Page 72 of Their Little Helper

It was dangerous to get Harley so excited.

But luckily for me, Harley had wonderful reflexes. “Oops.”

As he helped me stay upright, he frowned. “No booboos, Daddy.”

Did he think nearly crashing into the coffee table was my fault?

“You’re right.” No booboos. “But?—”

“Booboos do not get special presents.” Santos sounded remarkably serious saying the ridiculous sentence. “Sit down nicely and I’ll get them.”

Them?

Eek.

“Thud.” Harley didn’t seem worried about us going thud as we landed on the floor in a heap of limbs. “Good boys, Papa. Hurry.”

Santos chuckled as I caught my breath. “Yes, you’re both very good boys.”

I was not a good boy and I was going to thoroughly remind him of that fact, but he cheated again.

The fucker just had to keep doing it left and right.

Every time I turned around he had to cheat.

Matching blankets.

Not only had the drama queen bought both of us pajamas…Harley animal ones and me plaid ones…he’d bought us matching blankets.

We were going to turn out like those weird Stepford families that all matched.

Fucking hell.

Harley sighed.

The bastard cheated by smiling.

Ugh.

He’d Stepforded us and there was nothing I could do but look adorable.

20

HARLEY

Just frown and stare him down.

Air in.

Air out.

Deepen your frown.

You can do it.

They always break.

“Fine. I wasn’t sick, but?—”

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