Page 26 of Merry Little Christmas
There were two versions of Peyton that had no issue in demanding what they needed: Little Peyton, and Tipsy Peyton. And damn I loved every piece of each side. “Guess I’d better feed you before you get hangry.” I gave them a rough smack on the ass, and they yelped.
“I do not get hangry!”
“Oh, don’t make me bring up last Thanksgiving! It wasn’t my fault you skipped breakfast, yet I still have the scar to show for it.”
Peyton snatched the bottle of rum and sauntered over to the table, throwing that smirk over their shoulder. In the last few days, they’d made themself right at home in my life. After mixing another drink, they met my eyes over the rim of their glass. Now, those beautiful brown orbs sparkled for a different reason, and my heart nearly exploded in my chest.
“Where’s my food, Daddy?” they asked, teasingly. Like they couldn’t have possibly made their own plate before they sat down.
“It’s coming.” I pulled a plate from the cabinet, knowing my next move might get me in trouble. I put on my best Hulk voice and growled, “Peyton smash—ah!”
A cold ice cube smacked against my back. I tossed a look over my shoulder. “You’re on, brat.”
Chapter Seventeen
Peyton
A week later,I was supposed to be packing but instead, I sat on the remnants of my bed with my tablet in front of me, the hammering in the living room serving as background noise. For the first time in weeks, I had inspiration to draw something.
Christmas was a week away, and my brother and Cole wanted to get the repairs done before we left for Kentucky. I made that trip every year, but this year it was different. I’d usually go with Jesse, who tended to forget that I got carsick and teased me about the amount of bathroom stops I needed. This year, however, he was going early, so I chose to stay and soak up a few more days with Cole.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take for me to adjust to him being mine, but I was going to enjoy the feeling.
There was a crash and then, “Watch it, dickhead!”
“Whoopsie!”
How those two managed to get anything accomplished was beyond me, but they didn’t get to be one of the most successful companies in the area for no reason, so it must have worked. Cole had finished the roof yesterday, and now they worked together on theflooring. All things considered, I was lucky. The branch through my ceiling could have been so much worse. The living room needed repairs, but Cole’s quick work in covering the damage saved the rest of the house.
Not that hit mattered much to me anyway—the place was going up for sale right after the holidays. Sure, it was mine. It was something I’d worked my ass off for, but it never truly felt like home anyway. Most of it sat empty because I didn’t have anything to fill it. When I worked, it was usually in bed or on the couch in front of the TV. Having a second bathroom came in handy when people visited, but for the most part, it only gave me another room to clean.
More arguing filtered through the closed door. Snickering, I set my tablet aside to investigate. I was surrounded by boxes and bags filled with everything I owned. Soon enough, they’d be filling Cole’s house. As I passed through the kitchen, the Terror Twins came into view. They hadn’t seen me, so I watched for a moment. They stood in the middle of the bare living room floor, arguing over which way to lay the boards. Cole shoved Jesse, and he retaliated by attempting to put Cole in a headlock. Unfortunately for my brother, Cole was a bit bigger, much to his dismay.
“Do I need to put you two in time out?”
Freezing in place, Cole’s gaze snapped up to me. His features softened, and he let go of my brother. Jesse straightened his clothes, muttering a phrase I’d rather not repeat.
“Ignore him,” I said when Cole’s eyes narrowed at my brother’s back.
“Are you all packed?”
It had been hours, and I’d hardly done anything. When inspiration struck, it was easy to ignore responsibilities. “Sort of…”
Instead of using his “Daddy” voice in front of Jesse, Cole simply arched a brow and strode over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“I’ve been drawing,” I confessed before he kissed the truthright out of me, a tactic he’d quickly learned got him anything he wanted.
“Yeah? What are you working on?”
Cue the heat over my cheeks. I glanced at my brother, who had returned to knocking the boards in to place with something that resembled a medieval torture device. He couldn’t know what I’d been sketching. The naughty image on my tablet was for our eyes only. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh?”
“I can hear you!” Jesse interjected. “Choose your next words carefully!”
I bit my lip, and Cole smiled, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Go finish up. I expect to see that drawing later.”
Face on fire, I spun and hightailed it back to my bedroom. My tablet lay on the bed, screen still bright. I picked it up and admired the faint sketch I’d been working on. The final product would never see the light of day, but I needed to get it out of my head and onto paper. Or… screen, as it was.
