks who brings the minivan out of the garage. Yes, the minivan. There are so many kids coming with us we have to borrow Vivian’s minivan. Again, I must have had a lobotomy.

Brooks parks the silver beast in front of us and pushes the button to slide open the passenger doors. “Jen, you know I appreciate you doing this so we can have a weekend away, but I’m seriously questioning your sanity. They’re my kids, and I have yet to find the courage to take them all on a vacation,” he tells me as the kids all throw their bags in and climb into their seats.

“This was Casen’s idea. At least you have a drop down DVD player; this is where I’ll spend the majority of the weekend.”

He hugs and kisses the girls and then buckles them into their seats before making his way to me. “Just bring them back in one piece with as little emotional scarring as possible. I would prefer not to have to explain to their teacher where they learned the colorful language you’re known for.”

“Hey now, I like to think I use profanity in an appropriate manner which is fucking ladylike.” Both of my friends laugh, while Brooks shakes his head.

“There’s the Jen we know. Now, don’t go getting lost in Walmart,” he says, slapping me on the back and heading into the house.

“I hope you bring his cone along,” I tell Vivian.

“Are you kidding me, between the baby and the vasectomy, we’re looking at months of celibacy. We’re using this weekend to our full advantage.”

“She’s not kidding,” Carly adds. “I took her this morning to have the va-jungle tamed.”

“Cut me some slack, the belly is getting big enough that I can’t reach it myself,” Vivian defends herself.

I laugh and give them both a hug and slide into the driver’s seat of the ultimate mom wagon. “I’ll leave you to your weekend of sex. At least someone will be getting laid. I’d hate my misery to go to waste.” Everyone waves good-bye, and I say a small prayer for my survival as we pull out of the driveway.

Between the potty breaks and stops to change out movies, the two-hour drive took three hours. THREE! It’s dark as I pull into the campsite, and Casen meets me at the van to carry kids into bed. I make a mental note to tear the van apart in the morning, as somehow Blake lost a shoe. How one loses a shoe in a four by ten confined area, I’ll never know, but we won’t be doing any exploring until the sneaker is found.

As soon as everyone is settled, Casen and I change into our pajamas, climb into bed, and run through the plan for the following day.

“I thought we would go fishing and hiking. I picked up some water guns for the afternoon when it gets hot,” Casen whispers as to not wake the minions.

I snuggle down into the blankets and Henri takes his usual spot wrapped around my legs. “Whatever will pass the hours as quickly as possible. I keep telling myself it’s really only one day. Anyone can survive twenty-four hours of something.”

He laughs, pulling me into a safe embrace, which has become a feeling of home for me. Kissing my temple and laying a hand on my growing stomach, I melt into him. “I love you, sparkplug. Get some rest; you’re going to need it.”

It’s not the sunlight, which wakes me up, nor is it the smell of bacon and eggs Casen is cooking for everyone. No, I’m woken up to the smack in the face served by a toddler rolling around in my bed. Olivia must have climbed in and fell asleep after Casen woke up to start breakfast. I was not warned of this by Carly. She failed to mention the tossing and turning as well. Now, the first casualty of the trip can be marked down as my right eye.

I free myself from under her arm and tiptoe out of the room. The living area looks like a bomb has exploded. Sleeping bags and pillows are thrown everywhere, body parts poke out from various pieces of the bedding. While I’m not sure where to walk to not step on anyone, I’m thankful they are asleep. Well, they are asleep until Casen starts jingling a damn triangle like we’re on a cattle drive. “Come and get it,” he hollers. Everyone pops up, wide-eyed and freaked out.

“Have you never heard the phrases, don’t poke the bear and never wake a sleeping baby?” I ask Casen when he walks in the door. I bite my lip trying to rein in the colorful language Brooks mentioned. “Momma bear,” I say pointing to myself. “Sleeping babies,” I add, waving my hands over the kids spread out on the floor.

“Sorry guys, breakfast is ready. We have to get moving while the fish are still biting.” Then he closes the camper door and the kids fall back onto their pillows.

“Come on, guys. If we don’t get up, he’ll be back with that jingling thing again.” My advice is met with groans. Blake even throws his pillow at me. “If you wait too long, he’ll feed all of the food to Henri,” I add, moving over everyone and opening the camper door to go outside. That gets their attention and they begin moving around as I close the door to fill my own plate to start the day.

Thankfully, my morning sickness has passed for the most part and has been replaced by a massive-sized appetite, so when Casen hands me a plate I attack it like a starving person. I’m not at all bashful about the food I may have smeared all over my face because of my slacking table manners. I notice Casen staring at me intently, probably wondering how much food I can actually eat or get on my face.

“In my book, pregnancy gives me a free pass on the use of napkins,” I tell him, digging in for more.

“I said nothing, sparky,” he says in surrender with a laugh.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,” I respond between mouthfuls.

Within the hour we manage to get everyone fed, cleaned up, and loaded for fishing. Abby shows up just in time to head to the lake. Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling about her being a part of this weekend. I want her to have fun, I want her to like me, and I don’t want to forget to feed her like I did with the cat. I’m glad our first weekend together will include the other kids to serve as a buffer.

I gather the girls and we select the prime fishing spot while the boys unload the fishing gear and cooler filled with drinks and snacks. Trudging through the grass the quarter mile hike to the lake, I think I heard every excuse possible as to why Emma and Grace could no longer continue. Bugs, poison ivy, snakes—which I banned all further discussion about—dirt on their purses, I heard it all.

“We’re here, girls!” I happily announce when we finally arrive at the fishing spot. “Now do you remember what I told you about the bait?” I ask them as we begin to set up chairs.