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Last night, Mark had jerked off for the first time in a long time, thinking about that, remembering their kisses, wondering whether Isaiah was jerking off back in his room too. But right now he couldn’t be thinking about sex. He needed to get Isaiah out of the house.

“Go.” He handed Isaiah his sandals. “Get meat. And ice cream.”

“And diapers.” Isaiah laughed on his way to the foyer. “Glamorous life we lead.”

I like it. Grief was still a real and omnipresent thing, but Mark was surprised by how much he’d enjoyed the past week, settling into a routine, hanging with Isaiah and the kids.

“Maybe later we can watch that movie.” Out of sight of the kids, Mark gave in to the impulse and gave Isaiah a fast kiss.

“Oh yeah.” Isaiah’s hooded eyes promised way more kissing, and Mark liked the giddy flip his stomach gave.

After Isaiah left, he cleaned up the lunch leftovers from the kids, then herded them upstairs for rest time. They were wilder than usual, running in circles, wanting stacks of stories while they bounced on their beds.

“How about you look at books while I get Liam down,” he suggested when it became rapidly apparent that no sleeping was imminent. He’d read every Sandra Boynton book they owned. Twice.

“I’m too big for a nap,” Daphne complained for the hundredth time.

“Fine. You can still read though, consider it quiet time. Let Zoe sleep though.”

He turned his attention to Liam, who had been fussy most of the day. But nothing worked. He refused his bottle. He beat his little fists on Mark’s back when Mark tried the carrier. He cried heart-rending howls when set in the crib. He seemed somewhat happy in the rocking chair or when Mark paced with him, but had fresh cries whenever Mark stopped.

“We done napping!” Zoe marched into Liam’s room wearing an elephant mask, a tutu, and a pair of Isaiah’s shoes.

“Did you sleep?” Mark asked even though he could tell the answer to that question.

“Not tired,” she said, rubbing her face.

“I did a tattoo!” Daphne was next, covered in marker, everywhere except her still-healing scar. “Just like the lady at the beach.”

“I see.” Balancing a still-fussing Liam, Mark got her in the bath. Zoe wanted a snack, but he wasn’t sure about leaving Daphne in the tub. So he ended up pacing back and forth, bouncing Liam, while Zoe moaned about how hungry she was, and Daphne took her sweet time getting clean.

Finally, he got her dry, Zoe fed, and Liam reasonably calm. Man. He’d hiked mountains, rappelled down the side of ships, and jumped out of more planes than he could count, but nothing had prepared him for how hard it could be juggling three kids.

“How’d it go?” Isaiah came in right as he was close to his breaking point of calling Bacon or someone else for backup, because as soon as Mark had one kid happy the next one needed something.

“Oh fine. We’re good.” Mark helped him with the bags of food, never happier to see another adult human in his life.

“Liar.” Isaiah leaned in for a fast peck. “You look awful. Let me guess. No one slept?”

“No one slept. And something’s wrong with the baby.”

“He’s broken?” Isaiah laughed.

“I took his vitals—no fever, no congestion other than a lot of drool, but he’s fussy as all get out and nothing’s making him happy.”

“Teething. Crap. I think there’s a teething ring for him in the back of the fridge.” Sure, Isaiah knew immediately what Mark with all his medical training hadn’t been able to suss out. “Let me take over for a while. You need a break. And later, it’s your turn for a shower or long bath and massage, if you want. You’ve earned it.”

“You want to massage me?”

“Sure.” Isaiah came up with the teething ring from the fridge, triumphant. “Only if you want it though. It’s relaxing and it looks like you’ve been through the ringer. Let me handle dinner and you chill. And you can think about the massage, tell me later.”

Mark did think about it, all through his run and workout, all through dinner, and finally Isaiah shoved him in the direction of the bathroom. “Go. Get your relaxation on. I’ll be picking out a movie.”

He was half-hard in the shower, thinking about Isaiah’s hands on him, thinking about more kisses. Yeah. He could get into the idea of a massage. To that end, after a nice steamy shower, he put on shorts but no shirt and headed to the family room where Isaiah was scrolling through movie previews on the big screen TV. His hair was damp, and like Mark, he was shirtless in pajama bottoms.

“Sit.” Isaiah indicated a cushion on the floor in front of where he sat on the couch. “If you want me to rub your shoulders, this is going to be best. You’re too tall otherwise.”

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