Page 86 of Santa Daddies
“Wrong, only clever Littles know how not to get caught,” Emma offered with a giggle.
“Don’t worry, we can teach you how being a little sneaky can come in handy at times.”
That came from Marcie and didn’t surprise me a bit.
“Besides, I already know what’s in those boxes. It’s why I’m gonna need your help,” she added.
Their voices faded as they turned the corner at the end of the hallway. I smiled and glanced toward the door they’d been looking into. Even if I hadn’t heard their exchange, I supposed it wouldn’t take much thought to figure out where at least some of those boxes had gone. Then again, it actually made perfect sense. Where else would our first overnight guests of the season spend the night other than in our guest room?
“Who’s drinking?” I asked when I returned to the living room to join the men and the one woman of our inner circle.
“Wouldn’t the better question be who isn’t?” they chorused in almost perfect harmony.
Okay, that probably wasn’t the smartest question I’d ever asked. I uncorked the first bottle of wine and began to fill glasses. Leo helped prepare drinks for those who preferred harder liquor and once everyone had a glass of their choice, we took seats in the living room. Leo plopped his ass in his favorite spot and his feet up on the coffee table.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?” Tilda asked, stepping over his outstretched legs to sit beside him.
My bark of laughter drew her attention.
“Don’t encourage him.”
“Don’t waste your breath, Tildy. That’s what these get togethers are all about and why we all enjoy them so much. We can be our real selves, no need for formality or uncomfortableness, no need to be on guard worrying about those around us…” The sound of a bell had me practically growling as I stood up from where I’d just taken a seat. I washalfway to the door when I realized I didn’t hear any lyrics singing along to the buzzing.
“I think that’s your timer,” Grant called.
Turning back, I shook my head. “Be warned. If any of your Littles suggest a cute little doorbell for Christmas, run for the hills.”
Several chuckles were heard as I switched direction and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t really surprised to turn and see they’d followed me.
“What can we do to speed up this process?” Stu asked.
“You’ve been here what? A whole five minutes?” I groused.
“Just keeping it real,” Stu said with a grin, throwing my words back in my face.
“Salad still needs to be put together so knock yourself out.” I grabbed the mitts and opened the oven door. The lasagna wasn’t ready yet, I was simply switching the positions of the two casseroles. It was quite satisfying to hear sniffs and then moans of approval as the aroma of rich tomato sauce with hints of spicy sausage rolled from the oven.
While Stu and Grant started a contest to see who could chop various colored bell peppers into the thinnest slices, Tilda began arranging the garlic knots onto a baking sheet while Leo and Phillip basted them liberally with the garlic and herb butter I’d prepared. This was also part of why I loved these people. They were as at home in my kitchen as I was in theirs. Leo and I had been friends since we’d been kids, and Tilda had joined our group in high school the day our science teacher assigned teams in class. I could still remember Mr. Jacobson telling us that he hoped by putting Tilda in charge as team leader, we’d manage not to blow up the chemistry lab.
We couldn’t exactly argue as we’d spent several Saturdays doing chores around the school as penance for the damage done the year before when we’d thought it would be reallycool to see what happened if you put an entire bag of jumbo marshmallows in the vacuum oven. All had been going perfectly fine until sparks began shooting off inside the oven and then flames started licking out the back. We’d forgotten to remove the twist-tie that Leo had used to close the bag after sampling just a few because he was “starving”. It could have had extremely dire consequences if Mr. Jacobson hadn’t been on hand to not only pull the plug on the oven but to grab the fire extinguisher and spray not only the oven but the entire area down with a thick layer of foam, which, of course, we were assigned to clean after the danger had been eliminated.
By the time we were in our senior year of school, both Leo and I had already known we preferred to be in charge. We’d also learned far more than what happened in a vacuum oven. We’d learned two very important things that had nothing to do with chemistry. First, that while there were men whose genetic makeup leaned toward dominance, biology didn’t bar females from having the same tendencies. We’d also learned that while Tilda could be as bossy and as hard as we were, she was also highly intelligent and taught us that being alphas didn’t mean being assholes.
We’d not only managed not to destroy the chem lab again, but we’d actually won the regional science fair two years in a row. I guess our pairing did have something to do with chemistry after all, because once we embraced Tilda, we learned a whole lot more about what made girls, well, sugar and spice and all the incredible bits that made them oh so very, very nice.
We’d met Stu in college where he was studying to become an architect. After graduation, he’dhelped the three of us design our club and then Grant joined our group when we’d needed a lawyer to keep everything legal as we’d begun the process of opening Gem. We’d played in a few clubs in our city, more around the state, but never felt they met not only our needs, butthose of the members we'd be trying to attract. Phillip was the most recent member of our crew. He’d become a member of the club and then when he risked his life to save his Little, the two of them had joined our group and become friends for life.
“Okay, by the time this cools enough to slice, we’ll be ready to eat,” I said after the timer buzzed a second time. “Leo, can you call the Littles?”
“Sure.” He dropped his basting brush into the sink as Tilda slid the baking sheet into the oven once I’d removed the casseroles.
“Littles! Grub’s on!”
I jerked up and stared at Leo who stood in the doorway, then shook my head. “Tilda’s right, you definitely could use a refresher course on manners.”
“I beg to differ. As you can hear, my method is quite effective,” he said, tilting his head toward the hallway.
I could indeed hear the sound of many feet moving at a rapid pace. Not only that, I caught what sounded like Grant, saying, “Whoa! Isn’t that um… interesting?”
