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“Somebody lied,” Travis said, wrapping his arms around him as he stood in the doorway.
“About what,” Wes asked, shuffling up behind him.
Turning to smile at his husband, Travis said, “That LA is the land of sun and fun. I don’t see any damn sun out there today. All we get is chilly wind and a line of penguins forming on the front lawn.”
“It’d be much warmer inside,” he said, tugging on Marks’ arm, “if you’d shut the front door. Come on, before the girls figure out you have an unsecured exit.”
Travis pondered that for a moment before retreating enough to close the door behind him. “Point. Violet seems to instinctively know when a door is open, doesn’t she?”
“Just like a cat,” Wes agreed. “Or a demon.”
“Hey, don’t you talk about our daughter that way,” Travis threatened, giving Wes’ shoulder a playful push.
“You only argue because you know it’s true.” Wes patted his partner on the arm as he walked away, grinning. It wasn’t often he left Marks speechless, and when he did, he counted it as a major accomplishment.
“Mama,” a little voice said from somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. “Is Papa going out?”
Wes turned his gaze down on his three-year-old daughter. “No, Vi, he’s not. He was just looking at the yucky, dreary day outside.”
“Yucky?” She turned her little head towards the picture window looking out onto their front yard. “What’s yucky outside?”
He made a face, scrunching his nose up as he thought. How do you explain bad weather to a kid like her? Keep it simple, he figured. “It’s cold and cloudy. Brrr.” Wes crossed his arms over his chest and hugged them close, giving a mock chill.
“Oh. Brrr!” She mimicked him perfectly. “I gots it.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said.
That kid, even at three, was way too smart for her own good. She’d be hotwiring the car at eight if he wasn’t careful. The thought of his blue-eyed little terror driving his car down the road brought a smile to his face. But when you considered some of the things her father had done as a kid in the foster care system, it also worried him just a little bit. Hadn’t Travis stolen a car once? He couldn’t remember and was afraid to ask at this point. Hopefully they could teach her to harness all that exuberance for the betterment of society instead of her natural, evil bent.
“You’ve got that look on your face again, buttercup. What are you thinking about now?”
Travis’ voice startled him out of his reverie and left him feeling a little red in the face. That he thought his sweet, innocent little girl capable of something like grand theft auto shamed him to no end. However, the kid had a track record of leaving chaos in her wake. She’d been officially banned from using anyone’s smartphone after a recent incident where she’d texted a picture to her Papa and then promptly misplaced Wes’ phone, sending Travis into a fit of panic. Even so, it didn’t mean she was a felon in the making. It just meant she was a mischievous toddler hell bent on making her Mama nuts.
Her evil plan was working.
“Wes?” Travis put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to anchor him to reality, he figured.
“Sorry, just estimating the amount of bail money we’re going to need to keep on hand for when Violet’s older.”
“Wesley Mitchell,” Marks declared in a mockingly scandalized tone. “How dare you insinuate that our precious little girl could ever break the law!”
Violet toddled by, carrying something in her hand. Her younger sister, Bryony, stumbled after her, a stuffed toy Donkey from Shrek clutched in her hands. He prayed that Bri turned out to be more reserved like her Mama and less impulsive than her Papa or big sister.
“Really? And is that why she just trucked on by with your debit card in her hand?”
“What?” Travis patted his back pocket, checking for his wallet and discovered it missing. “That little thief! Violet, get back here with my debit card!”
Chuckling, Wes watched his husband chase after their children. The girls’ squeals and their father’s laughter floated back to him, lifting his heart. Things weren’t always easy, and they were far from perfect, but they were his – theirs – and they were good with that. Even if Travis had taken up bartering for a third child. Incessantly.
How the hell could he deal with another? The two they had were a match for him already. A third would put him in the loony bin for sure. Travis ran past him, arms in the air, followed by Violet and then, eventually, Bryony as well. By the time Bri had caught up, the two larger terrors had already changed course and rushed past Wes going back the opposite direction.
Feeling a tiny hand on his leg, Wes looked down to find his baby staring up at him, tears in her eyes. “Mama? They weft me.”
Wes frowned, heart torn between laughing at her poor, sad face and wanting to hug the hurt out of her. “I know, baby, but they didn’t do it on purpose. Come on,” he said holding his arms out to her.
She lifted her little arms up in response and he lifted her into the air, settling her onto that familiar spot on his left hip. Bri’s tired head rested against his side, body curving into his. This is what it was all about right here. Bryony’s quiet contentment and his ability to give it all to her. Wes kissed the top of her dark head, loose brunette curls in desperate need of a taming. In moments like this, holding his little one in his arms, dancing to a song only he could hear, he almost thought about giving in to Travis’ hints. Almost.
Wes twirled her around in a slow circle, giving their special little dance a little more life than usual. She’d never liked being rocked much, but she’d always loved being held and whisked across the floor. Maybe Bri would become a dancer, or even a musician, some creative type that lived in the moment, always bringing beauty wherever she went? It was fitting.
“Aw, would you look at her,” Travis said, coming up behind Wes and slipping an arm around him and their daughter. “She’s out like a light.”
Wes glanced down at her upturned face, eyes shut and fingers in her mouth. “She sleeps like nobody’s business.”
“Want me to put her down?” Travis placed a light kiss on the curve of Wes’ cheekbone, teasing a path with his lips.
“What about Violet? Is she anywhere near being ready for a nap?” It was a stupid question, she hated naps like he hated criminals, but there was always a chance.
“Am I allowed to drug her?”
“I guess that’s a no,” Wes said, chuckling. “Go put Bri down and let Violet play. She tends to get into less trouble by herself for some reason.”
Travis came around to face Wes and lifted his baby girl from his husband’s arms. “It’s because she doesn’t have a patsy to blame things on when her brilliant plans go south.”
“You could have a point,” Wes agreed.
Eventually, Violet fell asleep on top of a pile of toys, a teddy bear cushioning her head and the remnants of a Halloween costume acting as a blanket. When Wes returned from putting her to bed, he found Travis lighting candles in the living room, bringing a warm glow to the house. Travis was a sneaky one, that was true, but he also had his sweet, considerate moments, too.
“What are you doing,” he asked, bending over to smell a pinkish colored candle.
“Raspberry daiquiri,” Travis said, lighting another candle.
“What?”
“That candle is raspberry daiquiri,” he clarified. “And what I’m doing is giving us some atmosphere. Make it seem like spring instead of the dead of winter.”
It sounded like a good idea. “Are all these candles scented because, if they are, I hope they’re all compatible.”
Travis looked up, a grin on his face. “Just the red ones are scented. The others are beeswax, which has its own scent, but nothing that will work against the raspberry.”
Good to know. He hated going into those candle stores for that reason – too many fragrances competing for his nose’s attention. The bath shops were the same way, even if he did find them a guilty pleasure he refused to admit to. “What’s the occasion?”
He blew out the match and secured it in the lid of a nearby candle. “No occasion, just wanted to snuggle a bit and maybe share the fizz of a little champagne.”
“Wait, you have champagne?” Wes seated himself in his favorite snuggling spot on the oversized couch.
“Well,” Travis made a face. “Not exactly, but I do have some sparkling cider, will that work?”
“It’s perfect,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. It was actually better because cider wouldn’t leave either of them incapable of caring for the girls should one of them wake up. Not to mention that overindulging in alcohol had been what started all of this in the first place. “Come sit?”
“On my way.” Travis took the used match and box of matches back into the kitchen, reappearing with two flutes of cider. He flicked off the lights and took his place beside Wes.
He took a glass from Travis and leaned into his lover’s side, feeling the warmth of his skin against him, giving comfort and support and reassurance. With his eyes half closed and the flute at his lips, the flickering of the candles began to remind him of fairy lights over the water in summertime. It was a fanciful thought, something that didn’t usually occur to him, only proving the kind of changes his children had made in his life.
“This is nice,” Wes said, sipping his cider.
Travis set his glass on the end table and used his free hand to play with a lock of blond hair. “It really is, we need to do this more often. Just sit and… be together.”
It was a wonderful thought, one he believed Travis meant. He had a tendency to make light of anything serious, leaving Wes to deal with the details of their married life and it made him insane to forever be the responsible one. But when Travis pulled something like this out of the hat, it reinforced his faith in the other man. Marks was no saint, but he was a very good man who mostly tried hard to do the right thing.
Which made Wes wonder what was really going on.
“You sure you’re not trying to sucker me into anything, Marks?” Wes tilted his head up so that he could look into Travis’ depthless eyes.
“Naw, not me, Mitchell. Why would I try and sucker you into anything when I have your pretty little self wrapped round my pinky?” Two dark fingers caressed a pale cheek.
He was totally being suckered, but after a comment like that, how could he argue? Travis absolutely had him twisted around his little finger and he’d let himself get twined there. If he were honest with himself – and let’s face it, he always tried to be – he was holding on tightly to said finger. “You’re always trying to get something past me,” he said, resting a hand on a firm thigh. “More often than not, I play dumb and let you have your way.”
“Like this morning?” The chuckle that followed the statement was lewd and fraught with meaning.
Wes chuckled despite himself. “Well, that’s a little different. I wasn’t playing dumb then, we both knew what you were after there, weren’t we? What I mean are the little things. Like when you follow behind me putting away the skillet when I’m trying to make dinner because you want to go out. That kind of thing.”
“I would never.”
“Oh yes you would, and you do, often.” Wes kissed the strong line of Travis’ jaw, reveling in the presence of his husband by his side. “So tell me, what’s on your mind tonight.”
“For once, baby? I have no ulterior motives. Tonight, I just want to hold you.” He squeezed his arms around Wes’ middle and pulled him close.
“Mama?”
Opening his eyes, he found Violet leaning on the couch with a questioning look on her face. “Yes baby? You okay?”
She nodded her little head, Marks-given curls bouncing carelessly. “I come up?” She looked over her shoulder briefly before meeting his gaze again. “And Bri-Bri too?”
He lifted himself up a bit and spied the younger sister sitting on the floor, mostly hidden by her older sister. Wes gave Travis a look and got a content smile in response. If Travis was okay with it, he could be too. “Okay you two, but only for a little bit and then you go back to bed.”
“Yay,” the two tiny voices cheered.
Wes sat up as Travis took his glass. One by one, he pulled the girls onto the couch, Violet settling into her Papa’s lap while Bryony preferred the security of her Mama. Once the kids were situated, Wes leaned back into Travis’ side, trying to find that sweet spot he fit so well into. Marks’ long arm curved around his shoulders, bringing him right back to where he’d been.
In a word, it was perfect.
“You sure,” Travis whispered in his ear as the girls drifted off to sleep, “you don’t want just one more?”
“We’re out of arms and laps, Trav,” he said, quiet but tempted. “Where would we put a third?”
“We’ll figure that out when he gets here, won’t we?”
Wes licked his lips, not knowing how to respond. “What do you mean?” His heart beat a little faster.
“You know what I mean,” he said, pressing his lips against Wes’ pale throat.
Well, hell.