“Yes, clothes,” Mercy says firmly. “Then we can come back and visit with Uncle Connor, okay?”
“Okay,” she sighs, voice trailing off as they head for the master bedroom.
“I’ve got to say, parenthood looks good on the both of you.”
Amos’s grin almost splits his face. “It was a long time coming, but now it’s here and we couldn’t be any happier.”
“Where’s Isaiah?” They adopted the teen boy last year, just like they did Leila. Amos hasn’t told me outright why they’ve decided to adopt kids, but I wonder if they’re having issues due to their ages. Not that they’re old at forty-nine and thirty-six, but I know complications can happen. At any rate, Leilani stole my heart, and Isaiah and I struck up a bond, too. Once a Shay claims someone, that’s it. Whether they be woman or child, they become blood in the eyes of the Shay family and are immediately accepted and loved as if they’d been born into our inner circle.
“He and Dad are checking on some of the rent houses.”
Dad and Amos own AMS Holdings as a way to collect some passive income since they’re both retired. Guess they’re showing the kid the ropes for when he’s old enough to join them. “I’m almost done with his bookcase. Probably within the next few weeks or so.”
“That’ll make his day. Just let us know when you want to drop it off. You want something to drink?”
“Yeah, man. Sounds good.” I follow him to the kitchen, stepping over the toys and stuffed animals scattered across the floor. I wouldn’t mind seeing the same mess at my house. Unbidden, an image of Rosanna nursing a baby while I play with a toddler flashes in front of my eyes.
“Did you hear me?”
Shaking it away, I look at an expectant Amos as he awaits my answer. “Sorry.” Glancing in the open refrigerator, I take in my choices: milk, juice, juice, more juice, and tea. “Iced tea.”
“Help yourself.”
I cut my eyes to him, a droll tone in my voice. “What would Mom say if she heard you right now?”
“She’d say, ’Connor, make my favorite son something to drink. It’shishouse, you know.’”
I shoulder check him with a smile as I reach past him into the cabinet—one that I built for him—for a glass. “You sound like a girl, dickhead.”
He snickers and grabs it from me. “Better be glad Mercy didn’t hear you say that. No bad words in front of the impressionable toddler who’s just learning to form sentences. But go sit down and relax. I need to make a juice for Leila, too, so just kick your feet up and we’ll all be there in a bit.”
Taking him at his word, I head back to the living room and forego either of the recliners, sitting on the huge couch instead. Along with our cousins and dad, I helped him build this house before he ever brought Mercy here. Little did I know that he had his eye on her for the entire year she worked for him as his receptionist. I’d just thought he was moving to be closer to our parents.
“Unka Conna!” An excited scream hits my ears just moments before a compact body runs into my knees. “I wuv you.”
“Leila! I love you, too, little girl.” And I’m glad she’s dressed this time. A gentle bear hug makes her squeal right into my ear. Wincing, I untangle her arms from my neck and put her back down. “Jeez, Mercy. What do y’all feed this kid that makes her a flash of lightning and gives her this nonstop energy?”
“Drinks for everyone,” Amos announces as he brings a tray into the living room and places it onto the coffee table. “Iced teas for the grownups, and apple juice for the little banshee.” He settles into his recliner with a sigh as he takes a swig. “Good stuff.”
Mercy shrugs. “I have no idea. I wish I knew, because we could both use a little more energy. Here you go, baby.” Grabbing her tea, she hands Leila her juice cup and moves to the other empty chair.
Amos straightens and pats his thigh. “Oh, no, you don’t, kitten. You know better than that. Right here.”
She bites her lips, face coloring a bit, but lets him pull her down onto his lap. “Amos...”
He kisses her temple. “I love when you say my name like that.”
“Not in front of your brother!”
He scoffs. “Connor knows how it is. Don’t you, brother?”
Taking in the sight in front of me, all I can do is smile. I want what they have. What my parents still have, even after forty-two years together. “I do, indeed.”
Mercy rests against him before lightly slapping his chest. “Oh! Corina said she and Mitchell would keep Leila tomorrow so we could have our date night.”
“Perfect,” he grins. “That’s the key, Connor, to keeping the romance alive. Date nights. As many as you can get. Right, baby?”
“Hol’ me,” a little voice demands at my knee, interrupting the kissing that ensued at her dad’s question.
