Hammers & Heartstrings (The Riley Siblings #3)

1. Noah

Chapter One

NOAH

“ C lover Creek! Your cute little butt better be getting dressed!” The toast pops up just as I pull the eggs off the stove, the only things I can really cook outside of frozen chicken nuggets and a classic PB and J. “Hustle, peanut!”

Thank God my kid isn’t picky.

Avocado toast is probably her favorite thing in the world and it’s one of the few things I don’t totally destroy when I make it.

“Clover?” I butter the toast, slide the sliced avocado onto it then carefully put the over medium eggs on top. “Clover, sweetheart, we’re gonna be late!”

“I’m not going!” my almost four-year-old screams as she slams her door.

Fuck .

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

I leave our plates on the island and clomp my way toward the stairs with a deep, cleansing breath. I love my daughter more than anything in the world, but I’m not thrilled that I passed my temper onto her.

“Clover?” I sigh and drop my forehead to her door. “Baby, we’re going to be late.”

“Don’t care cause I’m nots going.”

She got my stubborn streak too.

“Can we talk about why you don’t want to go to preschool today?”

Nothing.

“Clover, baby, Daddy has to go to work, and you have to go to school. If you don’t, then I can’t go to work and if I don’t go to work?—”

Her door opens and wide stormy blue eyes blink up at me. “Then you gets in trouble with the big boss man.”

“Right.” I smile down at my mini-me and crouch down to her level. “What’s wrong, baby? Why don’t you want to go to school?”

She shrugs her pink pajama clad shoulders.

“I thought you liked school. Liked Miss Leslie and your friends?”

“I do.” Clover nods then tugs the end of her pigtails. “I just don’t wanna go today.”

“Did something happen?” So help me God, if another one of those gold-digging single mothers cornered her again about her Rockstar dad, I will yank her from that private hell hole and take every last fucker to court.

“No...”

With another sigh, I scoop her up in my arms, carry her to the rocking chair my pop made when I was a baby, and plant my big ass in it. “You remember what I said about lying, peanut?”

Clover nods, her eyes downcast.

“Tell me what happened, baby.”

“Bobby’s mom said you’re a...” She looks up at me, scrunching her adorable button nose. “Bobby’s mom said you’re a womanmanizer and a man horse .”

My hackles rise and my blood pressure spikes, but I keep my cool. “Did she say that to you?”

She shakes her head, her white-blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders. “She said it to Jimmy’s mom when Uncle Jax and Uncle Vin picked me up instead of the nanny.” Then she frowns. “Bobby’s mom told Jimmy’s mom you should keeps it in your pants and maybe you won’t have so much troubles finding me a nanny that wants to sticks around.”

Goddamnit .

I was worried about something like that. Hell, I’ve been worried about any number of things like that since I enrolled Clover in preschool.

I had to fire another nanny just this past weekend for one of the usual things I have to fire them for. Stealing money from me, trying to auction my shit online, spilling all the details of my life to anyone who will listen, or trying to become my daughter’s new mommy .

The most recent nanny? I came home Saturday night from recording and found her in my bed, naked. She isn’t the first woman to try to weasel her way into my bed for a chance to say she slept with Noah Thorn and I’m sure she won’t be the last.

What kills me is the fact that ninety percent of these women seem normal; they pass all my background checks with flying colors and most of them have degrees in early child development. This last one was a highly recommended former preschool teacher who had been an au pair for one of the producers of my last album. I mean, she was a fucking preschool teacher and the bitch was naked as a jaybird, spread eagle, hoping to entice me enough to sleep with her, and maybe keep her around on a more permanent level.

Not fucking happening .

I haven’t fucked around like that since I found out Clover existed.

I completely changed my life and how I did things because I had to, because shit got real, because I wanted to be the best dad I could be. The dad my little girl deserves.

The dad I never had.

And that shit is why I don’t entrust my daughter with just anyone, not after the way my life was prior to having her, and definitely not after what happened with her biological mother. Clover is and always will be my top priority, my reason for breathing and that’s why I have ex-special forces and secret service working for me to run their info and act as our bodyguards. Totally helps that they’re also two of my closest friends and love Clover like family, but still, I’m sick of this shit and that’s why I have a plan. A plan that I need to put into play much sooner than I anticipated.

“What did Bobby’s mom want you to keeps in your pants?”

I blink, then do it again.

And I definitely need to talk to Clover’s teacher about making sure she’s out of earshot when the stuck-up soccer moms gather in the pickup line.

“My wallet.”

Clover frowns. “That’s where’s you always keeps it.”

“I know, baby. I guess Bobby’s mom is just worried I might lose it.”

“How does that mean my nanny would stick arounds for me?”

I sigh and scratch the stubble on my cheek. “I’m not sure, peanut, but I’m going to find someone who wants to stick around because of how amazing you are and not because of my wallet .”

“Not like the last one.”

I smirk. My kid is awesome.

“No, not like the last one. You didn’t like her?”

Clover shakes her head. “She weared too much perfume and showed her boobies a lot.”

“You are not wrong,” I chuckle. “How about I take you to school today?”

Her entire face lights up and my baby girl beams at me, then nails me right in the heart. “Really?”

“Really. I’ll take you to school.” And have a private and very poignant conversation with her teacher. “Walk you inside and maybe, if you’re good and get dressed super-fast right now, we’ll make a special stop on our way home later.”

“Ice cream?”

I grin. “Maybe.”

“Shopping for a puppy?”

“Not today.” I bop her on the nose with my knuckle then set her on her tiny feet. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Pony rides?” Clover continues her interrogation as she walks into her closet. “Oh! I knows, we’re gonna go to a fancy ball like Cinderella!”

Man, she is so my kid.

“Isn’t that next week?” I start making her bed, pull the rainbow sheets back into place, and fix the fluffy unicorn comforter. “I thought the fancy ball was only on the third Monday of every other month?”

I hear a thud followed by a lot of giggling. “Oh yeah. I forgots.”

Books. Dolls. Stuffed animals. Tiaras. My arms are full of them by the time I round her bed and I drop them into the toy box, we have five minutes before we need to leave.

If only my adoring fans could see me now.

Noah Thorn, guitar god, sex symbol.

Human glitter bomb and kisser of boo-boos.

Some rockstar, right?

Right.

Cause I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Okay, Daddy, I’m ready.”

“Whoa.” I whistle low as I turn. “Who is this princess?”

Clover giggles as she curtsies. “It’s just me, Daddy.”

“Clover? Clover Creek Thornbie? My goodness.” I gasp and clutch my imaginary pearls. “I can’t believe my eyes!”

“Daddy.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s me.”

She twirls, the poofy silver tutu fanning out around her, sparkling as it sits above the rainbow tights and black Chuck Taylors. And Clover, per usual, is wearing one of my band's t-shirts with Bleak December’s first album in the middle of it.

She’s my biggest fan and her Uncle Vin had every shirt we’ve ever had customized in her size and produced enough that she can wear a clean one every day for at least two months. All Clover wears are BD shirts, and it makes me pretty damn proud. Especially when she tops them off with about forty bracelets and a sparkly gold tiara.

“Punk Rock Princess Peanut.”

Clover giggles. “I’m ready now, Daddy.”

“Your chariot awaits, my lady, but you’re gonna have to eat breakfast in the car.”

Ten minutes later, a total of fifteen minutes behind schedule, my princess and I are walking out to my Escalade with our avocado toast in hand.

“Hi!” she shouts as soon as she sees Jax and Vin standing next to their Hummer. “Daddy’s gonna take me to school today!”

Vin arches a brow over his shades. “Yeah?”

“Yep!” Clover smiles as she hugs his knees. “Then we’re gonna make a special stop after school laters.”

“Really?” Jax grins while she hugs his knees, too. “A special secret stop?”

Clover nods, then waits by the back door. “Tops secret.”

They both smirk at me while I buckle my peanut into her seat because they already know what stop I’m going to make and know why I want to make it. Honestly, it was Vin’s idea in the first place, one Jax emphatically agreed with, and since it lined up with the epiphany I had years ago, I couldn’t really argue.

Not to mention Vin and Jax are with me almost twenty-four seven, even live in their own house on my property, so I’m basically bound by law to listen to them and include them in most aspects of my life.

I’m okay with that.

Twenty minutes and a rousing rendition of You’re Welcome from the Moana soundtrack on repeat later, Clover and I walk into her school toward her classroom, the twins of terror lumbering behind.

Jax and Vin aren’t twins, though. Just two massive and grizzly dudes who are scary as fuck, love me and my peanut like family, and are happily married to each other. They’re our family, almost our only family, and they have our backs just like I’ve got theirs. Not everyone knows the details though, they just see them as scary dudes who will absolutely fuck your shit up if you come near me or my daughter, hence twins of terror .

“Hi Clover,” Miss Leslie says as she grins at my daughter while she bolts into the classroom.

Then she stops, spins around and runs over to give me a hug and kiss before she does the same to her uncles. Then Clover is a blur of color, disappearing into the sea of mostly snotty kids.

“Mr. Thornbie.” Her teacher smiles nervously at me. “It’s nice to see you again.”

I nod. “Do you have a minute?”

Her eyes dart to the twenty or so three and four-year-olds before she hesitantly walks over to the doorway. “Is there a problem?”

A huge one, but I’m not looking to rip into Miss Leslie over it. It isn’t her fault most of the kids at this school come from money and have assholes for parents.

“I just wanted to ask that Clover be exposed to the other parents as little as possible.”

Miss Leslie blinks wide eyes at me. “I can assure you, after what took place at the beginning of the year, we try to keep her in the classroom with the other children while their parents check in for pickup. We try to respect your wishes, as well as everyone else’s here at Brimmly, but it’s hard to monitor every interaction with the busyness that’s created at the end of the day.”

Another deep, cleansing breath. “I can appreciate that and while I understand Clover can’t be sheltered from everyone with an opinion, I’d rather she not hear things like womanizer , man whore or keeping it in one’s pants while she’s at school trying to learn and grow.”

Her face pales. “Mr. Thornbie, I highly doubt?—”

“Bobby’s mom apparently feels that my d-i-c-k has everything to do with the most recent disappearing nanny. Strongly enough to tell Jimmy’s mom while they were both close enough for my daughter to hear, then decide she didn’t want to come to school today.”

Miss Leslie opens her mouth as her eyes go even wider, but I hold up a hand.

“I am not holding you responsible for what anyone else thinks or says. I’m used to people forming their own opinions about me and my personal business, used to them spreading it around in worse places than a preschool classroom.” I sigh, my gaze finding Clover as she settles in for circle time. “My previous lifestyle and choices shouldn’t affect Clover, but I’d be an idiot to think they won’t. As her father, I’d like to protect her from the things I wish I could change a little longer than the world is going to allow, if I can. I’d appreciate it if my daughter was kept occupied in some way during pickup time, just so she can stay away from the things other people might think about me. I know it can’t always be avoided, but anything you can do to prevent something like this from happening again would be appreciated.”

Miss Leslie blows out a breath as she nods. “I understand and I truly am sorry Clover overheard those things.” Then she gives me a slight smile. “For what it’s worth, who you were before you had Clover doesn’t really matter because you’re doing a wonderful job raising her. She thinks you hung the moon and that’s because of who you are now. You’re a very good father and it shows in that little girl.”

I nod my thanks, wave to my princess and turn to leave.

If I didn’t know Miss Leslie was married to her high school sweetheart and has been for almost twenty-five years, I’d think what she said was a line. But I do know that, and I know she’s a good person, so her compliment is genuine and meant to be taken for what it’s worth and nothing more.

Just wish I could believe it.

“Where to next?” Vin grumbles as we walk to the parking lot.

“The studio.” Not that I want to go there.

Don’t get me wrong, making music is what I was born to do and I love doing it, but doing it in a band that has been slowly falling apart since I got sober is killing me at the same pace.

And I sure as fuck don’t want to go to the studio to meet with those guys as well as our manager to discuss what they don’t know is going to be my final album, and whatever the hell else Grady wants to talk about.

To be honest, I really want to skip this meeting and go straight to our after school special secret stop.

I grin as I open the door to the Escalade.

Yeah, that’s going to be the best part of both of our days, no doubt about it. I just hope it doesn’t blow up in my face when we get there.

I have a lot riding on this stop, more than I can really wrap my head around, to be honest, but it’s time. Time to do what I should have done years ago before I let everything go to shit.

No one said digging yourself out of a hole was easy, but I’m pretty confident I’ll manage.

If I don’t, I might as well just start burying myself now.