Page 75 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

“Love you, Dad,” I whisper. “Don’t be mad. ’Kay?”

He kisses my scalp. “How could I ever stay mad at you, baby?” He rocks me for a while, and I stay here, drunk on Dad, until another set of arms wrap around me from behind.

“Bennet,” I whine. I swear, as many times as they do this, it never gets old. There’s just something about being crushed by pure, unfiltered love to lift one’s spirits. “Where were you? Missed you so bad.”

“Tummy issues,” he whispers.

I cringe. “Please don’t talk about number twos. You know I don’t like acknowledging that either of you do that.” They snicker at my words, because they know about my aversion to all things poo. The longer we stand here, wrapped up in each other, the more at peace I feel. I don’t know how long we stay like this, but eventually, Dad pulls away.

“I have a surprise, boys. A big one.”

“You’ve got a big everything, Daddy,” Bennet teases.

And, as if his words are the kiss of life, Dad’s dick swells to life, and all I can do is hold Bennet’s hand and try to prepare for whatever hand Dad’s about to deal us. Looking over his shoulder, Dad searches the store—for what, I’m not entirely sure. To my surprise, it’s empty now; I guess our cuddle session weirded the customers out. Oh well. Like I told Dad earlier, too bad, so sad.

Dad turns and walks toward the entrance, leaving Bennet and me with a sense of utter confusion, and a delightful view of his ass. When he reaches the entrance, he grabs the metal grate and pulls it down to keep anyone from wandering in. When he turns around, his cheeks are red and his hands are shaking. Slowly, he takes a step forward as Celine Dion’s “The Power of Love” begins to play behind us. I turn and look over my shoulder, but there’s no one there.

As he approaches, Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out two small black boxes.

I can’t move. I can’t even think. I’m too overwhelmed with hope that I can barely see straight.

“Boys,” Dad starts as Celine sings about holding on to someone’s body. “I’ve got a question to ask, and I’m really hoping you’ll say yes.”

When I look over at Bennet, there are tears in his eyes. I lift my hand to wipe one away, but another just takes its place. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, Bennet. Daddy’s here. I’m always going to be here.” He clears his throat, pulling my attention off Bennet and back to him. To my surprise, he kneels in front of us, holding a box out for each of us. They’re flipped open, and inside, two small silver bands rest in each. “I wanted all of us to have two. One for all three of us.”

As Celine belts out that she’s someone’s lady, I want to shout that I’m Dad’s man, because I am. We both are.

It’s funny, really. Before we met Dad, we always worried we’d never find a Daddy to love us both the same amount. Nate’s not just our daddy, though. He’s our dad, and dads aren’t supposed to have favorites. Nate would never choose a favorite, because he loves us both the same.

He lifts his left hand, showing us the two silver rings he has on his finger. Back to back. Side by side. No space separating them. Just like his Bens.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sons,” he says to Bennet, then to me, “I swear to God, I’m going to make you both so happy. I’ll make sure you never have to question if you’re loved again.”

Celine’s on the next verse now, but this feels like more of a chorus moment, so I shoot Bennet a pleading glance, begging him to wait it out. Dad’s triplet powers mustn’t be working right, because he doesn’t seem to understand what we’re doing. I hate to see him look so worried.

“Hold on,” I whisper. “We need the song to get to the big part, so it feels more—” Celine cuts me off when she hits the chorus, and Bennet and I both lunge forward, wrapping ourselves around Dad, screaming, “Yes,” repeatedly, at the top of our lungs. Customers are waiting at the entrance, unable to enter thanks to the metal gate, but I don’t care. Let them wait. If the world was ending and this was the only safe place left on Earth,I’d let every one of them burn instead of removing myself from Dad’s embrace.

Bennet’s weeping softly into Dad’s chest, so I rub my hand up and down his back, telling him I love him, reminding him he’s ours. There are footsteps behind us, but I don’t pull back. Don’t care who’s back there, just want Dad.

We stay locked like this for another few minutes, none of us speaking. Dad’s the first to pull away, and when he does, he holds a hand out, over our heads. I look back and spot Tatum resting on Kincaid’s hip behind us, smiling warmly as his husband fingers his asshole. Tatum’s holding a stack of papers, and he hands them over to Dad. Has he been hiding in the back? Who cares? Doesn’t matter.

“Congratulations, Dad,” he says. “I’m happy for you. Truly.” He stares down at us with a genuine smile. “I’m still not calling either of you Dad.”

My heart flutters. I still can’t believe he’s so supportive of our relationship. It’s been nine months since our big revelation, and while it took him a bit of time to get used to, he couldn’t be happier for us. He calls to check on us every day. We message him throughout the day to discuss Real Housewives. It really feels like we’ve forged a family of sorts.

I reach up and squeeze his leg, because it’s the only thing I can reach. “We’ll see, son. We’ll see.”

As Tatum groans, Dad chuckles. “Boys?” He waits for us to turn around and look at Dad with a wide, sexy little smile. I kind of want to slip my dick between those pretty pink lips. I probably will tonight.

He licks his lips.

Yes. I’ll definitely be doing that tonight.

“The papers came in last week. I thought of telling you the day they arrived, but then I thought . . . no. My boys deserve better than that.” He hands a stack of papers to each of us. Themoment I see the wordAdoption, I lose it. I fall to the floor, hurting my butt a little, the papers scattering every which way. Bennet’s at my side in an instant, petting my hair, telling me it’s okay, swearing that this is real and not some horrible fever dream. Then Dad’s right beside me, kissing my face, telling me how much he loves us, promising to never let us go. As soon as Tatum and Kincaid join the fold, my tears stop, and I’m crushed by the levels of love circling around us, warding off the rest of the world.

Before we met Dad—back when it was still just me and Bennet—I used to pray for this. I used to sit in my bed at night and dream of having a family of my own. Now I’ve got one. Now we all do.

Dad brings his mouth to our ears and whispers, “All or nothing. Beginning to end. Forever and ever. That’s us. That’s me and my Bens.”

The End

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