“Just kill it!” my wife pleaded. “Oh, God. Kill it.”
Kill what?
I looked at where Keela was pointing, and when I saw the man-eating tarantula gliding towards me, I screamed louder than my wife. I used the umbrella in my hand as if it was a sledge hammer, and I beat the life out of the spider. After a solid minute of blind swinging, I came to a halt and inspected the floor. The spider was there, and it was unmoving.
I exhaled a nervous breath.
“I fixed that problem, didn’t I?”
Keela, whose hands were on her hips, shook her head. “Ye’ did well, husband.”
“I wasn’t even scared.”
My wife rolled her eyes as I hunkered down to examine the spider.
“Aw …” I frowned. “I amputated one of his legs by accident.”
Keela, who was still on top of the table, said, “I wish ye’ had decapitated the little fucker.”
I looked up at her. “It seems pointless now that he’s dead.”
She grunted, clearly disagreeing. I looked back down at the spider.
“It’s not even that big now that I’m close—OH MY GOD!”
A very manly roar rose from my throat when the dead spider came back to life and ran towards me—no doubt with murder on his mind. He was down one leg, but that loss of the limb seemed to fuel him because he was moving rapidly around the floor, zigzagging from left to right as if trying to confuse me. He was waiting for an opening to spring on me so he could strike a death blow. I knew he was because if I were in his position, I’d do the exact same thing. I sprung onto the kitchen counter just to get away from him. I threw my umbrella at him when I had a clear shot, and it hit the little fucker square on and squashed him.
“Ha! Come back from that, asshole!”
Things were quiet for a moment, then side-splitting laughter came from my right.
“I almost died, so what the fuck do you find so funny?”
“You,” Keela cackled. “Ye’ practically leapt onto the counter.”
“He was running at me. Did you see how fast he moved?”
“I thought ye’ weren’t scared?”
“I thought it was dead!” I argued. “Of course, I wasn’t scared when I thought it was dead.”
Keela continued to laugh.
“How did you even get up there?” I quizzed as I jumped down from the counter. “Did you use a chair to step up on?”
“Nah,” she answered as I moved in front of her and lifted her to the ground. “I saw the spider and just hopped on it.”
“Oh, yeah?” I waggled my brows, tugging her body against mine suggestively. “I’ve got something else you can hop on, and it’s a whole lot bigger.”
“Please,” my eldest son, Enzo, gagged as he entered the kitchen dressed from head to toe in his soccer gear. “Don’t make me sick before I’ve even had me breakfast.”
Keela pushed my body away from hers like I was scalding hot coal, and it only encouraged me to grope her further. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her backside tight against me.
“There’s nothing sick about a man loving on his woman.”
“It is,” Enzo said as he searched the fridge. “When the man is me aul’ lad, and the woman is me aul’ one.”
Keela gasped in outrage. “I’m nowhere near old enough to be called aul’ one, ye’ little shite.”
Our kid closed the fridge door, armed with milk, ready-made pancake batter, and a carton of orange juice. He turned to face us but focused on his mother. His grey eyes, which he inherited from me, gleaming mischievously.
“It’s just an expression, Ma.” He winked. “Ye’ know I think you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I interjected. “Really, Zo? You think slinging a compliment her way is going to get you off the—”
Keela elbowed me in the stomach and cut me off.
“Ye’ think I’m beautiful?” She giggled. “Thanks, son. ‘Ere, let me make your breakfast. I’ll put chocolate chips in your pancakes.”
Enzo leaned his head down and kissed her on the cheek when she moved over to him. “You’re the best, Ma.”
“Punk,” I muttered as he shot a shit-eating grin my way over Keela’s head. “Why didn’t you come running when you heard your mom scream?”
“‘Cause I heard you scream not long after, and I heard the word spider mentioned in the midst of that screamin’. I wasn’t riskin’ me life against a spider for either of ye’, I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never felt such betrayal in all my life,” I said, placing my hand on my chest. “I have no idea how you came from my angelic loins.”
Enzo laughed and nudged by me so he could sit at the kitchen table. I turned to my wife.
“He just had to call you beautiful to get his breakfast made.” I placed my hands on my hips in outrage. “I show you how beautiful you are with this wonderland body of mine, and I get an elbow in the gut. That’s just typical.”
“Hush up. I’ll make ye’ pancakes too.”
“With extra chocolate chips?”
“With extra chocolate chips, big man.”
I perked up. “You’re the best.”
“And ye’ wonder where Enzo gets it from?”
I grinned. “I am nothing if not a great teacher, kitten.”
My wife snorted in response. I leaned down and kissed her neck as she turned to the stove and switched it on. I patted her behind, earning me a giggle, which made me grin. I joined Enzo at the kitchen table and death stared at him as he tapped on the screen of his phone.
“Does your girlfriend still think I’m hotter than you?”
Enzo sighed. “She was never me girlfriend, and she never said ye’ were hotter than me. She said ye’ were hotter than she expected ye’ to be.”
“That’s the story of my life, son. My beauty stuns people; it always has and always will.”
Enzo’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I’m better lookin’.”
“You Slater kids all seem to think that. Jax thinks he’s God’s gift to women, you walk around like your junk is a foot long, and your other cousins are just as bad. Your brothers, too. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you to give you ugly shits so much confidence.”
Enzo laughed at my obvious joke and so did my wife.
“Me sons are beautiful because I’m their mother,” Keela said as she poured pancake batter into a pan. “Your genes just gave them their height.”
And just about everything else.
“I’m thankful for gettin’ his height,” Enzo said as he leaned back in his chair. “Girls think you’re automatically ten times more attractive if you’re tall. And ten times ten just makes me the hottest specimen at school. Jax wishes he was as sexy as me. Me hair alone makes me stand out.”
Enzo was the only one in the entire family to have red hair like his mother. It was curly too, and because it was so wild, he always styled it and kept on top of keeping the length trimmed so the curls only spiralled once. Even I had to admit he was a beautiful little fucker.
“God save me from overinflated egos,” Keela mumbled.
“Some of your cousins have white hair; do you stand out against them?”
“Yup,” Enzo answered me. “I’m the hottest Slater to have ever existed. Period.”
The logic of a fourteen-year-old never failed to amuse me.
“Keep that confidence, my boy,” I beamed at my son. “A woman will surely cut it in half by the time you’re twenty.”
Keela snickered. “Did I cut yours in half?”
“Woman, you did me dirty when we first met. You dissed everything about me.”
“Yet ye’ wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“Have you seen your legs? You could have waxed me bare and used me for a surfboard, and I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Your legs give me life, and the rest of your fine ass body accompanied with your stunning face is just a major plus.”