Jack: Grime and Punishment: The Brothers Grime, book 1

by Maxfield, Z. A.

  “Just enough to let me know he was hungry.”

  Ryan had dark circles under his eyes. “He’ll probably want to play for a little bit after he eats. We should let him crawl around and explore his toys on a blanket for a while. I need a shower and then I’ve got to go.”

  Jack said nothing. Anything that came out of his mouth would sound like cowardice and begging. He glanced down at Lalo, silently beseeching the baby to be chill while Ryan wasn’t home. As always, Ryan seemed to read his mind.

  “Don’t panic. You’ve got this.” Ryan turned him to kiss his lips. “Say it.”

  “I’ve got this.” Jack hoped it was true.

  Saturday 11:00 - “He bit me on the nipple. Through my shirt. WTF?”

  “Is he hungry?”

  “Oh.”

  Saturday 11:30 - “He won’t stop crying.”

  “Did you feed him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you change him?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Did you put him down for his nap?”

  “What nap? I’m supposed to initiate that?”

  “Did you expect him to ask?”

  “Saturday 14:00 - “I found cartoons. They’re totally different than what we used to watch. There’s barely any violence! Also I’m fucking tired. Feels like pulling a double shift in fire season. How do people do this all the time?”

  “You’re supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps.”

  “What? How? I had to clean and do his laundry while he was sleeping.”

  “Poor Jack. Next time he drops off, get a quick nap.”

  “When are you coming home again?”

  “I’ll bring dinner at 6:30.”

  “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

  Saturday 17:00 - “Seriously? How often do these things eat?”

  Saturday 17:15 – “FML, I look like I walked under a flock of seagulls.”

  Saturday 17:30 - “I have new respect for Skippy and Kelly Ann.

  Saturday 17:45 - “You would totally gag if you got a look at this diaper.”

  Saturday 18:00 - “Does it seem like time is standing still to you?”

  Saturday 18:15 - “Oh, God. It’s like you’re never, ever, ever coming home again.”

  Saturday 18:30 - “Where aaaaaaare yoooooou?”

  “I’m in the driveway. JFC! Gimme a minute. Which one of you is the baby?”

  Saturday 20:00 - “Jack?” Ryan whispered. The snore he got was prolonged and loud. He stifled a laugh while he placed Lalo into his travel cot.

  As a firefighter, Jack worked for days at a stretch, but it only took one little baby a few hours to destroy him. Lalo wore him as thin as those places in his slouchy old jeans that caught Ryan’s eye whenever he shifted snoozing positions on the couch.

  Jack was gorgeous. Fun. Interesting to be around. He had a code Ryan recognized and respected from being a fellow first responder.

  Jack had been a little bitter when they met. They both had. But now, he filled Ryan’s days with happiness and his heart with fantasies that they could maybe make things work, together.

  Ryan didn’t know what Jack wanted, but he’d always believed children were in his future. Time spent with Skippy’s baby detonated an explosion of that desire in his heart, making it almost painful to breathe.

  He had no idea how long he stood over Lalo’s cot, making small circles on his sturdy back before Jack asked, “You okay?”

  He breathed in the scent of a freshly washed baby before he stood. “Sure. Why?”

  “You were so quiet.” Jack sat up and patted the space next to him on the couch. “Sorry I fell asleep. Want to watch a movie?”

  Ryan dropped into the cushions beside him. “Can we do it with the sound off? I don’t want to wake you-know-who.”

  “Sure.” Jack kept his voice low and keyed the remote. “See? Subtitles.”

  Saturday 23:00 - “Jason Bourne’s not the same without gunfire and explosions, is it?” Jack whispered into Ryan’s ear.

  Ryan dropped his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m not sure I was actually watching.”

  “You weren’t, unless you can see out roof of your mouth.”

  Ryan laughed and turned to Jack. “You’ll be amazed by the things I can do with my mouth.”

  “Oh, I already—”

  “Shh.” Ryan turned his whole body and straddled Jack’s lap to kiss him deeply and with serious intent. Jack’s slid his hands up Ryan’s thighs to cup his ass cheeks.

  Behind Ryan, Lalo rolled over and let out a pitiful howl.

  Sunday 03:00 - “Didn’t you say babies Lalo’s age slept through the night?”

  “Eh, your mileage may vary. Maybe they don’t do as well when they’re in a strange environment and teething and their parents aren’t there.”

  “Come on.” Jack picked the baby up and jiggled him. “It’s gonna be okay, Lalito. You’re okay. When did you last give him those drops?”

  “Before bedtime. He’s due for a re-up.”

  Jack picked up his cane. “I’ll get his teething ring from the fridge. He digs that. Don’t you, bubba?”

  As tired as they were, he and Ryan worked pretty well together. After about half an hour, Lalo finally drifted off, and they were able to crawl onto the couch together.

  Ryan pressed his nose into Jack’s neck. “We did good. He’s down for a bit.”

  “That tickles.” Too tired to squirm away, Jack dozed off.

  Sunday 05:00 - For the second day in a row, Jack woke at the slightest sound from Lalo. He found the baby lying awake in his cot, that curious gaze drifting around the room. He brightened obligingly when he saw Jack.

  Some unexpected burst of happiness flooded Jack’s veins.

  Dawn had been Jack’s favorite time of day when he worked as a firefighter. Rising early, cleaning and outfitting the rigs, breakfast with the others from his station—often, that was the most peaceful part of the day. Then rush hour would begin, and traffic accidents with it. They worked till they dropped, often enough.

  His love for the stillness of early morning had never left him. Today, dawn carried new promises with it. A sleeping Ryan by his side, and happiness he’d never believed could be part of his life.

  He slipped outside and down the path to the trees, letting Lalo wave his hand through the leaves, and pat the fruit. He didn’t have enough hands to carry any back with him, but that was okay. He stood in the crisp clean air, eating a perfectly ripe nectarine, and imagined what it would be like if he could do this every day.

  Might there ever be a boy or girl with Ryan’s bright smile and strawberry blond hair in their lives? The sudden want crushed him under its unexpected weight.

  From the baby in his arms to the earth he stood on, to the man who slept on the couch inside, he wanted everything. Wanted it now. Wanted it so badly the desire stung his eyes and burned like fire in his belly.

  Just like with Tasha the cat, Skippy had inadvertently—or purposefully—given him another glimpse at something he didn’t realize he needed until it was essential.

  Jack wasn’t ready to tell Ryan. He didn’t have a clue when he’d be ready. But now that he saw his future, he couldn’t unsee it.

  Grinch, Schminch. Jack’s heart grew ten sizes.

  “Lalo.” He kissed the baby’s fuzzy head. “I think your dad’s positively Machiavellian.”

  Sunday 14:00 - Skippy didn’t bring Kelly Ann with him when he picked up Lalo.

  “How’d your big weekend go?” Jack had packed all Lalo’s things and put them by the door—all but the blanket where they’d been playing with him.

  “It was the best, boss.” Skippy flushed deeply. “Kelly Ann was so happy. We made it an early night on Friday so she could sleep, and last night we danced. She loved my new moves.”

  “I’m really glad you had a good time.”

  “How was Lalo? Was he too much trouble?”

  “Not at all. We gave him some Tylenol for teething. Otherwise he’s been
a champ. How’s your mother-in-law?”

  “She’s still got a little cough. Nothing too bad.” Skippy laid Lalo into his baby bucket and clicked the safety straps into place. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d never have been able to go. Thanks, Jack.”

  “It was our pleasure. Really. He was no trouble at all.” He might have sold the words better if he hadn’t let out a gargantuan yawn.

  Skippy snorted. “Don’t lie. You look like hell.”

  Jack shrugged. “Yeah, well. We’d both do it again. He was fine. He’s cute.”

  “I know, right?” Skippy sounded awed. “He’s fucking awesome, isn’t he?”

  Skippy picked up the car seat, and Jack walked him to his car. His arms felt strangely empty.

  “You know…” Skippy didn’t look up while he buckled Lalo’s bucket into the back seat of his car. “I was wondering if you and Ryan would consider being Lalo’s unofficial godparents. I mean, not like church godparents, but—”

  “Sure. Yeah.” Jack didn’t even have to think about it. “I can’t speak for Ryan, but I’d be honored. Your little monster grew on me.”

  “He kinda does that.” Skippy gripped his kid’s foot and gave it a little jiggle.

  “I’ll talk to Ryan about it.”

  “Thanks.” Skippy met his gaze. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Jack. I wasn’t sure we could make a go of things out here when we moved—”

  “It was a lucky day when we hired you. But I gotta ask. Why the nickname Skippy? Is that what your boys called you back home?”

  Skippy’s eyes lost focus, as if he saw something Jack couldn’t. “No. They called me Chino…it was kind of a racist thing, ‘cause someone said I look Asian once and it stuck.”

  Nicknames came from weird places. “You’re Eduardo on all your paperwork. So why Skippy?”

  “When I first came in, I had to wait for Gabe to end a call. There was a jar of peanut butter on his desk. You know how he eats it with apples?”

  “No shit.”

  Skippy shrugged. “Figured Skippy sounded like the kind of guy who’d get hired, where Eduardo—”

  Jack frowned. “I hope you don’t think that now.”

  “Nah. But I let the nickname stand.”

  “You want me to call you Eduardo?”

  “Nope. I kind of like being Skippy now.” He grinned. “Dude named Skippy’s gotta be harmless, right? Skippy built my new life. Eduardo only ever burned shit down.”

  Jack nodded. “Got it.”

  “This Eduardo”—Skippy indicated his boy—“is gonna be amazing.”

  Skippy waved as he drove away.

  As Jack entered the house, he took in the too-neat living room, listened to the empty space, and wished he could bring Lalo back.

  He took out his phone and texted Ryan. “Skippy came for Lalo.”

  “If the baby human was still alive? Our work is done.”

  Jack couldn’t help a smile. “Going back to my place for a bit. I need to check on Tasha.”

  “Got plans for dinner?”

  “I plan to eat, shower, and sleep for three days.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  They were still young. They had plenty of time.

  But he might as well get the ball rolling.

  Jack replied, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  Afters

  I’m always aware that you have a ton of books to choose from, and I want to thank you for reading mine!

  I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave a review wherever it makes sense to you, on Amazon or Goodreads or your favorite blog sites.

  Reviews really do make a big difference to an author’s visibility in bookstores and on the web. That means you can help me get noticed by new readers every day.

  Thanks in advance for taking the time to help me out!

  Best wishes and happy reading,

  ZAM

  What to read next…

  As for what to read next?

  If you enjoyed Jack’s story, then be sure to read Eddie’s! The Brother’s grime are at it again, and there’s plenty of work to go around.

  This time, Eddie’s got a bunch of secrets.

  Eddie and his niece’s teacher Andrew have dynamite chemistry. But Eddie is profoundly dyslexic, and Andrew lives to read. Andrew is pathologically disorganized, and Eddie likes things neat and clutter-free.

  Andrew is desperately ashamed of his hoarder father, and Eddie is embarrassed by his lack of education.

  When Andrew's father's condition deteriorates and he nearly dies because of his compulsion, Eddie and Andrew must learn compassion begins with loving oneself because Grime Doesn't Pay.

  Here’s a sneak peek to get you started:

  Chapter One

  Eddie checked his hair out in the rearview and gave a final pat to his tie before he got out of his car. His niece Lucy unbuckled herself, got her things, and climbed out of the two-seater, all the while complaining he was taking too long. Of course he was taking too long. They might see Lucy’s teacher, Mr. B. Andrew Daley, and Eddie was determined to make one hell of a good impression.

  What Eddie really wanted was to knock the breath from Mr. B. Andrew Daley’s lungs in the same way the officially awesome Mr. B. Andrew Daley always knocked the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but what could he do? Rome wasn’t built and all. Eddie was holding to his course, making himself indispensable, helping with science projects and chick hatching, and chaperoning farm field trips. He’d become Daley’s official event photographer.

  In all, Eddie had probably spent more time with Daley than he had with any other guy, and he still called him Mr. Daley, for God’s sake.

  Finding a guy on a dance floor who wanted to suck him off was a piece of cake for Eddie “Cha-Cha” Vasquez, but asking a guy on an actual date? He couldn’t remember ever doing that. Was he too old to learn new tricks?

  Asking Daley out was fraught with more tension than he’d imagined.

  “Come on already, Uncle Cha-Cha. How come you keep looking in the mirror?”

  “I’m not.” He turned in time to see one of Lucy’s delicate eyebrows arch up, exactly like his sister-in-law’s did when she was not impressed.

  “You are too. I saw you just now.” She frowned at him. “And how come you’re dressed like you’re taking Grandma to church?”

  “I’m not,” he said. He’d worn his slickest black suit, burgundy shirt, and black silk tie. These were the clothes he looked his best in. He looked GQ good.

  “Are too.” Like all the women in his family, Lucy could see right through him.

  “I just like to look nice.”

  “But I’m going to be late for early bird library.” She tapped her foot on the sidewalk in front of the car.

  “Still like your lunch box?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “No one’s got a lunch box like it, except my spoon and fruit cup clank when I walk.” She held herself back to slip her little hand into his as they walked along.

  “Metal lunch boxes are classic.” He loved seeing her carry a tin lunch box, even if it was leopard-print smiley cat. “So the way you see it, is being unique a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you the kind of girl who likes to have the same things other people have, or are you the kind who likes to be different?” He was quick to add, “There’s nothing wrong with either one.”

  Her brows drew into a thoughtful furrow. “I like some things other people have. My girlfriend Ariana has a plastic polka-dot lunch box that keeps her food cold. Her mom puts in tuna salad.”

  “Tell your mom to freeze your juice box if she’s going to put perishable food in your lunch, and have her wrap everything in a cloth napkin. That will keep it fresh and quiet. Best of both worlds. I almost got you another lunch box the other day with Charlie’s Angels on it. The television show, not the movie.”

  “Mami says you were born at the wrong time.”

  “She did, did
she?”

  “Yeah, she says you should have been born fifty years ago, ’cause you like old things.”

  “Hey, now. I like classic things.” Before Eddie could explain the difference, one of the upper-grade teachers walked up.

  “Hello, Mr. Vasquez. Lucy. How are you this morning?”

  “Just fine, thank you, Mrs. Calvin.”

  Mrs. Calvin nodded to Lucy. “Early library day?”

  “Yes!” Lucy jumped and landed on her tiptoes. “I’m in reading level 6.2!”

  “The kids sure work hard for this,” said Eddie. The top three students in each grade got to spend an extra hour in the library in the morning. The privilege of extra time and extra books was turning Lucy into a first-rate student.

  “It’s been a pretty successful program.” She smiled at him and leaned toward him to whisper, “It doesn’t hurt that there’s contests and prizes.”

  “I won last month, did I tell you?” Lucy asked. “I won Teacher’s Pet pencils.”

  “I think you mentioned that, honey. Once or twice.”

  Or a thousand times.

  “I read the whole first Harry Potter book and took a test on it. I got a perfect score.”

  “Good for you, Lucy. That’s upper-grade stuff.” Mrs. Calvin checked her watch. “Better run along, or you’ll be late.”

  Lucy picked up speed, and Eddie gave a helpless shrug before chasing after her.

  “Cool your jets, Lu-lu. We’ve got plenty of time.” She dashed past the last of the classrooms and headed for the main library doors. By the time he caught up, she was already opening one to go in without a backward glance. “Hey, what do I get?”

  She dimpled prettily. “Thank you for driving me, Uncle Cha-Cha.”

  “Put it right there.” He pointed to a spot on his jaw as he leaned down. She gave him a kiss before turning to run away. “Anything for you, pepita. Have a good day.”

  “Bye,” she said. She must have had her head in the books already, or she would have groused at him. I’m not a pumpkin seed, Uncle Cha-Cha.