Page 3 of Slice

“I like LB,” Slice said. “Do you guys want to crawl up here, too?” Slice asked.

They both nodded and crawled up into the recliner. He was a big guy, but he moved a little so both boys could cuddle against his chest near LB. They all watched LB finish his bottle, then Micah took the bottle to the kitchen while Slice burped LB.

“I can burp, too,” Isaiah said and proceeded to burp the alphabet A through G before stopping.

“That’s impressive,” Slice said, smiling at the young boy. He seemed a tad small for an eight year old. He was missing a tooth in the front.

“Did these hurt?” Isaiah asked, tracing Slice’s arm tattoos.

“Umm, a little. I recommend waiting until you’re an adult because then you’ll be sure you like them.”

The boys both nodded, then stared at him. He wasn’t sure what they were thinking. Isaiah nudged Micah, but both boys kept quiet.

“I think LB needs to go back to sleep. Do you need to sleep, too?” Slice asked.

“Yes. Mom wants us to,” Micah muttered.

“But it’s our first Kissmas with gifts. What if we sleep through Kissmas?” Isaiah asked, with his forehead scrunched in worry.

Aww, Slice could understand now why they were out here with him. He was guessing they’d come from a bad situation, and Slice remembered the lack of hope in those same types of situations he’d experienced. Wanting with all his heart to be loved and have clean clothes and food, but at the same time, worried it would never happen.

“Faith and I won’t let you sleep through Christmas. She seems really nice, even though I just met her. Does she act like she’d let you sleep through the biggest holiday for toys?” Slice asked.

Micah shook his head. “No, she’s really nice. We always have food, and the house is warm.”

“And clean clothes,” whispered Isaiah.

Slice’s heart hurt that the basic necessities were something these boys noticed because they hadn’t had them before. He wanted to wrap all three of them up and make sure they never wanted for anything, along with getting to know the lush, gorgeous woman down the hall.

“Well, I think we can trust her to help us wake up so we don’t miss Christmas. How about we all head back to sleep now? We want to be rested for the fun, right?” Slice asked.

He waited to see what the boys would do, and then the boys nodded. Slice helped them off the chair, then stood up with LB on his shoulder. He walked them back to their room, then helped them get covered up before leaving to put LB in the crib.

Faith was standing in the hallway. Before Slice could explain, Faith smiled at him.

“Thank you. It’s good for them to see a big, strong man being gentle with a baby and them,” she said. She patted his hand, and Slice wondered if she’d say anything else, this woman who had welcomed him in without a thought for herself. She kissed LB on the top of his head, turned, and headed back into her room.

He had a hard time keeping his eyes off her round ass in the pajama bottoms.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the magic of Christmas or something else, but each moment in this house kept surprising him. It almost felt like a dream. As if once the sun rose, everything would disappear. If he wasn’t feeling the weight of LB in his arms, he’d wonder if he was really here.

He needed to get LB back to bed and then catch a little sleep before it was morning. He was looking forward to tomorrow. He didn’t ever remember anticipating Christmas after he went into foster care. The vague memories he had of his family before that time had faded over the years. He could still remember bits and pieces about his mom—like her always smelling like bread baking.

She’d been a baker. She’d baked pies, birthday cakes, cinnamon rolls, cookies, and all sorts of sweets for people. She’d also washed, dried, and ironed clothes for money. His dad hadn’t ever seemed to hold a regular job; at least, that was how Slice remembered it.

The woman, the baby, the kids had him feeling things he’d never felt before. He had a special place for these kids, having grown up himself in foster care in group homes. He had fond memories of his mom before she passed, but going into the foster care system at eight had been eye-opening. He’d been placed with a few different couples over the years until being moved into a group home at eleven. Both couples had not beenin it for the love of kids like he could already tell Faith was. It had been a money maker for them, and Slice had been lucky if he’d gone to bed with his stomach full. Most times, he’d gone hungry until he got the breakfast the school provided. The group home had been overcrowded and understaffed. There wasn’t any way the workers could keep an eye on everyone. Numerous fights broke out, and Slice had learned to defend himself early on. Until he’d hit his growth spurt, then everyone left him alone.

Slice shook his head. He didn’t need those thoughts in his mind tonight. He’d joined the Army as soon as he was old enough. He’d found a family in his team and a purpose. Protecting his country had fed his protective instincts and given him a sense of honor. The same sense of honor and hope he’d found when he came to Bluff Creek. He was going to move Heaven and Earth, if needed, to ensure Little Buddy never went through what Slice had, if Slice had anything to say about it.

Chapter Two

Faith slid the French bread breakfast casserole in the oven to bake. It was a new recipe, and she was hoping the boys liked it. She had also slid bacon in the oven to cook. She’d cut up the fruit last night and tried to keep it easily ready for the boys. They had been in a horrible situation before coming to her six months ago. They had finally started gaining weight. Both had been malnourished and neglected. They were a long-term placement, and she hoped they were learning what a safe home was like.

Watching Slice with the boys last night had brought tears to her eyes. This huge man had taken the time to let the boys cuddle on his lap with Little Buddy and then promised them he wouldn’t let them sleep through Christmas.

In another world, Faith would be falling for him because, besides being smokin’ hot, he had the personality to match. But she knew what she looked like and what men wanted. She’d had enough of men saying,Faith, you’d be a beautiful woman if you’d lose at least sixty pounds. Faith, why don’t you eat asalad sometimes? Faith, have you considered working out?Of course, she didn’t say to them what her brain was thinking.

Stu, have you ever thought of trimming those nose and ear hairs so they don’t look like a rat’s nest?Or,Phil, how about brushing your teeth and tongue?She’d wondered how exactly he got his breath to smell like cow patties. If she were a different type of woman, like the women of the bail bonds in town, she would have smacked both men upside the head with her purse, but she wasn’t. She was a quiet, introverted bookworm who loved to cook, bake, and teach kindergarten.

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