Page 51 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

As I was about to talk, I saw Anastazia’s face light up like a Christmas tree as she stared over my shoulder. I recognized that look on her just as my brother’s cologne wafted into the kitchen.

“Damn, you got company again?” His deep voice peppered the room as he walked in, shirtless and holding their third son and fourth child Asante.

Sophie and Amir were at school and daycare respectively, while Amare was napping, according to Anastazia.

They’d taken a few years off from procreating after Amare but were now back to it, hence Asante laying in his daddy’s arms now. My brother had all of his kids’ names tatted down his forearms.

“I only had one person over earlier, and that was Scotland so she could do my nails.” She held them out as Asif kissed my forehead just before I pecked my nephew’s chubby cheeks as he lay on one of his father’s arms.

“Let me see.” My brother took her hand in his free one to admire her nails. “I guess it was worth five plus a tip.” He kissed her hands, making her smile just before he bent down to peck her. She bit his lip slightly.

“Hi, baby.” She cooed at her son, making him light up. He was so freaking cute it made no sense. “You look good in daddy mode with your fine ass.” She caressed Asif’s abs as he went to the fridge to pull it open.

“Why you think I walked in here with him?” He hit her on the ass, then frowned at her before trying to secretly mouth ‘You ain’t got no panties on?’ However, I was able to read his lips.

“Stop, Sif.” She fixed her dress as she rested, bent over the counter when his hand gravitated toward her, making her jump.

“You don’t.” He lifted his head after clearly being mesmerized by his wife to address me. “When you leaving?”

“Damn.” I felt my brows bunch.

“Not like that, but she been having company all fucking day, and he about to knock out.” He bounced his son gently, cooing.

“Ain’t you? Gon’ go to sleep so daddy can get some.

I ain’t get none last night or this morning ’cause of yo’ ass.

” He kissed his cheek, grinning down at his baby as my nephew mirrored the gesture, unaware of what his dad was saying.

“See what I deal with?” Anastazia gestured over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Nah, you see what the fuck I deal with. She rubbing on a nigga, complimenting me, biting lips, not wearing panties and shit. That’s what she do, then when I fold her hot pussy ass up and give her one of these, she run off to y’all like I’m the problem.

” He broke it down as both Anastazia and I fell out in laughter.

“No! That’s like ten percent of the time! The other ninety is him!” She defended herself.

“I don’t know, sis, you been on one since he stepped into the kitchen.” I sided with my brother, making her jaw drop.

“Thank you.” Asif grabbed his drink from the fridge, shot her a look, and then kissed my temple before swaggering out.

We chatted some more while I ate a little bit of Low’s food so I could save my own for later, and I promised Anastazia I would do my best not to blow up on Low’s ass unless it was Gaia, to which she cosigned.

“Next time you make the poundcake, can you make me my own, please?” I asked, taking the reusable bag she’d packed my stuff in.

“Of course. You want an extra piece?”

“Hell yeah!” I bobbed my head as she went to the fridge.

“Aye, Mrs. St. Thomas, I gotta talk to you ’bout some shit. Yo’ son is asleep so come tend to yo’ nigga.” Asif’s thirsty ass appeared at the mouth of the kitchen.

“Talk to me about what?” she queried, clearly messing with him, judging by the smirk she wore as she placed an extra square of glazed cake into my container.

“A pipe that’s ’bout to bust.” He ventured into the kitchen, took everything out of her hand, and scooped her up.

“Sif!” She laughed. “Let me put that up and walk her out!”

“I’ll do it later, and she don’t need to be walked out. She not no fucking guest.”

Laughing, I finished putting the top on my stuff as my brother carried his wife out. Being nice, I put the cake back up and the cutting utensil into the sink, rinsing it beforehand.

Coming out of the kitchen, I realized moans were seeping from the laundry room, causing me to hightail it out of there like the house was on fire. I was sure I would have a niece or nephew soon since both Asif and Anastazia said they only wanted one more child, and only if by accident.

As soon as I exited from my brother’s private road, my phone started ringing, displaying my mama’s name on the CarPlay screen.

“Hey, Ma.” I beamed, even though she couldn’t see me.

“Hey, princess. Are you busy?”

“No, I’m just about to go home, relax, and eat this meal I got from Stazi.”

“Must be that poundcake,” she guessed.

“Yep.” I confirmed before we chuckled.

“I wanted to talk to you about mending things with your brothers. I tried to let you do it on your own, but it’s clear that won’t happen unless someone intervenes.”

Rolling my eyes, I responded, “I will be willing to mend things when they can agree to apologize to me as well for their behavior. It wasn’t right for me to do anything in secret, but I did it for my own reasons.

And regardless, I am grown. What I choose to do in secrecy or out in the open is my business.

They don’t think they’re wrong, but they are because, for one, I shouldn’t have to hide shit, and two, they acted like hooligans at that charity event in front of all those people, their wives, and kids. ”

“So I heard.” She sucked her teeth. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Because I knew they would be angry, and I figured if they were gonna be upset, I wanted it to at least be worth it. I wasn’t going to be dealing with this shit, like I am now, and be broken up from Low. It had to be worth this riff.”

“You think a relationship, good or bad, is worth having conflict with your brothers?”

“I do, because it’s a form of control that they’re trying to pass off as caring for my well-being. And had I told them not to be with their wives, or I wouldn’t talk to their asses, we’d be estranged.”

“True.” She laughed. “I agree with you. I think, like your father at one point, they forget how smart and intentional you are. If Low was a bad man, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day, and he especially wouldn’t be your boyfriend.

You’re a beautiful girl, so I know men have been trying, but we have yet to meet a boyfriend of any kind.

That shows you have strict discernment.”

“Exactly.” I huffed, happy my mama saw me in the correct light. “I’m not some flighty, misguided little girl chasing behind hood niggas.”

“No, you’re not. I’m proud of you. When I was your age, I had Khari, Lequay, and Bashar, plus I was pregnant with Cemone.”

I grunted, making her giggle.

“I love my brothers, but I do wish you got to enjoy your younger years,” I admitted, hating that for my mother. I couldn’t imagine having three sons and one on the way at my age.

“Well, don’t feel bad. I was raised to be a wife and mother, so I didn’t feel like I was missing out—at least not until I was older.

I was fulfilled, and then by the time I wanted more, I’d met your father.

That was something that made me fall in love with him; he was mature, but he was also spontaneous and fun, so I could kind of live out what I missed with him while also having a real man. ”

“My daddy? Fun? Can’t see it.”

The two of us tittered at my statement.

“He was and still is, believe it or not. One of our dates was at a strip club. Can you believe that?”

My jaw fell as I tried to imagine my stern, about his business father in a strip club.

“Did he just stand there glowering like he does now?” I grinned when my mother fell into a fit of chortles.

“No, he did not, Banks St. Thomas.” Her giggles continued a bit. “We had fun. I’m telling you, your dad is not just your dad. That’s my man, and he’s a good time.”

“Hmm, well that’s cute, but I love my daddy, and I like to think of him as a frowning old man and not a YN at the strip club.”

“Makes sense.” She snickered. “I just want you to know from what I’ve seen of Low, he seems to be a respectable young man.”

“He is, and you can tell your sons that I only have one father, so until they are willing to meet me halfway with the apologies, we have nothing to talk about.”

“I will.”

“Sif is the only one who pulled me aside to speak to me like a grown-up,” I fussed further.

“Well, give your other brothers some slack. Asif knows Low a little better, whereas your other brothers don’t.

Had Sif not known him, he probably would’ve dropped him where he stood,” she spoke facts.

“They will come around, and if they don’t, I will make their asses.

They’re still scared of me, plus I got my daughters-in-law as backup. ”

“Okay, Ma.” I smirked. “Tell Daddy that Low will be coming by for the four of us to have dinner since he didn’t even extend the invitation like he did for everyone else.”

“You want me to say it exactly like that?”

“I do.”

Chuckling, she said, “You surely know you got your daddy wrapped around your finger. The same man who used to plead with me not to spank you, while keeping your little body shielded behind him.”

I giggled because she was right. My father had never spanked me, and as I got older and more coherent, I would run to him when my mother tried. The few times she didn’t listen and hit me, he would be devastated.

“You know what, never mind. I will tell him myself.”

“Okay, Miss Thang. Text me what Low likes to eat so I will have it ready.”

“Thank you, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Later that night . . .

“You was right, Peep. That fucking poundcake is like crack.” Low lay back in my bed.

We were fresh from the shower after sheet ruining sex, now resting on a new pair.

“Told you.” I smiled.

“Stazi fine as shit, but that’s why the big homie married her and got all them kids,” he joked.

“Here you go with that theory.” I laughed, my ringing phone slicing through my amusement.