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Luke flipped him off as he continued to fold onesies. “If you want babies, make your own.”
Atlas walked the baby back and forth across the nursery, bouncing him very carefully in his arms. They’d apparently been big for twins, but it didn’t make them feel any sturdier, even now at six months old.
Alistair and Gideon were adorable babies, but his secret favorite was Gideon—both because he was the younger brother by four minutes, and because he was the cranky one. Even better, Gideon loved Uncle Atlas and wouldn’t give Uncle Fox the time of day.
“I’m going to tuck you into my coat and we’ll go for a nice ride on my motorcycle. Just don’t tell your old man. He’s boring.”
“Stopping you from feeding a six-month-old ice cream was responsible, not boring.”
“Daddy’s boooooring!” Atlas sang in a silly voice. Gideon smiled his gooey one-toothed grin. Maybe Gideon didn’t know what he was saying, but he knew Uncle Atlas was hilarious.
A sound behind them made him turn. Mila was leaning against the doorframe, grimacing and shaking her head. The baby in her arms had one chubby fist buried in her hair, and the other hand extended toward his brother.
“Alistair couldn’t handle it anymore,” she laughed. “Three minutes though. A new record.”
As soon as Gideon heard Alistair grunt, he started lunging for him and Atlas had to hang on tight. They got frantic when they were separated. They even slept together.
“Gideon was okay, but we were busy bugging Daddy for being boring.”
They sat on the area rug with the boys and they roly-polyed closer to each other. Alistair grabbed Gideon’s ear and stared to fall asleep almost immediately. Gideon put two fingers in his mouth and started to doze off too.
“I don’t know why we bothered buying two cribs. They don’t use one, let alone two.”
“Poor kids have to sleep on the floor.” Atlas shook his head. “You boys come home with your aunt and uncle, and you’ll have proper beds.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “I’m going to check on Ophelia. The pot of chili she’s making is bigger than she is.”
“No luck?” Mila asked as Luke walked out.
“Nope. The bastard won’t even let us keep one.”
She sighed and stretched out on the floor next to Alistair. “He’s heartless. I guess we’ll have to have our own.”
“I keep trying, but you’re too stubborn to get pregnant.”
She snorted. “You know damn well I’m on the pill, and what you were doing to me last night doesn’t make babies.”
“It doesn’t?” he asked, feigning shock. “But it feels so good.” He crawled around his nephews to spoon in behind Mila.
“Don’t get any ideas, sir. Not here,” she warned.
“Maybe when Luke comes back I’ll take you for a walk in the desert.”
“Pervert.”
“You know it.”
He watched her watching the babies, her gaze tender as she stroked the dark, downy hair on Alastair’s head. She sighed happily when Atlas kissed her neck, then gasped when he bit her shoulder.
“Behave.”
“Hard to behave when you’re wiggling your ass against my cock,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’m not!”
“Shhh, your lies are going to wake the children.”
She stifled a laugh.
