Page 72 of Small-Town Secrets
They whined in unison, so maybe theycouldagree on something after all.
"Is there a dog coming?" Tyler asked, turning back to me. "You said work."
"Actually I'm going to their place, sorry."
Tyler's face fell.
"You could come with if you want to," I suggested.
"Really?" His eyes lit up.
"Only if you're good." I looked to Chris. "Would you like to come too?" I was sure old Frank wouldn't mind. He loved kids almost as much as his rascal dogs.
"No, I'll play my game," Chris said and then he left the room to go up the stairs, surprising me a little bit. I'd thought he liked dogs. Maybe he liked his Gameboy more. Or maybe he just didn't want to spend time with me.
Tyler followed his brother, and suddenly, it was just me and Laurence on the couch in front of the monster of a Christmas tree we'd dragged in. Laurence had said he was afraid it might be too big, but I knew it was a long time since he'd had his own tree, so I didn't mind that it was nearly scraping the ceiling. I exhaled and leaned back into the couch, looking at it.
Laurence gave me a soft smile. "Being a parent can be exhausting, huh?"
"The kids are wonderful," I said.
For some reason, this made Laurence laugh. "Of course they are," he said, eyes glittering with amusement. "But they're also little hellions who will suck every little ounce of energy out of you if you let them. You don't have to pretend like that's not true. The trick is loving them anyway."
"I do."
"I know you do." He leaned over to press a kiss to my lips and then paused as he withdrew to peer into my eyes. "That's why I love you." Another grin stole over his face. "Part of why I love you, anyway."
I stared at him in a daze.
“What?” he asked.
“You’ve never said that before.”
“What? That I love you?” He gave a little laugh. “I’ll say it more often in the future. Get used to it.”
I pulled him in for another kiss. “I love you too.”
“Good.” Laurence moved to straddle my lap. "Wanna know what part of you I love the most?" As he spoke, one of his hands ran under my sweater, tracing up my stomach as if each one of my abdominal muscles counted as a reason on its own.
"Are you objectifying me?" I joked.
"Would you mind?"
"No." I tugged on his shirt, pulling him closer because I wanted another kiss, a deeper one. He sounded breathless when I let him go again.
"Seriously, though," he said, glancing at the tree. "Thank you for all of this."
"You don't need to thank me."
"Yeah, I do," he insisted. "I know you don't usually celebrate Christmas."
"How do you know that?"
"You don't own any decorations. That's a pretty big giveaway."
"That's because I normally go to Marvin's place to celebrate."
Laurence shot me a skeptical look, even though I was telling him nothing but the truth. I went over to my brother's house every year to drop of a gift or two for my niece. I was a good uncle. Sometimes. "You also didn't think much of telling the boys that Santa isn't real," Laurence reminded me.
