Their Little House Colter (Five Little Roommates #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ari

My littles were the sexiest thing on two legs—each. And I wanted to have them in my arms and my heart and my bed as often as possible. But it was also a lot of fun to have a little evening, at home, at Chained, or even at the bowling alley, which Chained had rented out for a full three hours just for the daddies and littles.

Colter and Dallas were so excited when I picked them up at the little house to take them to the bowling alley for our special outing. Bridger and Hudson and all of our other friends were coming, too, and Ms. Lily had ordered special bowling shirts for all the littles with the funniest cartoon bowling pins looking terrified at the ball rolling toward them, on the front.

When we got there, my littles beelined for the snack bar, where there was already a line, and since everything was included in the modest fee we’d paid for the evening, the only thing I had to do was watch to be sure they didn’t make themselves sick on “free” hot dogs, nachos, candy bars, popcorn…and soda. “New rule, guys,” I told them as they were about to place their orders.

“Yes, D-Ari?” Dallas asked, eyes twinkling. They really liked having some rules. It was a Chained outing, and they were pretty close to little space, but not all the bowling alley employees might understand, so we were being cautious with addressing me. “What’s the rule?”

“No more than two things and a drink each trip to the snack bar.”

“How many trips can we make?” Colter was studying the menu, plotting his strategy no doubt.

“One for now, and maybe another after we bowl.”

Dallas’ lower lip moved out into a pout, but I frowned at him and he giggled. “If we eat too much, we might barf all over the lanes!”

Littles around us all groaned and looked to their daddies who made rules of their own. Nobody wanted barf all over the lanes.

In the end, Colter got a hot dog, nachos, and a grape slushie to drink, and Dallas got a hot dog, popcorn, and a cherry slushie. We sat at a little table by the snack bar while they ate then found our lane just as the music and lights kicked in.

“This is so fun!” Colter said. “We’re going to win all the prizes.”

Each daddy/little team was eligible to win the door prizes brought by Ms. Lily, and since I had two littles, our scores would be averaged in some way for fairness. It didn’t really matter because I had a feeling no little would leave empty-handed. Not in an event planned by our Ms. Lily.

Lucky for us that was true because although we had a great time, we were not the most skilled of the teams, and our scores were on the sad side. But after we all bowled our frames, we gathered at the snack bar again for the awards.

“I’m getting ice cream and a cheeseburger,” announced Colter.

“Bowling makes me hungry,” agreed Dallas. “I’m having a corn dog and a fried pickle.”

“Oh, I want fried pickles!” Colter quickly changed his order to ice cream and the pickles, and I could only hope his stomach was iron clad enough to survive it.

“Everyone ready?” Ms. Lily stood up and waved her hands. “Time to give out the awards.”

“Pretty sure we didn’t win,” stage-whispered Colter.

“Let’s start with the highest-scoring team of the evening.” Miss Lily held up a trophy shaped like a unicorn. “Bridger and Hudson, come on up here.”

I never knew littles would love trophies so much. As the awards were handed out, one by one, they cheered for each other. Best form, best attitude, best bowling shoes, best plaid shorts, it went on and on until nearly everyone had a trophy…except us.

Colter and Dallas looked at each other and linked hands. I prayed they wouldn’t be missed, although I still had faith in Ms. Lily.

“And finally, the best friends award to Colter and Dallas and of course Ari. They played fairly, with great sportsmanship and never got upset even when they had gutter balls.”

The cheers were even louder than before, and I hugged my two littles hard before letting them go up to get the “bestest award of all,” according to Dallas. And I couldn’t have agreed more.

Both of my littles fell asleep on the way home, and nobody got sick. I took them to my house, helped them undress, and tucked them into bed before collapsing beside them. Rumor had it, there would be a mini-golf event soon, and we’d be there to show friendship and sportsmanship again.

But next time, no fried pickles and ice cream. Nobody barfed in the lanes, but one little boy had quite a tummy ache and needed a cup of mint tea to settle it late in the night.

The next day, my pro bono client received a huge settlement, something I hadn’t been sure of at all because the other party was not only incompetent but a liar. I couldn’t wait to share the news with my men. They were the best support system a daddy, an attorney, a partner could have.