Page 43 of Forever Ink

Mouse looked away towards the darkening fields, frowning. “I try not to.”

“Mouse,” I sighed. We’d had this conversation a lot over the last nine years, and it still didn’t seem to sink in that we didn’t blame him for Mum’s death. It was a stupid accident that had cost us our Mum, and nearly Mouse as well.

“Sy, don’t. I know what you’re going to say and I’ve heard it enough. Just, can we get through Christmas without me wanting to punch you or Cal?” Mouse huffed, his breath sending out white plumes.

“I just worry,” I answered simply, fighting the urge to hug my brother, knowing if I tried, he’d shove me away. The only people he really let hug him were Rhys and Alice. I missed my cuddly, happy little brother. There were times I saw flashes of him, how he was before the accident, but they were far and few between. In his place was a sarcastic, closed off man who was hurting. Ziggy, the cheating arsehole, hadn’t helped, and I had to tamp down the urge to punch the slimy fuck anytime I saw him in town.

“I’m fine.” He flashed a tense grin, “Going to start looking for my own place once all this Christmas stuff is out of the way.”

I frowned. I’d thought he liked living at Callum’s. “Things not going well at Cal’s?”

“Yeah, they are, but you know I need my own space. No hookups when you’re likely to have an eight-year-old walk in, right? Besides, Callum seems to have taken the same courses in overbearing bossiness you did.”

I bit back a smile. Mouse probably didn’t need or want to hear I’d learned everything about being a daddy dom from Cal. We both loved to pamper and cherish our littles, but Callum also liked his boys to have a fiery side. They fed his sadistic needs. Me, I was all about the cuddling and the heaviest I got with punishments was cock cages and spanking. The sudden image of Rhys in a cage popped into my head.

That could be a fun way to see the new year in.

“Oh, you just got that look in your eye, and honestly I don’t want to know what you just thought about.”

I shook my head, laughing. “Probably not.”

Mouse let out a long breath. “It’s pretty, the lights. Mum would’ve loved it.” Before I could agree he turned back towards the house. “Come on, we left Dad getting Rhys to taste-test the glögg. Who knows how many he tried?”

“Let’s get this stuff put away, then we can rescue my boy.” I chuckled, already imagining him sitting there rosy-cheeked while Dad told tales about Mouse and me.

I touched his shoulder before we got inside the mud room, getting his attention. He rolled his eyes, as if he knew what I was going to ask. “Are you okay? I mean really, we’ve not gotten to spend a lot of time hanging out of late.”

Mouse gave an unamused huff then gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine, doing dandy. Now let’s get inside, I’m freezing my nuts off out here.” That was as much of an answer as I was going to get out of him, and I wasn’t mad enough to push it.

Chapter 18

RHYS

Oh, I was feeling funny, but a good funny.

I’d only had two mugs of what Magnus called glögg, but darn it was yummy. I think I’d probably drunk them a bit too quickly, but the spice and fruit juice tasted so good together that I promptly forgot that Magnus had poured quite a bit of alcohol into it. I looked wistfully at my empty mug and back to the large pot sitting on top of the oven.

Magnus squeezed my shoulder as he walked past towards the oven. “The other jug has the non-alcoholic version.”

“But I like the extra zing in this one,” I muttered, staring at my now sadly empty mug.

“Have you ever drunk anything alcoholic before?” Doc grinned at me.

“Umm, does stealing a sip of Grandad’s sherry when I was six count?” I asked.

Grandad’s face split into a grin. “Oh my Gods, lad. Your Mum nearly had a fit—well, after she stopped laughing, And it wasn’t just a sip. He downed the full sherry glass before we could catch him. He thought he was missing out on something special.”

“It tasted bloody horrible, not like the glögg.” I smacked my lips theatrically, giving Magnus my best puppy–dog eyes.

“No more till after we’ve eaten. Those puppy eyes won’t work on me.” Magnus laughed, shaking a finger at me, and I poked my tongue out and slouched back into my chair. Being able to mess around and, as Simon would call it, brat a little bit, still felt new and exciting. There was part of my brain expecting to hear my father’s thunderous voice and feel the pain of a backhander for speaking out of turn, or what he considered rudely.

But the gentle head shake and eye roll Magnus gave me told me he knew I was playing around, and he seemed to be having as much fun as I was.

A cold breeze blew against my legs. Tipping my head back towards the mud room I saw Mouse and Daddy in deep conversation. Mouse looked pensive but not angry, and Daddy wore the same expression. I’m sure he’d tell me if it was something important. I’d been calling Simon ‘Daddy’ in my head most of the day and realised with warmth that he didn’t just hold that place in my heart, in the playroom, or when I was little. He was my rock, my friend, my protector and my Daddy. The name had come to mean so much to me.

I was amused at myself. The fear I’d had about slipping and calling Simon Daddy in front of people didn’t exist here. Perhaps because I knew that with my new family, I didn’t have to be ashamed of who I was or what I felt.

Simon’s warm arms wrapped around me from behind and twisting around in his arms so I could look at him I saw the part of his cheeks that weren’t covered by his bushy beard were red from the cold, but his eyes sparked with warmth.

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