All Wrapped Up for the Holidays by Vi Keeland Penelope Ward Colleen Hoover Kristen Ashley Jill Shalvis Elle Kennedy K. Bromberg

Author:Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward, Colleen Hoover, Kristen Ashley, Jill Shalvis, Elle Kennedy, K. Bromberg
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Fiction
Publisher: Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward, Colleen Hoover, Kristen Ashley, Jill Shalvis, Elle Kennedy, K. Bromberg
Published: 2019-01-15T06:00:00+00:00

“Daddaaaaaaaay!”

Gracie, his oldest, raced up to him the minute he walked in the back door.

She was in his arms the next second, swung onto his back the second after that.

Part one of the routine every night he came home.

Then came part two.

“Daddeeeeeeeee!”

Maisie was next, but as her usual, she didn’t want a ride up top.

She sat on his foot, wrapped her arms and legs around his calf and knee and grinned up at him, her mother’s eyes in her beautiful face shining.

This meant Stark walked into his house like a peg-legged pirate.

He didn’t give a fuck.

“Good day?” he asked Gracie what he asked every night he got home.

“Good day!” she shouted, like she did every night he got home.

“Good day, Maze?” he asked his baby.

“Good day, Daddeeeee!” she shouted.

Serious as shit, he was going to be one of those fathers who would work to make it so his daughters called him daddy until he died. He didn’t care if they were sixty by that time.

Only better sound was Ava whispering, “Love you,” in his ear before she fell asleep.

And he was going to work to get that every night until he died too.

They both got his dark hair, and Grace got his blue eyes.

And thank fuck, Maisie got her mom’s light brown ones.

In truth, he wouldn’t change a thing about either of his girls. They were gorgeous. They had their mom’s attitude and both their parents’ grit.

But that didn’t mean there weren’t times he wished that his physical traits weren’t dominant because he would want one of them to look just like the girl who he’d watched grow up across the street.

The girl, who, outside his mom, had been the only truly decent, good, worthwhile thing in the life he’d lived under his father’s roof.

He grinned at both his girls while moving from the mud room into the family room which took him to the kitchen where his wife was, unsurprisingly, entertaining.

The Rock Chicks were social.

But this was different.

This was Shirleen and her crew.

It wasn’t blood.

But it still was family.

It could be argued all the Rock Chicks were family, and it would be Stark arguing that.

The bond Shirleen had with Ava, and his babies, was just that much more.

Shirleen, Lee’s office manager, had claimed Ava during the time Stark and his woman were getting together.

And then Shirleen had claimed their daughters.

In other words, Shirleen was at their house and she was there often.

Shirleen had her ass to a seat at his bar.

Moses, Shirleen’s husband, was at his stove.

Roam and Sniff, Shirleen’s kids (who had been street kids, then her foster kids, now they were just her boys—although Roam was also Lee’s since he worked with them, and Sniff was home for the holidays, because the rest of the time, he was Uncle Sam’s), were also at his bar, stuffing their faces with a nut-crusted cheeseball and crackers.

Ava was dumping tater tots into the air fryer.

Stark looked from his wife, who did not look at him, to Shirleen, who gave him big eyes, to Moses, who caught his gaze and shook his head.

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