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Santino smirks as he nudges my ribs. "Damn right."
Bentley looks Marcello up and down. "Your chest is missing something."
Marcello glances down. "Uh oh. What?"
Bentley wolf whistles. "Jericho's tongue—licking every inch of it."
I cackle out a laugh as I hit Bentley’s shoulders. "Not funny. Don't tease my Daddies—go bug Roman."
Roman appears beside Bentley. "Are you getting into trouble, baby boy?"
Bentley blushes as he nods. "Yes."
Marcello crosses his arms over his chest. "Your boy is telling me howlickablemy chest is. You’d better put him in line."
Roman threads his arm around Bentley’s waist. "Jericho's waited a long time to find a Daddy who wants him for him. Don't make his new partners think his family is crazy."
Bentley cocks an eyebrow at Roman. "Iamcrazy—and so are my grandparents. Even my friend group is nuts."
I groan as I palm my forehead. "I donotwant to think about Christian, Rowan, Karter, Lucas, Macon, Preston, and Santiago right now."
"And Jordan," Bentley drawls. "Don't forget him."
Marcello, Lazaro, and Santino share a look. "Do we want to know?"
Roman drapes his arms over Marcello and Lazaro’s shoulders. "The short answer? No. The long answer?"
"Hell no," Bentley says cheerfully.
I smack his shoulder. "No saying hell. Bad boy."
Bentley looks at me sheepishly. "We both have Daddies now. We don't have to be each other’s."
My brother and I stare into each other’s eyes. All at once, a moment of affection so pure and true passes between us.
Bentley’s words take me back to when we were younger. When we’d play in our grandparents’ loft, making our toy soldiers duke it out like they were battling for world domination.
The memories never left me. Once in a while, Bentley would burst into tears and I’d wrap my arms around him. Hold him, cuddle him, and even wipe away his tears.
Bentley did the same for me. When life got tough and the weight of the world was too much for little me, he’d come into my room and hand me stuffies and wrap his blanket around me. Nothing made me happier than when we’d watch movies, played in the snow, and kept each other in check—typically by reminding each other not to curse.
Roman tousles Bentley’s hair. "There’s something you should know about Jericho—he and Bentley have a special, unbreakable bond."
"We know." Marcello wraps his arm around my waist. "Jericho told us about it this afternoon."
Lazaro turns to Roman. "It wouldn’t be the worst thing if Jericho and Bentley had a playdate this afternoon."
Bentley’s jaw drops. "Can we, Daddy?" He bounces on the balls of his feet. "Please?"
Roman pushes out a laugh. "I don't see why not. I, for one, have always enjoyed when you two boys act like your old selves. Sitting in your grandparents' loft on the Christmas tree farm and playing the way you used to. Nothing makes me a happier Daddy, because I know that you’re being who you are. Gosh—your entire family is wonderful. I’ve never felt more welcome than when your grandparents invited me in."
"Tell us more about that, Roman." Lazaro cuffs Roman’s shoulder as he leads us toward the patio table.
We settle into the seats, then pass around bottles of sparkling water and limoncello.
"Here’s how I met Bentley," Roman explains. "I was locked up inside Rikers Island for a murder I didn’t commit. False imprisonment—it was terrible. There was a work release program I was eligible for. It was at a Christmas tree farm in Upstate New York. Because I exhibited model behavior, I was the wardens’ first choice—as long as I didn’t screw things up."
"Did you know about Bentley?" Marcello asks.
