Page 8 of Cosmo

“Who’s on tonight?” Murphy asked Mims.

“Haze. He’s already down there. Mick got tired and came up to take a nap.”

“Dad’s been getting tired lately, a lot. I’ll drag him to the damn doctor, but fuck if he doesn’t fight me every step of the way.”

“I ain’t going to no fucking quack that wants to stick things up my tight Irish ass,” Mick Murphy said as he waddled into the room, perma-scowl on his ruddy face. “Where’s the kid? I know I heard him. Woke me right out of my sleep!”

The man would bitch out a priest, but the kids warmed his old, stoney heart. “Eazy is chasing your namesake. Go help the poor man.”

“He better not think about spanking that baby,” Mick said as he waddled through the kitchen and toward the stairs.

No one would spank the kids, ever, but my father suspects everyone of spanking them.

“It’s good he looks out for them,” Mims said, and his voice broke a little as he slid off the stool and headed toward the living room. “I’ve got a tournament. Bye, Paps.”

Mims went to sit in his room and play video games. Then, he’d likely go out with some ninety-year-old man and hope to get himself a daddy out of it.

With Mims, he’d lost his family when he came out, and he had been searching for love since. He dated much more than the other guys, and the men he dated were all at least twenty years older than him.

Not that Murphy could talk to him about it, not with his husband being almost twenty-five years Murphy’s junior. Eazy came back into the room, grumbling, “I’m going to kick your father’s ass.”

“I’m not gonna stop you.”

“He got Micky out of bed and is taking him to the park.”

Not meaning to laugh, Murphy expected the scowl he received for it. “He spoils the kids, especially Little Mick. We knew that.You were the one who liked that, living with three generations in the house, giving the kids the entire family experience that you didn’t have.”

“Don’t throw my words back at me, Connor Murphy,” he gritted, his pretty amber eyes narrowed to slits. Murphy was getting used to that look on people’s faces toward him.

“I wasn’t doing that, my love. I was simply pointing out that my dad loves the kids. If he didn’t, it would be worse.”

Eazy moved to him and laid his head on Murphy’s shoulder. “Sorry. Of course, I love that he is so crazy about the kids. He helps a lot, but days like this, when he totally disregards our parameters for raising them…”

“I get it.”

“Daddies,” Katie called as she came into the kitchen. Her hair was in two long blonde braids and her very light blue eyes glared up at the two of them. “I need some juice.”

The way Katie spoke, many times, Murphy had to look around for the forty-year-old woman that her tone suggested she was. Mature, strong-willed and powerful, that was their Katie.

“Where is the magic word?”

Eazy started for the fridge, but Murphy stopped him with a hand across the space.

“Please,” she said as her eyes rolled.

“That’s rude, Katie,” Eazy told her. “No juice until you can ask respectfully.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, though she didn’t look a bit sorry. “I’ve been around my little brother too much. He’s got the manners of a goldfish.”

Her lips pursed, her eyes tried and failed to be remorseful, and Murphy had to look away to hide his smile while Eazy tried to scold her. “Your brother is three, and the best way to teach him manners is by mimicking those around him. So, the more you use, the more he’ll learn.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Murphy saw his husband's jaw clenching and stepped in fully. “Katie, my darlin’, how about I get you some juice and we’ll go play with your castle for a while?”

“That would be lovely, Daddy.”

A forty-year-old in a five-year-old’s body, that was Katie. What five-year-old used the wordlovely?

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