Mannies Incorporated Page 4

"Just leave it. I'll deal with it in a minute." Slayde didn't need to take care of his messes; he was entirely capable.

  "You ready for some help up?"

  "Uncle Slayde! Movies!"

  "Just a minute, guys."

  "No. I mean I can get up myself." He sat up to prove the point, refusing to give in to the dizziness, and going to his knees and then holding on to the sink as he stood.

  "Man, you're soaked. You need to sit on the toilet?"

  "I didn't think the tub was that full." It had felt like only a couple of inches. He hadn't been looking for the damn boat that long had he?"

  "No worries. It happens." Slayde sat him down, cleaned the floor under his feet. "Let me get the kids settled downstairs and I'll come back."

  "You don't need to take care of me." The man was already overworked, Drake could see that.

  Slayde didn't answer, he just got the kids moving. "Come on. Momma will be on the computer soon."

  It was all quiet in a moment and he looked at the mess. Fuck, he'd screwed this one up pretty fucking badly. At least he hadn't drowned Christian. That had to count for something. Sighing, he grabbed a couple more towels and tried to mop up the rest of the mess on the floor, his clothes soaked and dripping.

  It didn't take long before Slayde was back. "I got this. Go get changed and I'll put the towels in the wash. Mindy'll be on Skype soon."

  "And you'll want to talk to her. I can get changed and deal with this. Really." He started taking off his shirt, because honestly, that had been a good idea. "I'm not going to make extra work for you."

  Slayde didn't answer; he just gathered the towels, headed downstairs.

  Great. Now the man was pissed off at him again after he'd tried so hard to get Slayde to finally accept his help.

  He took off the rest of his clothes, leaving them on the floor so he didn't drip anywhere else, dried off and headed for Mindy's room. But of course, his bag wasn't up there yet. Great. All he had to wear was…Mindy's robe. Mindy's silky, frilly, pink robe.

  He didn't exactly have an alternative, though, did he? Not unless he called down for Slayde to bring up his bag and damn it, he wasn't going to do that.

  Sighing, he put the thing on -- it went down to just low enough not to be showing his junk -- tied it in the front and headed downstairs, hoping to zip over to where he'd left his bag and get back up again without being seen.

  Slayde was on the stairs, his bag in hand, eyes huge. "Uh. Here."

  Shit. He felt his cheeks heat. "Thanks, man." He mumbled the words, grabbed the bag and high-tailed it back up and into Mindy's room. Great. Just great.

  Slayde had to think he was the world's biggest moron. And he hadn't done a damn thing all day to prove otherwise.

  ***

  Christ on a crutch.

  "How's it going?" Mindy looked too amused.

  "Great. He looks fab in your robe."

  Her eyes went wide and Slayde winked. "Kids are ready for you, Mom."

  "You're evil," she informed him as the kids came rushing over and he settled them in front of the computer.

  They talked and chattered and he listened with half an ear. Drake didn't come down the entire time. The man was either hurting more than he'd said, or embarrassed at being seen in Mindy's robe. Not that Drake had anything to be embarrassed about, from what Slayde had seen. The man was a stud.

  Mindy didn't waste her time talking to him, despite his opening salvo, she was focused on her babies. He supposed he should go check on Drake. Just in case the man was hurt worse than he'd let on.

  "I'll be right back, kiddos." He ran upstairs, grabbed the rest of the wet towels and stuff. "Drake, you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm good." Drake came out of Mindy's room in jeans and nothing else. "Feeling a little stupid."

  Yeah. Yeah, he got that. He did. Abs of steel. Made his mouth dry. "Happens. Mindy's talking to the babies."

  "Oh, good, so at least they didn't see Uncle Drake in all his pink glory." Those abs rippled as Drake spoke. Fucking rippled.

  "Yeah. They wouldn't care." He couldn't help but wonder if Drake's size showed everywhere.

  "Maybe it would have even won Maggie over."

  "Maybe. She likes pink." Okay. Okay, focus. "I'll get back to work. Glad you're not hurt."

  "What needs doing after the kids are done with Minds? I swear I'll be more help than I was at bath time." Drake rubbed the back of his head and winced.

  "I'd hate to see you in the shape you'd be in if you were in worse shape."

  "It wasn't that bad!" Drake glared at him.

  "No? You sure about that?"

  "Shit, you're busting my balls over water and bubbles!"

  No. No, he hadn't been. He'd been teasing, okay. Okay, fine. "Whatever."

  "Whatever… Right." Drake rolled his eyes. "So, you needing help with anything or what?"

  "I got it." Asshat. He headed back downstairs, grabbed Jenny, who was wandering, looking for him. "Did you all say good night to Momma?"

  She nodded. "Say g'night t' Unca Dake."

  "Yes, ma'am." He looked in on Christian and Maggie, who were sitting on the couch together watching the Wizard of Oz for the ten thousandth time. "I'll be back for you next, Maggalooni."

  She smiled at him and snuggled in closer with Christian.

  Then he took Jenny up the stairs, meeting Drake on his way out, this time with shirt. "Jenny would like a good night hug."

  Drake beamed at her and opened his arms. She leaned over and Drake took her out of his arms. "Hey, Jen."

  "Read me book?"

  "You bet. Have you got a favorite book in your room?"

  She nodded. "Slayde?"

  "Go on, baby girl. I'll be in to tuck you in."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise."

  Looking pleased, Drake carried Jenny off to the bedroom.

  He headed down to pick Christian up, the little boy was sound asleep, Maggie still watching the movie. He could do her after instead of first.

  "You're next, girlfriend."

  She nodded, thumb in her mouth.

  He tucked Christian in, turned on the Batman nightlight, and headed in to kiss Jenny. Drake was sitting on the floor, Jenny curled up in his lap as he read Goodnight Moon to her. He knew the book by heart, and so did Jenny, who recited along happily.

  When it came to the end, she clapped her hands. "Again! Again!"

  Drake chuckled and went back to the first page, starting over again. She'd have Drake sitting there all night at this rate.

  "Spoiled girl. One more time, then bed."

  Drake was the one who answered. "Yes, Boss."

  Jenny just waved.

  He cleaned up the kitchen, listening for the Scarecrow to sing, that was his cue. He danced in, arms open to Maggie. "You ready, Dorothy? You and me, the yellow brick road?"

  She laughed and climbed up into his arms, her head landing on his shoulder.

  "Follow the yellow brick road," he sang, dancing her up the stairs.

  She sang with him, softly, almost asleep. He eased her into her bed, then patted her bed.

  "Book?"

  "Let me kiss your sister and I will." She'd be asleep before he got back.

  He went into Jenny's room, finding Drake still sitting on the floor with her, head nodding, Jenny fast asleep. Lord.

  Slayde scooped Jenny up, put her in her crib, nudged Drake. "She's asleep."

  Drake jerked and scrambled back, eyes wide for a moment. Then he grunted. "What? Oh. Okay."

  "Shh." He tucked Jenny in, checked on Maggie who was sleeping hard, and sighed. Then he headed downstairs to grab a glass of wine and his phone. It was still nice enough to sit outside after dark, if he didn't mind a little sweat.

  Drake followed him down. "So that's it? Kids are in bed so it's free time?"

  "I've been at work since six-thirty this morning. It's after eight now. Is thirteen and a half hours a day not good enough for you?" He was going to lose it.

  "Jesus Christ, you are t
he most prickly bastard I've ever met, and I'm a cop so I've met my fucking share. I was just trying to get the lay of the land so I knew whether there was shit I needed to help you with or if that was it for the fucking day." Drake glared hard.

  "That's it. I'm off work until the kids wake up, barring emergencies." He sipped his wine, holding on to his temper with both hands. Sorry bastard comes in, throws off his schedule, insults him, and then tries to pretend he's prickly? Fucker.

  "Fine. I'll get out of your fucking hair then." Drake turned on his heel and headed toward the front door.

  "Are you always this easy to get along with? Mindy never said you were a giant bitch-fest of an asshole."

  Drake whipped around and headed back toward him. "I'm a giant bitch-fest of an asshole? I show up here to help you out, to help take care of my sister's kids, and you act like I'm the last person you want to see. You act like my coming here has been the worst fucking thing that could have happened to you and the kids. So excuse me for living."

  "You are a drama queen and a half. Are you sure you're not queer?"

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

  This was the part where he got his ass kicked, he guessed, so he might as well make it worth it. "Well, you show up, unannounced, call me names, stomp around and snarl and act like I'm the fucking outsider here." He finished his wine. "I was in the delivery room when Jenny was born. I was there for all three first steps, first words. I potty trained all three of them. I'm here. I'm family."

  "So am I!" roared Drake. "I'm their uncle, Mindy's brother. You can't make me go away, not even by being an asshole."

  "I swear to God, if you wake those kids up, I will beat your ass."

  "You see? I can't do anything fucking right according to the almighty Slayde." Drake snarled and turned on his heel, once again making for the door.

  He rolled his eyes. Jesus, he was tired. Why couldn't Mindy have a family member who was fun to talk to? An adult person who was reasonable?

  Of course, she wasn't close with her remaining parent, maybe Drake was just a chip off the old asshole.

  He'd expected Drake to slam the front door, but it closed quietly. Almost loudly quiet, if that made any sense. A moment later he heard the sound of a motorcycle, which quickly faded away.

  Huh. So much for help.

  He grabbed his phone, dialed his boys. God, let them not be fucking. He really needed a friend.

  Chapter Three

  Something jumped on the bed with Drake, waking him and making groan. Shit, he probably shouldn't have had that third beer. Which was the only reason he didn't lash out at the intruder and threaten to shoot them.

  He cracked open an eye and managed to swallow another groan at the sight of Christian, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, beaming at him.

  "Uncle Drake! Good morning!"

  "G' m'ning," he mumbled.

  "Uncle Slayde made waffles!"

  Not for him, he was guessing. "Sounds good, kiddo."

  "Come on!" Christian tugged at his hand.

  "Okay. You go ahead and I'll be down in a minute." He'd shed every stitch he was wearing when he'd fallen into bed last night, including his underwear.

  "Okay. Uncle Slayde said apple juice or orange?"

  "Orange, please. And coffee?" He gave Christian a smile. "Tell him I said please."

  "I will!" He got a grin and then the little boy was running. "Uncle Slayde!"

  He heard a distant, "Don't you run on the stairs, young man."

  Man, there were five thousand, three hundred, and sixty-four things to think about with kids at any given moment.

  He shook his head and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, not bothering with underwear for now; he'd find a clean pair later. Yawning, he headed downstairs, trying to ignore the way his head was banging.

  The noise climbed up the stairs -- the girls were running around in circles and singing, Christian was brandishing a Nerf sword and wearing a pirate hat. Christ. To add insult to injury, the kitchen was bright, sunshine pouring in through the windows. God had a fucking terrible sense of humor.

  He stumbled into the room and managed a more pitiful sounding than he'd wanted, "Coffee?"

  "Sure. How do you take it?"

  "Black." If he didn't get the jolt, it didn't wake him up.

  "Okay." He was handed a mug. "Waffles are almost done."

  "Thanks, man. I'm not the most, uh…human first thing in the morning." Drinking only made that worse.

  "No worries." Slayde looked fresh as a daisy -- showered, smiling, wearing a pair of jeans and a Sesame Street T-shirt. It was insane. "We tried to let you sleep in. The kids have had oats already this morning."

  This was sleeping in? Crazy. He managed not to say that, though. "I appreciate that."

  Slayde nodded, whistled. "Breakfast, guys."

  "I heard there were waffles." Was there nothing Slayde didn't do?

  "Waffles, bacon, eggs." The kids each got a quarter of a waffle, a tiny bit of scrambled egg and a piece of bacon.

  Drake sure hoped that Slayde had planned on him eating more than that.

  He got two full waffles, bacon, eggs. Oh, thank God.

  "This looks really good." It did.

  "Thanks."

  He couldn't help but notice that Slayde never sat to eat. His plate was on the counter, a bite going in as he worked, helping with syrup, wiping sticky fingers, refilling sippy cups.

  "So, what's the plan for today?" If he asked for the whole day's plan he couldn't get in Slayde's way, right?

  "It's Wednesday. Wednesday is library day and I promised we could eat lunch at the park. Then someone told me they wanted macaroni and cheese for supper."

  He looked at the kids. "It wasn't me." He gave Christian a wink.

  "No. Me," answered Christian. "With hot dogs in it."

  Oh, gag.

  "Isn't that nice." Maybe Slayde would let him order them something for the grown-ups.

  Christian nodded, grinned. "Macamaronis and hot dogs! Yay!"

  The girls cheered. "Yay!"

  He chuckled and glanced at Slayde. Slayde grinned, grabbed a cup of coffee, hiding a smirk. Slayde could go ahead and smirk, Drake had plans to not have to deal with macamaronis. Of course, Slayde was a grown man who had been having to eat nothing but kid food for four weeks, five? He'd bet the man would love something spicy, rich.

  He could find an Indian place, or Mexican. Go pick it up if they didn't deliver and have it appear at eight-thirty.

  "Would you like to come to the library with us? To our picnic?"

  "Sure thing. I'm good at reading."

  "Would you be willing to take Christian to his reading group so I can take the girls to toddler read along?"

  "Sure, just you and me, that'd be great, won't it, Chris?"

  Chris nodded, munching his bacon, then added as soon as he'd swallowed, "My name is Christian."

  "Right. Okay. Christian." He'd remember. "Bacon's my favorite, though the waffles are pretty damn good."

  Christian looked at him, eyes wide. "You said a cuss."

  "I did?"

  "Uh-huh. You have to do pushups."

  "Pushups?" Was Christian for real?

  Slayde nodded. "That's Momma's rule. Ten pushups per curse word."

  Ten pushups per curse word? Seriously? He chuckled. "I know my sister -- she's done a lot of pushups, I bet."

  "You know it. Way more than me."

  Christian looked at him. "Give me ten."

  Laughing, he dropped to the ground. "You're going to count, right?"

  "Uh-huh." Christian watched and counted as Drake popped out ten.

  "How's that?" he asked Christian, grinning. He could do push-ups in his sleep.

  "Good. You can have the rest of your breakfast."

  "All right." He hopped up and sat at the table again, digging into the rest of his waffles. "These really are great." He looked over at Slayde to smile his thanks.

  "Thanks." Slayde ate as he cleaned, loo
king over at Maggie. "Three more bites and you can get up."

  God, didn't the man ever take a break? It was like he was OCD, married to this schedule of his and the kids'.

  "'kay, Uncle Slayde."

  Jenny was smearing syrup over her high chair.

  "Hey, kiddo, that's not paper or colors." Drake grabbed some paper towel and began cleaning her hands. Wow, he'd beaten Slayde to something.

  "Colors?"

  "If you want to draw you should use paper and crayons or something, not highchairs and syrup, Jen."

  "Colors!"

  "Maggie, one more bite. Jenny, no yelling. Christian, are you done eating?" Slayde swapped out high chair trays, handing him a clean one. "Crayons and paper are in that drawer. No coloring for the other two until they're done."

  "Yes, sir." He winked and found the crayons and the paper, put them on the clean tray -- Slayde had extra high chair trays for fuck's sake. "There you go, kiddo."

  "T'ank you." She looked so serious. "I draw picture for sister."

  "Yeah? A picture for Maggie? What are you going to draw for her?"

  "Mommy."

  "Oh…" He smiled at her. "That's great."

  She started scribbling, Christian took his plate to Slayde, and Maggie started crying.

  "Hey, what's wrong, Mags?"

  She looked at him and started crying harder and Slayde looked at her, eyebrow raised. "Margaret Elise, either tell me what's wrong or stop. It's library day."

  The little girl stuck her tongue out, a little blood on it. Oh, ow.

  "Oh, you bit your tongue." Drake got up and went to the freezer, grabbed an ice cube. "Here, put this on your tongue, honey."

  She looked at Slayde, who nodded. "Uncle Drake loves you, kiddo. Try it."

  "Trust me, it works." He took another piece of ice and put it into his mouth to prove that it wasn't poison or anything.

  Maggie sucked on the ice, lips pursing. God, she looked like her momma. He watched for a minute, just watched.

  Christian wandered off, Jenny colored, and Maggie sucked the ice. Then she stopped crying.

  He grinned. He'd done that. Him. She almost -- almost -- grinned back.

  Slayde took her plate. "Would you like to draw now, Maggie?"

  Drake went over and grabbed a couple pieces of paper and gave her some of the crayons from Jenny's tray.