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Curty’s eyes get bigger, as he nods. “We should research which lakes and rivers have the most fish and build it there.”
“Or coastline,” Quin points out, smiling again. “Can’t rule out any forest country near the sea. Especially when your mom likes seafood better than freshwater fish. Well, salmon’s both, I guess.”
Curty’s hair flops from one side to the other, as he looks between us. He pushes it out of his eyes and looks at me. “What’s wrong with freshwater fish?”
“Nothing’s wrong with them,” I say a little defensively. “I just don’t like the way they taste like mud, a lot of the time. Fish from the ocean come pre-seasoned with salt, so you only need to add lemon and pepper.”
He chuckles at that, takes another piece of watermelon, and starts walking over to the piece of wood tacked to the tree, with their list of building tasks written on it in pencil. He stops and turns to look between me and Quin again, his wary gaze lingering on Quin. “How do you know she doesn’t like mud fish?”
Quin glances at me briefly. “A meal the cook made for us when we were living at Jack’s at the same time,” he says smoothly. “It just about made your mom puke. She turned gray. Not green, like in the cartoons.Gray.”
He neglects to mention that Jack then had his cook make that disgusting meal every night for the rest of the week, just to make me feelwelcome.
Curty wrinkles his nose and turns back to the list before looking up at the treehouse.
“It’s looking great, you guys. I should let you get back to it,” I say getting up and dusting the grass from my butt.
Loosh lets out the loud snore of a man with a deeply relaxed larynx.
The shade is moving away from him, as the afternoon wears on.
“I’ll get a sun umbrella for Loosh, too,” I say. “Unless one of you wants to rub sunscreen on that sweater he’s wearing?” I add with a chuckle.
Quin and Curty laugh too, and Quin shakes his head. “Never touch a sleeping beast.” Looking at his big brother, he adds, “And always ask before you touch one that’s awake. Especially that one.”
I take a deep breath and soak in the family vibes as best I can, before I retire to the safe zone of the upper floor, to watch my favorite people from there.
Curty makes my life a joy, but despite his awesomeness, my days often end with a gnawing loneliness. I haven’t felt that way, these last few days, though. I’ve smiled and laughed and felt part of something wonderful.
To have our family together like this, is a glimpse of the life I’ve been dreaming of, and it gives me hope in a way I’m almost scared to trust.
19
QUIN
Since Loosh and I are here building the treehouse, anyway, we’ve been watching Curty while Kira’s at work, and I’m so glad my boy is enjoying the novelty of having me in his home.
We’ve played with Lego, made breakfast for dinner, and watched a movie together on the couch, and when he fell asleep leaning against me, I was so happy I could cry.
I actually feel like his dad, and it’s the best fucking feeling.
Loosh is in the big armchair across the room, and he’s been busy playingCandy Crushall evening. When I tell him I’m putting Curty to bed, he grunts and doesn’t move from his spot. Only his eyes are alive with the reflections of his candy-colored screen.
I scoop Curty into my arms and carry him upstairs, to his bed. His mom will probably give me the evil eye, for putting him to bed without brushing his teeth, but I don’t have the heart to wake him. He’s been working so hard, out in the fresh air, trying to keep up with me for days on end, and the poor kid’s zonked.
I tuck him in and smooth his hair away from his face. “I fucking love you, little dude. Have the best sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning, for more fun.”
He’s so fast asleep he’s already drooling on his pillow, and I touch my shoulder where he’s left a wet patch on me, too. I chuckle softly to myself, sneak out of his room, and close the door behind me, before I check my stupid, ugly, regularly-serviced-so-it-never-fucking-dies watch.
Kira will be home soon.
I glance at the door to her room. It’s easy to tell it’s hers, because there’s ivy painted on the door and a low glow coming from inside, that I just know is from a set of fairy lights. Even when she was a teenager, her room had this soft lighting. It made her skin appear even more exquisite and luminous when she’d sit in the window, putting on a show for me.
Without hesitating, I slip inside her room and close the door, taking a few moments to appreciate everythingKira.
I trail my fingers over the soft blanket on her bed, as I walk around, breathing in her scent, which is so much more concentrated in here than in any other part of the house.
I get naked, pull back her bed covers, and slide between her sheets. Bury my face in her pillows and roll in every trace of her presence. My cock strains against her mattress, as I grind into it like a man possessed. The urge to mess her sheets is overwhelming, as is the thought of it getting inside her to start a new life growing there.
