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“Mom said she fed them before I picked them up. They’re like human garbage disposals. They eat nonstop,” Linkin says as he places plates in front of them to place their food on, instead of in their hands. My stomach growls again as Linkin hands me a plate of my own. “Eat up before the twins take all the food.”
Stealing two slices of pepperoni, I slowly make my way into the living room. The boys are eating at the coffee table, swords lying on the carpet beside them, and their eyes are glued to the screen. As soon as I take a seat on the couch, one of them notices my presence and moves to join me on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Linkin asks when he comes into the living room, sitting on the chair. He’s so big that the chair is child sized in comparison to his large frame.
“Sittin’ by the pretty lady,” the boy says with a shrug.
“That’s Jack. You gotta watch him. He’s the charmer,” Linkin says with humor and fondness laced in his eyes.
“Do you like The Gladiator?” the boy I now know as Jack asks.
“It’s okay,” I answer before taking a bite of pizza.
“It’s the best,” he says, shaking his head and leaning towards me. “If you get scared, you can hold my hand.” He’s so serious that I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” My smile is genuine and my body is relaxing for the first time in I don’t even know how long.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” Linkin reminds his little brother.
“Whatever, man. If I kiss her first, she’s mine. You snooze, you lose.” Jack’s eyes are burning into his older brother’s, but I can see the laughter in Linkin’s. He’s trying not to smile as he stares down his little eight-year-old brother.
“Noted,” Linkin replies, shoving a piece of pizza into his mouth. As he slowly chews, that smirk that I’m becoming quite fond of, is still plastered on his face. He throws me a wink before turning his attention towards the television.
After, when there’s nothing left of the pizzas but crumbs and the movie is nearing the dramatic ending, both boys are showing no signs of slowing down. They’re acting out the movie, scene by scene, as they gear up for the big finale. Someone’s going to die; I just can’t decide which one of them will fall under the other’s big plastic sword.
That’s when they make their move.
Both boys attack their older brother sitting in the chair. Jeff, in the blue shirt, jumps on the back of the chair to cover his arms, while Jack works to secure Linkin’s legs. The noise reaches deafening levels as the boys screech and wail with each thrust of their swords and grab with their hands. I’m laughing as Linkin pretends to be overtaken by the hellions, but it’s clear that he’s just playing along for their sake.
“Pretty lady, help us! We can beat him and take over the castle. Then we’ll order pizza every night!” Jack yells.
“And ice cream!” Jeff adds.
Unable to keep myself on the couch, I move to the chair where the boys are attacking their older brother. Seeing a window of opportunity where they have Link’s arms and legs occupied, I dive into his ribs, digging in and giving him a full force tickle. His eyes widen as he squirms beneath us. The boys laugh as they watch him wiggle, my fingers refusing to lighten up their assault.
Suddenly, he moves. With two boys attached to him, he gets up and sets them down on the ground. Then he starts to tickle. They scream in protest, begging for mercy, for him to stop. When he concedes to let them breathe, I feel the air in the room shift. Then, just as quickly as he stood, I’m sprawled out on the carpet, Linkin’s body pressed firmly over mine. My eyes must widen bigger than the plate we just ate dinner off of, and it isn’t until his small smile turns into a big wolfish one, that I realize what’s about to happen.
“No, no, no,” I beg just before his hands wrap around my ribs and he starts to tickle. “Oh my God!” I squeal, wiggling and gasping for air. The boys both jump up and down, cheering and encouraging their big brother.
When I’m two seconds away from peeing my pants (yeah, wouldn’t that be awesome), Linkin lets up on his wicked assault. It’s then, panting and gasping for breath, that I realize he’s practically laying on top of me, one of his hands pinning both of mine above my head, and my legs wrapped around his waist.
How in the hell did that happen? Bad legs!
“You asked for it,” he quips, most likely referring to the tickling. Yet, my mind is focused on the erection he’s pressing into the V of my legs, and all I can think now is that yes, I’m asking for it.
Begging, actually.
“Did not,” I retort, lifting my chin.
“You did. It’s in your eyes.” I’m suddenly wondering if we’re actually talking about the same thing.
“I should go. The boys probably need to get ready for bed,” I tell him, neither of us moving. Not that I could move anyway. I’m still pinned beneath two hundred pounds of solid muscle.
“They do,” he replies, seemingly reluctant to move.
“If you kiss her first, you get to keep her,” Jeff says, bending down and getting right in our faces.
“Dang it!” Jack pouts, making both Linkin and I laugh.
