Jaylen Brown Dad Novels & Stories

Jayden laughing "So sunshine, tell me apart from your parents who else is in your family?" Janet's eyes lightened up "My junior brother Johnson and his son Damon" "Your brother is married?" "No, he got a girl pregnant about four years back. He was just barely nineteen back then" "Nineteen?" "Yes" "Your brother is a sharpshooter" Janet pretended to throw her napkin at him "He denied it at first, but later he said he is going to take a DNA test as soon as he can afford it " "So did he?"

He asked now, pushing his glasses to the top of his nose bridge. Justin nodded confidently. "You could always ask Mr. Brown, who is the head of Brown International and father to Anne, my fiancée, to verify my words." As he said that, he cast a deliberate sidelong glance toward Luna, as if he hoped that she would be hurt by his announcement that Anne was his fiancée. However, she was impassive and she still had her nose buried within the pages of the textbook. After a pause, Jayden felt for his phone as he said, "Let me check."

She still keeps in touch with MJ. Baby Jay, named after his father Jared, just turned two years old. MJ is pregnant with baby number two. Doctors have said this one is a girl. Jay takes his red hair and blue eyes after his mom. But his features are all his dad. Once MJ and Jared had their son, Jared's parents moved closer to spend more time spoiling their grandson and soon granddaughter. Jared was still a professional quarterback. They have a nice home, and a little yorkie named Bella. They only live forty five minutes from the MC clubhouse. The MC has asked Jared to prospect for the club, but he politely declined. Sports are his life, and MJ. MJ was happy with the decision.

I ask, out of a sudden. Jayden raises an eyebrow. “Why are you asking?” “I’m just curious because he spends almost all day outside the building, so I’m wondering if he goes to see someone.” “He doesn’t have anyone here,” says Jayden, picking a bag of charcoal for the barbecue. “His mother and sister live in America.” “And his father?” Silence. Jayden doesn't say anything for a long moment. He keeps putting things inside the cart until he stops and turns to face me. “He died in prison six years ago.”

The dad is not Ronan. "Juicy. Keep me posted."

MY MOM DIED FOURTEEN YEARS AGO MELANIE~~ What the heck do this bitch us gonna hold my dad smiling sheepishly, this is a complete mistake. I and my dad are the only one at home the bitches and bastard left for where I know not. My dad is taking a nap while I'm on my phone reading the daily gossip and headline. Bryan Dills stock is on free fall in his most famous company J&J.

She could refuse Jarrel. But not Jarshel. Never Jarshel. “That boy is dangerously charming,” Jess teased. “It’s amazing how he grew up so well despite not having a mother.” Kai smiled, but the ache in her chest lingered. Because deep down, she knew—that was her fault, too. … “Jarrel is a good father. I can tell.” Jessielyn smirked. “You mean the ruthless, hot Jarrel Grayson?” She giggled. “If you had been here the past few years, you’d be so jealous of all the rumors about the women he’s been with.”

* * * After the day at the park, Jevan drove Jason and I home. "Daddy, are you going to marry mommy?" Jaaon asked when we pulled up to the apartment. "Jason.. your mom and I are just friends," Jevan answered poorly due to being caught off guard by the sudden prompt question by our inquisitive son. "So you're not marrying mommy?" Jason asked again. "Jason, your father and I aren't a couple anymore but we still love you and he's still going to be your dad." "But I want a real daddy," Jason pouted.

“Daniel Garcia.” Mr. Brooks’ smile sharpens slightly. “Ah,” he says. “So you’re Lila’s father.” There’s something about the way he says it that makes my skin crawl. “And you are?” my dad asks. “The father of your daughter’s boyfriend,” he says. “Tyler.” My dad’s brows lift slightly. “Oh.” Mr. Brooks notices the shock on my father’s face, and he thrives on it. “They’ve gotten quite close,” he continues casually. “Your daughter and my son.”

They step aside when they see Damian. No words. No nods. Just immediate obedience. Damian pushes open the door, and Eli feels the shift in temperature before his eyes even adjust. Then he sees him. Marcus Blackthorne. Damian’s father. A man with silver hair pulled back, eyes sharp enough to slice skin, posture as perfect and rigid as a blade. He doesn’t look like he ages—more like he calcifies. He sits at a long table, a crystal glass untouched before him. When he lifts his gaze, Eli feels it physically.