My lips quirked as she moved around the kitchen, cleaning up after Bronagh had made everyone breakfast. That was one of Georgie’s chores; she preferred cleaning the kitchen to the bathrooms. The boys would flip a coin to see who got stuck with toilet duty.
“What are you doing today, sweetheart?”
“I have class at the centre at half ten,” she answered. “Auntie Alannah is collectin’ me on ‘er way. Alex and Joey are comin’ with me.”
“And here I thought you would come to the boys’ game with me to keep me company. Some of your uncles will be there with your cousins, too.”
The look of horror Georgie shot my way cracked me up. Her lips twitched when she realised I was teasing her.
“Will ye’ go and get dressed?” she asked, her brow wrinkled. “You’re too old to be walkin’ around in your boxers like the lads.”
“Too old?” I repeated in outrage. “I’m thirty-eight, you little shit.”
Georgie smirked. “That’s only two years away from forty.”
I scowled. “Evil child.”
“I’m gonna be twenty in five years, does that make you feel worse?”
Pain clutched at my chest.
“Yes,” I answered, rubbing the spot. “It does. You’re my baby.”
“D’ye hear that, Axel?” Georgie hollered. “Daddy just called me a baby!”
I heard movement, then quick paced little footsteps as my youngest son barrelled into the room. Wrapping his arms around Georgie’s hips, he crashed into her, making her laugh.
“I told ye’!” Axel said to her. “I told ye’ they think we’re all babies.”
“Ye’ did.” Georgie nodded down at him. “I think Mammy and Daddy are goin’ crazy.”
“Super crazy!”
“Hey,” I teased. “You’re all my babies.”
“He’s lost his mind,” Axel said with a shake of his head. “We should put ‘im in the old people’s home ye’ said he and Mammy are gonna go to someday.”
My jaw dropped, and Georgie burst into laughter.
“Ye’ aren’t supposed to tell them what I said,” she tittered, hugging her brother to her side. “They get upset when we call them old.”
“Ohhh.” Axel nodded. “It’s a secret.”
“A super secret.”
Everything was super to Axel when it was being stressed.
“A super secret.” He nodded and looked like he’d accepted a mission of some kind. “I got it.”
“A nursing home?” I blinked at my daughter. “Really?”
She smiled wide, and it warmed my heart.
She was the picture of her mother, and apart from my dimples, no one would ever guess she was my daughter. Bronagh got all the genetic rights to our firstborn; she got those rights with Quinn, too. He was the only one of my sons who resembled his mother more than me. He had her green eyes, her perfect complexion, her nose, her mouth. Everything. The rest of our boys got my genetics, which meant they looked the Slater part. Beau was the spitting image of Damien’s firstborn son, and since they were close in age, people often thought they were twins, which amused them greatly.
“I’m only teasin’,” Georgie assured me with a wink. “I’d never put you in an old folk’s home. I wouldn’t be able to carry ye’.”
I snorted. “Watch your brother while I go shower.”
Georgie saluted me, then ducked out of my reach with Axel, both screaming with laughter when I fake dived for them. A big smile stretched across my face as I left the room and jogged upstairs. I heard music blaring from the bedroom in the attic that we’d converted a few years before Axel was born. It was Beau’s room, and ever since he hit his teenage years, I was considering soundproofing the damn thing because Beau only understood one volume, and that was loud.
“Beau!” I yelled and banged on the rail of the spiral stairs that led up to his room. “Boy, you better answer me.”
The music switched off, and the door to his room opened ever so slightly.
“What, Da?”
“Turn that garbage down!” I warned. “We have neighbours, you know?”
“Sorry,” Beau said, popping his head out just enough for me to see he was red faced and sweating. “I’ll keep it low.”
His door clicked then, and just as I was about to walk up the stairs to see what he was doing, I paused. The last time I walked into his room unannounced, I got an eyeful of my teenager jerking off like there was no tomorrow. He couldn’t look me in the eye for a week after that happened, and since it only occurred a few months ago, I had to keep boundaries and respect his privacy. I remembered what it was like to be fourteen and hormonal. You got wood from something as simple as sniffing fucking flowers.
The only difference between me and my son was that I didn’t have to jerk off. I had paid escorts to take care of my needs. I was sure that was a perk from my past life that Beau would desperately love to avail of. With a grin, I shook my head and walked into my bedroom. I glanced at the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running. I quickly closed the bedroom door, kicked off my boxers, and tiptoed my way into the bathroom.