He snatched the bag from my grasp before I could finish my sentence. He rustled through it, then removed a box from the inside. Alec sucked in a sharp breath when he realised what I had gotten him.
“You did not!”
I most definitely did.
“Alannah!” He beamed as he removed his brand new, extra-large Harry Potter Mischief Manage cup from the box. “It’s huge!”
“That’s what she said,” I answered, making everyone snort.
Everyone except Alec, who walked inside the house, brought his cup over to the kettle and switched it on. I followed him, leaned on the counter, and together, we waited for the kettle to boil. When the switch flipped, Alec popped a tea bag into his new cup, filled it with boiling water, and leaned down and watched the blackness fade, revealing the secret footsteps and popular Harry Potter book quote.
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.
“I’ve missed this so much,” he said and looked at me. “Thank you.”
I nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“Now.” He grinned, his grey eyes shining. “Never fucking touch my cup again.”
I grinned. “No promises.”
“No promises, Lord Alec,” he corrected.
I scowled. “I still think it was a fluke that Tyson barked and ran to find you when Keela’s water broke.”
“You lost the bet, stick to your terms. You have to call me Lord Alec for one whole month.”
“I hate ye’ … Lord Alec.”
Alec beamed. “This is one of the best days of my life. I want you to know that, demon spawn.”
I huffed.
“You all need to admit that I’m the baby whisperer and the dog whisperer. Things would just be easier if you accept the gift that is me. I’m a blessing. I’m practically a modern-day Jesus.”
“You can’t be a modern-day Jesus.” I rolled my eyes. “You only have fifty followers on Twitter.”
Alec grinned. “Jesus only need twelve.”
My eye twitched. “Damien?”
“Yeah, freckles?” he called.
“Your brother is comparin’ ‘imself to Jesus … again.”
“Just go with it, freckles.” Damien laughed as Alec tugged me back out to the decking with his new prized Harry Potter cup in the air for everyone to see. “Just go with it.”
“I want to make this very clear,” Alec said, gaining everyone’s attention. “Alannah is not allowed to touch my cup. Ever. If you see her drink from it, touch it, or even look at it, then you are to revoke her tea privileges when she visits your houses. Otherwise, I will withhold my fine looking redheaded son from you all.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, and so did everyone else.
“Sorry, Lana,” everyone said in unison.
I understood their betrayal. Enzo was too cute and won over me any day, but his father, on the other hand, had just ignited a fire within me.
“War,” I told him. “This means war.”
“Bring it, chicken legs.”
“Aren’t you glad you’re marryin’ ‘er?” Bronagh asked Damien as Alec and I continued to glare at one another
“Bee”—Damien laughed—“you have no fucking idea.”
COMING SEPTEMBER 18TH, 2018
BROTHERS
A Slater Brothers Novel
By L.A. Casey
DOMINIC
PART ONE
Present day…
When you had five children, sleep was very hard to come by. Sleeping in on the weekends? That was practically unheard of. I was a trier, if anything, so ever since I first became a father fifteen years ago, I attempted, every single weekend, to catch a few extra Zs. My wife, and mainly my know-no-boundries children, made it their personal mission to make sure I didn’t.
“Daddy?”
I refused to lift my eyelids as I grumbled, “Go away.”
“Come on, Daddy. Get up.”
I snored. Loud.
“Daaaaaaddy?”
I groaned but kept my eyes shut, hoping the kid harassing me would give up and leave.
“I know you’re fakin’ it.”
“Go bother your mom,” I half pleaded, snuggling into my pillow. “Please.”
I felt tiny, soft hands touch my bare back, and that was when the let’s-pretend-dad-is-a-drum game started.
“I don’t wanna play with a girl. I want to play with you. You’re stronger than Mammy.”
I chuckled gruffly before I rolled onto my back, halting the drum game my son had started. I reached up and rubbed my eyes before I opened them and stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. A ceiling that had multiple stickers of stars and moons stuck to it from when Georgie was a baby. I turned my head to the left and came face to face with my actual baby. I reached over, gripped under Axel’s armpits, and heaved him onto the bed, making him squeal with laughter. He was the youngest of our five, our last child. My baby. He was spoiled rotten because of this.
“Your mom is plenty strong. Why don’t you want to play with her?”
“I’m not talkin’ to ‘er anymore.”
He said this as he sat directly on my chest, making me grunt.
“Why not?”
Axel scowled. “She keeps callin’ me a baby.”
My lips twitched.
“You don’t think you’re a baby?”
“I just turned seven,” Axel said, puffing his chest out with pride. “I’m not a baby, Daddy.”
I grinned at him. “Your mom doesn’t mean anything when she calls you baby, son. It’s just a habit from when your brothers and sister were little. She even calls me baby now and then … Do you think that I look like a baby?”
Axel considered this, then giggled. “You’re definitely not a baby.”
He spoke as he poked at my abdominal muscles. Muscles that at thirty-eight were still tight, toned, and very defined. My love for working out never faded as I got older and neither did my wife’s adoration for my body, so I made sure to keep everything tight and toned because it made her moan on sight.
I loved hearing that woman moan.
I yawned. “Is Mom still in her pjs?”
“Yup,” Axel said, popping the P. “She said she’s gettin’ a shower when ye’ wake up.”
“I better go downstairs and relieve her then. What do you say?”
Axel looked down at me, a brow raised. “Are ye’ goin’ to kiss ‘er again?”
“Do you not like when I kiss her?”
He shook his head. “She’s my mammy.”
“And she’s my wife,” I countered, grinning.
“I was in ‘er belly,” Axel deadpanned. “Beat that.”
Easy.
“I put you in her belly.”
He stared down at me. “How?”
I hesitated, wondering if he was too young for the talk that I had given to all my other kids at various ages, but Axel’s attention switched to flicking my nipples and laughing when I flinched. He crawled off me when I playfully swatted his hands away, then jumped off the bed and ran out of the room shouting, “I woke ‘im up, Ma!”
I shot into an upright position. “You said you wanted to play!”
“I lied,” Axel shouted as he reached the stairs. “Mammy said I’d get the biggest cookie ever after dinner tonight if I woke ye’ up. Sorry … not really, though! Cooookkkiieeee.”
I kicked the blankets off my body, before turning to the left and hanging my legs over the bed. I snorted as I heard my wife praise our youngest at the bottom of the stairs for waking me up. I wasn’t surprised that she enlisted our kids’ help; she always had them scheming when she didn’t want to do something. She said it was one of the perks of having children.