Page 49 of Forever Ink

Ragnar stood at the foot of the ladder, snorting and looking awfully pleased with himself.

“Daddy? What’s —oh.” Rhys let out a tipsy giggle. “Ragnar you silly ram, Daddy’s not a troll. Come here.” Rhys stood up on wobbly legs, laughing again as Ragnar trotted like a spring lamb over to him, softly butting against Rhys’s hand for pets.

“Come on. You scared Daddy.” Rhys wove in a slightly alarming way towards the stall, Ragnar following like an obedient puppy.

“You were very brave, but Daddy’s not the scary troll.” Rhys reached out and grabbed Ragnar by one of his horns and led him back in his stall, though it took several drunken attempts to close the stall door. Still laughing, he wove his way back to the straw and plopped back down.

“Night night, Daddy, you’re safe now.” And just like that, Rhys was out cold again.

I shot a look at Callum, who was doing a piss–poor job of not laughing.

“This never gets mentioned,” I muttered, climbing down from the ladder. Callum made the motion of zipping his lips, but I didn’t buy it for an instant.

“Help me with the lads. You take Mouse, I’ll carry Rhys. They’re going to catch a cold or something staying asleep out here.”

“Daddy?” Rhys said in a sweetly drunken voice as I lifted him up off the hay bale.

“What, little one?”

“I had something super important to ask you.” His words faded off as he started to fiddle with my shirt buttons. “I like this shirt. Soft and very Daddy.” He burped softly then giggled.

I saw Callum mirror my movement with Mouse, picking up my sleeping brother so carefully. His face took on a peculiar expression when he looked at Mouse that had me wondering again if maybe Rhys was onto something.

But I was dragged from my pondering by a tug to my beard. “Was important,” Rhys said emphatically.

“What was it, baby bear?”

“I—I can’t remember.” Rhys burped, then his eyes screwed up and he clutched his belly. “Daddy, I don’t feel well.”

“I’m not surprised, baby bear. Come on let’s get you inside and into bed.”

Rhys let out a loud huff, burrowing his head into my shoulder “But it was something important.”

“It will be okay, love. I’m certain you’ll remember when you wake up.”

Dad was at the kitchen sink washing up the last of the dishes as Cal and I came in from the mud room. With our arms full of sleepy drunken men, we couldn’t stop to take our boots off. Dad gave a knowing nod, laughing softly.

“Did the boys find some more Christmas wine?”

I nodded, looking down at Rhys, “Think they both might be a little worse for wear come morning. They had Ragnar out of his stall.”

Dad stepped closer, giving the sleeping men in our arms a fond, exasperated look. “Dare I ask what Rag got up to?”

“He was guarding them, I think. Rhee mentioned something about a troll before he fell asleep again.” I bussed my nose through Rhys’s soft curls. Even after spending time asleep in the straw pile, he still smelt good.

“I’m going to get him up to bed, we have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Aye up, looks like my grandson’s going to have his first hangover.” Joe came into the room smiling. “Oh, he’s going to feel it when he wakes up come morning.”

Magnus turned to Callum. “Alice is asleep on the fold–out. We kept an eye on her. She fell asleep watching the Christmas lights. I know you’d said about putting her in your bed to head off any present snooping, but neither Joe nor I are sound sleepers, so we’ll hear if your munchkin gets up to anything. Besides, your room’s next to the bathroom, and we all know how well Mouse copes with hangovers.”

I watched Cal hug Mouse a little tighter. “It might be sensible if we grabbed a bucket for them.”

Dad gave my arm a pat. “I’ll dig up some buckets, you two get the lads to bed.”

* * *

Getting my boy into bed was a little trickier than I’d thought. Rhys was a wriggly, giggly boy when intoxicated. He stood swaying gently at the foot of the bed on the towel I’d laid down to collect the mud and muck from our boots.

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