by Sean Michael
“Just rest for a bit. Together.”
“Sure.” Alex found his hand and twined their fingers together. “Do the girls often come to you at night?”
“Daisy will more than the others. She has night terrors. They’re getting better as she ages. She can remember more than the other girls.”
“Oh, that’s sad. This is Rosie and Daffy, though, right?”
“Yes. Daisy, Daffodil, and Rose. Melissa is in the living room.”
“Someone was into flowers,” Alex noted.
“My sister. She wanted to add Ivy and Iris, but she didn’t have time.”
“So Mel is yours, right? Were you in denial?”
“I was a teenager. I was still figuring things out. We’d had sex a couple of times, and it wasn’t working. Then she came to me and said she was pregnant.” He’d never been so scared. Never. Well, maybe when the nurse had come out and handed Mel to him.
“Wow. I guess it was working well enough,” Alex teased, giving his hand a little squeeze. “So she’s not in the picture at all?”
“No. She never wanted Mel. She’s a doctor now and happily childless. We’re friends on Facebook. Melissa met her once, and there was no connection. She pays child support, even, but she’s busy and focused on other things. I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”
“Yeah? You get it?” Alex didn’t sound like he did.
“We were babies ourselves. I think she imagined she would see Melissa and fall in love, but she didn’t. She didn’t even want to hold her. Her parents moved her out of town when Mel was three months old. She signed her parental rights away when she turned eighteen. Me? I did fall in love. I mean, I was a kid, but I knew I’d protect her forever. I knew it.”
Alex’s smile was fond, and he nodded. “I think I knew that about you. You’re a good man, Ryan.”
“I’m a good dad. I hope that I’m a good man.”
“I like what I’ve seen so far.” Alex touched one finger to his thigh, still holding his hand.
Ryan smiled, Alex warming him all the way through.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got some pajamas I can borrow? I didn’t think to bring any.”
“Of course. Let me get you some soft pants, huh?”
“That would be great, thanks.” Alex slipped out of bed, his clothes totally rumpled.
Ryan pulled out a pair of supersoft, comfy pants and a T-shirt. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Alex brought the clothes to his face and breathed them in. “They smell like you.”
“Oh….” Ryan stepped closer, leaning in to beg a kiss.
Alex met him halfway, lips sliding along his. Little sparks of sensation danced where their skin met.
“Thank you for being here.”
“Thank you for trusting me with your family. It means a lot that you recognized you could.” Alex kissed him again, then leaned their foreheads together, seeming to be breathing him in as well.
“Come on and let’s get some coffee, hmm?”
“You sure you don’t want to get more sleep?” Alex asked, waving at the bed.
“Come sleep on my side?” Because he could cuddle. Nothing icky—just cuddling.
“Sure. Sounds cozy and better than coffee just now. I usually save caffeine until after sunrise.”
“Right.” Ryan climbed back into bed, nudging the babies over gently so that Alex had room.
Alex climbed in next to him and slid one arm around his waist. “I do love the way you smell.”
“Thank you.” Ryan snuggled into Alex’s throat, inhaling deeply. It felt good having another grown-up to support him. Having someone to be close to like this. “I mean it. You don’t know how nice this is.”
“I might. I’m enjoying it too, you know.”
“Good.” He chuckled, and the laugh turned into a yawn.
Alex laughed softly at him. “You need to get some sleep. Go ahead. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
Alex’s laughter faded, and looking into his eyes, Alex nodded. “I do. I won’t go anywhere until you wake up.”
“I’ll make you breakfast.” Eggs and pancakes, maybe.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Alex kissed the tip of his nose.
Ryan nodded, his eyelids going heavy, his dreams wrapping around him like a blanket.
When he opened his eyes again, daylight was streaming through the window, and Alex’s head was on his shoulder. If he wasn’t mistaken, the man was drooling.
“Popsy? Popsy, my froat hurts,” Daffy croaked. “There’s a stranger.”
At her words, his little Rosie started to cry.
“Shh. This is my friend Alex. He’s here to help. Who wants some orange juice?” He opened his arms, two little girls with fevers leaping at him.
“You guys don’t remember me from last night?” Alex asked.
“Uh-uh.” Rosie’s thumb slipped into her mouth.
“I’m Alex.” Alex reached around him and offered his hand to Rosie. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Rosie took Alex’s hand and shook it. “I don’t feel good. Can we have a jammie day, Popsy?”
“You read my mind. Pajamas and hot cocoa and snuggling on the couch with blankets.” It would be the easiest way to corral everyone.
“That sounds like a fun way to spend a Sunday, no matter the reason.” Alex smiled. “Are cookies involved with this?”
“We have oatmeal ones,” Daisy said. “Daddy, it hurts.”
“Orange juice and meds for all.” He stood, girls in his arms.
“Can I help?” Alex asked, following him to the bathroom. “I could help here or get stuff moving downstairs? Whatever you need.”
“Can you pour orange juice? I’m going to start the medicine doling and make sure Daisy’s ready to come to the living room.”
“You got it, Ry.” Alex dropped a quick kiss to the top of his head, then headed downstairs.
Ryan dosed two girls with Tylenol and antibiotics, then went to check on Mel and Daisy. Daisy just needed the antibiotics—her fever had definitely broken. Mel, on the other hand, was still miserable, her eyes and nose so red.
“Meds for you, girlfriend. Here, hold Daffy. It’s jammie day.”
“My throat hurts, Popsy.”
“I know, sweetie. The meds will help. Daisy’s already almost over it.” Of course, the little ones seemed to burn through things more quickly.
He started Beauty and the Beast and rounded up blankets. Then he grabbed the bottle of vitamin C and took a couple before taking them to Alex.
Alex had six glasses of orange juice poured and on a tray, along with a package of saltines. He was heating milk up in a pot on the stove. God, that was so dear. And weirdly wonderful.
“Vitamin C?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, please. I think a half a bottle along with the orange juice should help ward this sickness off.” Alex gave him a wink and held out a hand for him to put some vitamin C in.
“God, I hope so. I have some Emergen-C too.”
“I’m feeling okay, so I’ll just stick with the orange juice and vitamins for now. You need help taking the glasses and crackers into the living room?”
“I got it. I’ll be back to make breakfast in a second.”
“I saw you had some of those cinnamon buns in a can in the fridge. I was thinking I could throw that in the oven and call it breakfast? They’d go great with the hot chocolate.”
“You sure? That would make things easier, for sure.”
“That’s what I’m here for, right? To make things easier.” Alex nudged their hips together, then tossed back the vitamin C and one of the glasses of juice.
“Thank you for this. I know you didn’t have to.”
“No, but if I hadn’t, I’d be an asshole.” Alex nudged their hips together again, then went to the fridge and got out the roll of cinnamon buns.
“Popsy! I’m thirsty!”
“One of her majesties has spoken, Popsy.”
Alex chuckled softly. “They’re adorable princesses.”
“They can be, yes.” Ryan headed in and started passing out juice, starting with the sippy cup for Rosie. He had them all medicated and juiced in moments. He was pulled in to sit in the middle of the couch, Rosie in his lap and the other three cuddled up against him as much as they could.
So much for going to give Alex a hand. He hoped he would be forgiven.
He would always be a dad first.
Chapter Eight
ALEX BROUGHT the hot chocolates into the living room and left them on the coffee table. It would take time for the scalded milk to cool down enough to actually drink. He gave Ryan a smile and Daffy a wink, then went back to check on the cinnamon buns in the oven.
They only needed a moment longer, and he waited for them, thinking about Ryan and his girls. The man was a good dad. A really good dad. He was also a sweet man. Alex knew he could get hooked. Hell, he thought maybe he’d already taken the bait.
The oven dinged, and he took out the rolls, moving them over to a plate. He found some plastic plates in a cupboard, grabbed them, and took them along with buns into the living room.
Ryan had made room for him on the big sectional, and as soon as he put the plate down and sat, one of the little girls leaned into him.
Even hot, sweaty, and sick, they were totally adorable. He put his arm around her. He was pretty sure this was Daisy. This wasn’t the first little girl he’d held—the kids in the villages where he worked broke his heart on a regular basis.
These girls weren’t in desperate need, though. Just eager for connection.
He focused in on the TV. It was an animated movie with a girl and dancing dishware. He was pretty sure he’d never seen this one before. “What are we watching?” he asked quietly.
“Beauty!” the littlest one said. “Beauty and the Beastie.”
“Ah. And is that the beastie? The candelabra with a face?”
“That’s Lumiere. He’s Cogsworth’s boyfriend.”
“Who’s Cogsworth?”
“The clock!”
“Ah. The one with the little mustache.”
She nodded.
“Cool.” He hadn’t realized that cartoons did same-sex relationships. But it was cool that they did.
“Who’s Mrs. Potts going to get married to if Lumiere isn’t her boyfriend, then?” That was Daffy, he was sure.
“She’s totally into the wardrobe. She’s buff and curvy in all the right places.”
“Melissa, be nice.” Ryan was cackling.
Alex began chuckling. Maybe the kids were teasing their dad, but so far he couldn’t say either of them were wrong.
“Can I have a cinnamon roll, please?” Ryan asked.
“You totally can.” If there hadn’t been any kids in the room, he’d have fed it to Ryan himself, one mouthful at a time. He shook himself and handed over a roll. “Anyone else?”
“Please.” God, Ryan had polite girls. The only one who refused was Melissa, who looked miserable.
He doled them out and grabbed one for himself. It was good—gooey and warm and cinnamony. He looked over at Ryan and grinned at the icing on Ryan’s lips.
Ryan licked them clean, so unselfconscious, so hot.
Alex managed to bite back his groan somehow. He turned his attention back to the cartoon, focusing on the weird dancing stuff to keep from springing wood.
Somehow he ended up with a little girl snuggled into him, sound asleep, holding his hand. He looked over at Ryan, gave him a smile. Look at him, being all domestic.
“Jammie days are the best, huh, Rosie?”
“Uh-huh. Love you, Popsy.”
“I love you, baby.”
God, that was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. Alex gave Ryan another smile before turning back to the screen. He tried to follow along—he did—but he had to admit, the princess thing wasn’t really his style, and he half dozed through several songs and a bunch of angry villagers.
“Popsy! Popsy, hold me.” Little Rosie launched herself into Ryan’s arms. “They hurted the beast!”
“People do that with things they don’t understand,” Alex noted.
“People suck.” That was the teenager.
“They do.” He had to agree. But his agreement was qualified. “They can be amazing too, though. I’ve seen a lot of people do good things, help where it was needed.” He tried to counteract the bad in the world as much as he could.
“Yeah, I guess. Right now, everybody sucks ’cause my throat hurts.”
“You want your hot cocoa? I bet it’ll feel good going down.” Most of the kids had only had a little bit of their hot drinks, dozing and watching the movie instead. He grabbed her cup and tested the outside of it. Barely warm, but he thought it should do the trick.
She nodded, slowly sitting up. “Thanks, Mister Alex. You rock.”
“High praise,” Ryan murmured.
“I’ll take it.” He knew teenagers were harder to please, harder to win over. A little kindness was all the little ones needed, in his experience. Older kids, not so much. Especially if they were poverty-stricken, starving, or otherwise hurting on a daily basis. He shook off that sadness but noted that he needed to get back to looking for more funding soon. He needed to help where he could.
He sighed softly, and Ryan looked over at him. “You okay? You need another sweet roll?”
“I’m fine, but yeah, another sweet roll would go down a treat.” There were two left on the plate. It felt decadent having not only one for breakfast, but following it up with another. “Who else wants another? We can split what’s left up in as many parts as we need to.”
None of the girls wanted one—the little ones wanted colors and coloring books and kisses, and Melissa just stayed curled up with her cocoa.
“Will you have the other one?” he asked Ryan. “I can warm them up.” He was used to doing more to help than he was. Of course, there were usually more than just four kids and one adult to help too.
“I don’t need it warmed up, but thanks. I haven’t eaten a hot meal in fifteen years.”
“Hey, we had dinner out the other night—that was hot.” Still, that was pretty sad. He’d have to see what he could do about making sure Ryan got more hot food. Ryan was clearly a wonderful father, but he seemed to be lost in it, giving everything to the girls and leaving very little for himself.
“That was… an intense meal.”
“It was. So was last night, although I do have to admit, you only got half of that hot. The sandwich never did quite happen, did it?” He took a bite of his cinnamon roll. It had been better warm, but if Ryan wasn’t warming his, then neither would he.
“It was worth missing.” Ryan wasn’t quite looking at him, but there was a smile there.
“Yeah, it really was.” He cleared his throat and went back to his cinnamon roll. The little ones seemed absorbed in their coloring, but Mel was just sitting there, and he didn’t want to say anything Ryan would be unhappy to have her overhear.
Ryan lifted one arm and let it rest against the top of the couch cushions, fingertips almost brushing him. He relaxed at the touch. If Ryan didn’t want the girls knowing about him, he wouldn’t be here.
“Do you want to color, uh, Popsy’s friend?” the girl he thought was Daisy asked.
“You can call me Alex if you’d like. And I would like to color if you’ll pick the picture for me.” He glanced at Ryan, making sure that was okay. Mel had called him Mr. Alex, but that was so… formal.
“Alex. I have a friend at school named Alex. She’s a girl, though.”
“A lot of names could be a boy or a girl’s name. I’m not sure that yours could be, though.” There weren’t many flowers that worked as a boy’s name.
“Nope. Although you can have any name you want. You can be whoever you need to, so long as you’re a good person. That’s what’s important.” She sounded very sure.
“You�
��re absolutely right. Your Popsy has done a very good job as your father.” These were definitely good kids. It made him admire Ryan all the more.
“Uh-huh.” Just that. Right, of course, no question.
“So what do you want me to color for you, mademoiselle?” He wished he remembered which girl she was. He knew the youngest was Rosie and the oldest Mel, but he was determined to know for sure who was Daisy and who was Daffy.
“A daffodil. A rainbow daffodil for me.” Ah, that made her Daffy, not Daisy.
He took the page she’d torn from the coloring book and smiled at her. “I can totally make a rainbow daffodil for you.” And now he’d always remember what her name was. “Do you like unicorns too?” he asked as he grabbed the purple and started coloring the outside edge of the flower.
“I love unicorns! You wanna see my favorite one? Daffy buyed it for my birthday!”
“Bought,” Ryan corrected immediately, and she rolled her eyes.
“Bought it.”
Alex managed not to laugh at the exchange. He nodded for her instead. “I do want to see it. Can you bring it to me?” Someone was feeling a lot better, and it was good to see. Sick children broke his heart.
“Hold this.” She shoved a coloring book in his hands and scampered off, Rosie at her heels. Daisy watched them both, then shook her head.
“Silly girls.”
“Because they like unicorns?” Daisy wasn’t that much older; surely she still believed in unicorns and other make-believe things too.
“No. Unicorns are pretty.”
Mel grinned. “We’re the big sisters, you know. We’re sophisticated.”
“Ah, I should have seen that from the start, of course.” He gave Daisy a little bow, still managing not to grin or laugh at her. How did Ryan not crack up all the time? “What would you want me to color for you?” He traded the purple crayon out for the blue one.
“You should use your own imagination. It’s important.”
“But what if I color one that you don’t like?” He carefully added the blue in before grabbing the red crayon. He wondered if he should bring coloring books and crayons on his next trip down to Haiti. They were always so worried about building supplies and food and that sort of thing, but kids needed to be kids too. And something like coloring books had to be universal.