Page 1 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

CHAPTER 1

NATE

No one ever said fatherhood was easy. For the past two decades, I’ve raised my son the way I wish my father would have raised me. While my dad was cold and distant, I went out of my way to be warm and welcoming. Where my father never showed an ounce of emotion, I radiated joy like sunshine. Every bit of that sunshine was thanks to Tatum; it’s been easy being his dad.

From toddler to twenty-something twink, I raised my son to know he was safe and loved. He’s off on his own journey now, living his big, beautiful life in Winawana, Washington, taking his mother and her new girlfriend along for the ride. When he left, I thought my shot at fatherhood was over, but now, I get to do it all again, and I couldn’t be happier.

It’s still dark outside as I move through the house, tiptoeing so I don’t wake my new housemates. My son may have taken a big piece of my heart when he left to find his bliss, but he didn’t leave me empty-handed. No, my boy knew I was going to be lonely, so he left me two of the very best souvenirs in the world.

Bennet Anderson and Benjamin Applebaum.

It’s their first day of work, and I know they need their rest, so I try to keep quiet as I prepare for the day.

I’ll tell you, I couldn’t be prouder of these boys. When Tatum first introduced them to us a year ago—before he met his now husband, Abdulov—I knew the Bens were special. Benji and Bennet have felt almost like sons to me from the moment I met them. There was a strong, instinctual urge to bundle up the little guys and keep them safe. When Tatum broke things off with them by high-tailing it to Washington after a(n alleged)kidnapping, I lost touch with them. But my boys never left me. They were always here, tucked away in a tiny corner of my heart.

Earlier, on my way downstairs, I peeked into their room—my son’s childhood bedroom—to find them cuddled up next to each other, legs tangled together, arms splayed at uncomfortable angles. They sleep that way every night, always in adorable matching pajamas—but then, they wear matching clothes at all times, so that’s to be expected. Some might call it a coping mechanism, I simply find it adorable. When they sleep, they always face each other, so close their noses nearly touch.

They’re precious, my boys.

When Bennet and Benji moved in, they were still in a state of shock. Heck, I think we all were. The ink on my divorce papers was barely dry before they came barreling back into my life. The Bens were just coming out of an abusive relationship, and I think they needed me just as much as I needed them. They don’t always come to me when they’re in need, though, and I have to admit, it breaks my heart to hear them crying in their room at night. Our bedrooms are right next to each other, and the walls are paper thin. I try my best to give them their space, but it physically pains me to hear them hurting. Maybe one day they’ll seek refuge in my arms, knowing I’ll never let anyone hurt them. I hope they will, at least. Benji and Bennet are the same side of the same coin, and I’m just a wrinkly, old dollar bill aspiring to be a penny, just so I can understand some of what they’re going through.

After fixing their breakfast and packing lunches for their first day, I head up to their room, humming that old Lisa Loeb song that was on TV last night. I know the boys pick on me because of my love for ‘90s pop, but deep down, we all know they love the way I’ll sneak up behind them and start singing Ace of Base or Natalie Imbruglia directly into their ears.

Benji’s still sleeping, but Bennet’s wide awake, kissing trails across his best friend’s forehead. I sit at the foot of the bed and squeeze Bennet’s ankle.

“You ready for your first day, kiddo?” I ask.

Bennet gives me his trademark bashful morning smile and sits up, leaning closer to me. “I’m not a kid.”

I stare down at his Hello Kitty pajamas and arch an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” Feathering my fingers through his hair, I scratch his scalp. Usually, he pulls away from my touch, but today, he doesn’t. Today, he sits in front of me, allowing me to comfort him. “Are you nervous?”

I don’t know why I expect him to answer me. While Benji is my little cuddlebug, Bennet’s always been the standoffish sort. Even before their ex-boyfriend broke their hearts and their trust, Bennet was the quiet one. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, he tends to hide in his head, hoarding his emotions and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But when they’re alone? When they’re alone, my Bennet comes alive. He dances and sings and makes ridiculous faces. He reads gay romance novels aloud—acting out scenes like they were written just for him—while his best friend, Benji, sits at his feet, hands clasped to his chest, clinging to every word. I hope one day he’ll open up to me the same way. That’s not to say he’s uncordial, because Bennet Anderson is one of the sweetest souls you could meet. He just keeps to himself, is all.

I move past him, wanting to gently nudge Benji to wake him up, but Bennet grabs my wrist before I can make contact. “No,Nate. I like to wake him up.” He bats his lashes, looking almost heartbroken. “Please? He likes when I’m the one who does it.”

His possessiveness is nothing new; he’s always looked out for his friend. It’s hardly surprising after everything they’ve been through. They’ve been best buddies since they were toddlers, rarely spending any time apart. After Benji came out as gay, his parents kicked him out. Bennet convinced his mother to let him stay with them, but she was hardly a mother at all, leaving them to fend for themselves as she fell deeper into her drug addiction. Then they lost her at nineteen. Really, all they’ve ever had is each other. Now they’ve got me. Their touchstone. A window to the outside world. A surrogate father.

I wish I knew them back then. I wish I could have been there to keep them safe. Even though I don’t know what they had to do to survive, it kills me to think of the possibilities. For years, it’s been them against the world. While I understand the reasoning for their codependency, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to break down the walls they’ve built to keep others out. I want—no,need—them to know they can trust me. It’s an urge I can’t really explain, but it’s always there, bubbling higher and higher, like milk boiling on the stove.

Bennet kisses both of Benji’s eyelids, softly tickling the side of his neck with his fingers. Through their bedroom window, I spot the first signs of the morning sun, and in the half-light, their matching blond hair almost seems to sparkle. Bennet’s big blue eyes are practically radiating love as he watches Benji slowly stir.

Benji’s mouth opens and closes a few times, yawning, displaying a stunning set of pearly white teeth. When he spots Bennet, a gentle smile spreads across his face. They link hands, weaving their fingers together. Judging by the pleading look Bennet gives me, I figure he wants a moment alone, probably to reassure Benji that he’ll look out for him during their first shift as co-receptionists at the agency where my son-in-law used towork. Initially, I’d been hesitant to allow the boys to work for a hitman-for-hire corporation, but I know they need time away from this room, and after saving Abi’s life recently, I feel like I can trust Agent Meadows. Besides, they’ve hidden away for the last two months, and my boys need contact with the outside world.

I head toward the door, wanting to give them their privacy, but Benji’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Nate?”

I look over my shoulder, surprised to see his eyes locked on my butt. I glance down, thinking Bennet may have placed another ”Kick Me” sign on my backside like he did the other day. Well, he claimed there was one there when I caught him looking last time, but then he gave me some half-cocked story about a rogue racoon that must’ve snuck in and snatched it off my backside when we weren’t looking. A ridiculous story, but my boys have never lied to me, so I called pest control to come check things out. The last thing I want is them being infected with rabies while they sleep. I’d never forgive myself.

When Benji’s eyes meet mine, they widen. “Sorry. I thought your pants looked wet, but it’s just the fabric.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about. I’m wearing a pair of gray pajamas, so there would be no mistaking a wet patch for dry poly cotton blend. Chalking it up to his still being half-asleep, I give him a kind smile.

“What did you need, son?”

“You didn’t give me my good-morning hug.” He puffs his bottom lip out, pouting. At his side, Bennet motions me over, inviting me into their bubble. These moments are few and far between, but I’ve never felt more alive than I do when they allow me a glimpse into their secret world. I return to my place at the foot of their bed, opening my arms and inviting Benji in for a morning hug. Benji blushes, but for the life of me, I have no idea what’s got him so nervous. I open my mouth to ask why he’s soworked up, but when he rises to his knees, letting the blanket fall, I quickly realize the source of his embarrassment.

Yep. That’s an erection.

He hobbles toward me, his arms held out like Jesus on the cross, his morning glory bouncing up and down beneath the thin fabric of his pajamas. I’m pretty sure I can see an outline of the head.

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