Chapter 3 #2
“Thank you – it feels better already.” And maybe he’d just said it to let Victoria keep thinking that Ian was magical, but he’d be damned if it didn’t feel a little better.
She smiled, the expression arch, as if she was saying, “See? I knew it.”
He nodded, not sure what to say to them, what to talk about.
“So, see? He’s nice. He wants to get better so he can play with you.”
JP nodded. He did. He figured he could play with the twins. He was good at playing. He’d made a fucking career of it. “I like to play, guys. We’ll have so much fun. I know we will.”
They were so much bigger since he’d last seen them, but still so small. Little perfect humans. It was kind of unreal and amazing at the same time.
“Can you read us a story?”
Michael was right. Victoria was fearless.
“Sure. What story do you want me to read?” That did actually mean read and not invent from scratch, right?
Peter tugged Ian’s shirt, and his husband knelt like a goalie. Flexible fucker. He whispered something in Ian’s ear, and Ian nodded.
“How about Dragons Love Tacos, Tori?”
“Yes!” She took off like a bat out of hell, thundering up the stairs. How did someone so bitty make so much noise?
“Dragons Love Tacos?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. This was not the storybooks of his childhood.
“It’s Peter’s favorite. It’s about dragons and tacos and what happens—”
Peter tugged Ian’s shirt again. “No salsa for dwagons!”
Okay. He was confused. But that was okay, because he was going to read them the book, right? Right.
Victoria came thundering back down the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants. “Dragons Love Tacos!” she yelled, waving the book over her head.
“Tori. Love. Inside voices, please.” Ian sighed and rolled his eyes. “She’s not the best at that.”
“It’s okay. I’m not trying to sleep right now.” He gave Ian a wink. “So do guys want to come sit on the bed while I read to you. I just need you to be careful of my leg.”
“Are you sure?”
“We’ll be good, Daddy!” Tori announced, at the top of her lungs, while Peter just nodded.
Okay, cool. He shifted so they had room to sit up with him by his upper body, and patted the bed. “Do you guys need help getting up?” If they did, that was going to be on Ian.
“Daddy will do it.” Tori looked at her father and held her hands up. “Me first.”
“You first. Right.” Ian eased her up on the bed, then reached for Peter, who looked terrified.
“It’s okay, son. I promise. He won’t bite even a little, and I’m right here.”
Peter glanced at him and at his sister, eyes huge.
JP had to admit, that hurt. He knew the kids didn’t know him because they hadn’t even been a year old when he’d been traded, but surely he didn’t seem like a monster. “I don’t bite,” he agreed.
“‘mere brudder. I ‘tect you. I’m strong.” Tori curled her arms and made a muscle.
“Look at that,” JP said, hoping he sounded suitably impressed.
Obviously it worked, because she beamed, and Peter came to sit beside her. Those were his babies, and this was the first time he’d read them a bedtime story.
He sucked.
He read the book with some voices. The thing was funny and he wound up laughing more than once.
Tori watched him, focused and laughing with him. Peter started flagging early, his eyelids going heavy.
Soon the little boy was sleeping, resting hard against his side and hip.
Wow. That was an incredible feeling, the trust, the sweet, warm body snuggled against him. Why hadn’t he insisted that Ian come with him to Florida again?
Why had he let everything fall apart?
None of it made sense.
By the time the story was done, Ian was dozing in the chair, and Tori rolled her eyes. “Silly boys.”
He chuckled. “I’m a boy too,” he reminded her. Of course he was probably the silliest of all for reasons she didn’t even know.
“Oh.” She shrugged. “I read now?”
“You can read?”
“Uh-huh.” She grabbed the book. “Dragon hungry for the chicken-bird. Dragon eat the taco. Fire!”
He laughed again, her version almost better than the actual book. “Very good,” he told her. He was supposed to encourage the reading, right?
She beamed at him. “You like hamburgies or tacos?”
“Do I have to choose? I like both.” He liked food. Period. He’d yet to meet something he didn’t like. Well, as long it wasn’t burned or cooked with salt instead of sugar, things like that. Of course, it looked like Ian didn’t do that so much anymore.
“I likes noodles wif chicken-bird, cheese, and butters.”
“That sounds good, too. I like food. That’s why I got so big.” His mom had always said he was going to eat them out of house and home.
“Uh-huh. Me too! You like…doggies?” She was so awake, so focused. So damn funny.
“Doggies are hot dogs, right?” He didn’t want to say yes if she was testing him and meant actual dogs.
“Uh-huh. You like yellow stuff or red stuff on ‘em?”
“Yellow stuff. Mustard. I like mustard on them.”
Her eyes went wide and she chewed on her bottom lip. “Is hot, m…man?” She stopped, blew out a hard breath. “What you name? I’m Tori.”
“I’m…” He took a deep breath. He was going to start out like he could hold out. “I’m Dad.” Because he had decided, sitting here having a conversation with his daughter while his son dozed against him, that he was going to fight for this.
“Dad.” She frowned for a second, then her eyes went wide as if a lightbulb went off. “Like Daddy! Dad and Daddy!”
Damn, she was smart. “Exactly like that.”
“So…you love me?”
He looked at her for a long moment, and then he nodded.
He’d never just stopped loving the kids – or Ian - he’d just…
put them out of his mind. Like an idiot.
Like an asshole. “I do. You’re my daughter, and Peter’s my son.
” And if Ian hadn’t wanted him to tell her that then he should have stayed awake.
“Oh. Okay. I love you too.” She leaned in, head on his shoulder. “You read to us tomorrow-day?”
“Sure. I can read you tomorrow too.” He lay there with the two of them curled up against him, wondering again why he gave all this up. Oh, that’s right – hockey. He gave up Ian and the kids for hockey. It had seemed more important at the time.
It had been all-encompassing, and he still didn’t know what he was expected to do now, but…
He had his babies in his arms.
And until he’d healed that was going to have to be enough.