“The last thing these kids need is a sugar high,” a female voice murmured over the line.
Jameson moved his hand from Maddie’s backside and clapped it over her fingers on his chest. “Good morning, Judy!” he called to the woman he’d only heard about so far.
“Hey, Jameson. Are you sure we’re not intruding?”
“Positive. We’re both awake.” And one of us is up.
“Yeah…” Harley drew that word out. “It’s me, the boys, and my wife. Geez, I should’ve called later.”
“No, Harley,” Maddie spoke up. “Hurry. I can’t wait to see Georgie’s surprise.”
“When do you think you’ll be here?” Jameson asked as nonchalantly as he could.
“Ten minutes, maybe fifteen at the most. Boys. Not now. Shhhhh. I’m talking.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Jameson replied over the mayhem from Harley’s end of the connection.
“Great. See ya soon.”
And the scramble to get dressed and semi-presentable in less than ten minutes was on. Maddie jumped in the shower first. Jameson barged in behind her to save water. Yeah, right. The sudsy slide of his fingers down her belly earned him a half-hearted smack, but not before he urged a moan out of her.
“Harley’s twins don’t need sex education,” she muttered. “We can’t play now. Cease. Desist. Oh, heck..” Tipping up on her toes, she wound her arms around his neck. “At least don’t get my hair wet.”
Jameson filled his hands with the cheeks of her butt. “I definitely want a rain check,” he mumbled into her lips.
“Me, too,” she breathed, her voice so damned sultry, it was all Jameson could do to tear his hands off of her.
“Hurry,” she ordered as she pushed off and shut the shower door in his face.
“Awww…” he groused. “Not fair.”
Which made her laugh. And there it was, the tinkle of light-heartedness in his life that elicited the same feeling of contentment here, in his tiled, run-of-the-mill shower, of all places.
“Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” he called out as he shampooed his hair, then rinsed. Just that fast, his shower was done. Man-style.
“No, but you will,” she teased from the bathroom sink. “I’m going to get dressed and start a big pot of coffee. Step on it, honey.”
“I can’t step on it. It’s not that long,” he teased back as he opened the shower door, ready to show her precisely how long it was. Hello, morning.
She giggled on her way into their bedroom. “Clothes. We need clothes and—”
The doorbell rang.
“Yikes!” was the last thing Maddie squealed.
He closed the bathroom door behind her, just in case the bedroom door was still open.
More giggling, then the bedroom door shut. The entry door opened. Then Maddie’s bright, “Hello! Hi, Judy! Hi, boys! My goodness, you’ve both grown. Little A, your hair gets redder all the time, look at you! Jameson will be right out. Oh, my! Is that the surpr—?”
Several extra-loud “Shhhhhs” hissed from beyond Jameson’s bedroom, and didn’t that pique his curiosity? Hurriedly, he climbed into a clean pair of jeans and yesterday’s t-shirt, then slipped into his comfy leather loafers. His ensemble complete, he stalked out of his bedroom into his too-quiet living room. He cocked his head, gauging the distance between him and his woman.
“Can I?” one of Harley and Judy’s boys begged. “Please. It’s no fun if he can’t see him. I mean us. I mean—”
Jameson’s nostrils flared. Dog. He smelled dog, sweaty little boys, and a different feminine fragrance in the room. That had to be Judy. But a dog. That was a hard scent to miss.
A gentle tug on his wrist brought him to one knee. “Uncle Jameson.” That had to be Little A, so named because Little Alex had inadvertently created the misnomer, Big Alex. Which just did not work for anyone concerned.
But Jameson would never tire of knowing that, the moment he’d become part of The TEAM, he’d also become an uncle to all the agents’ children. Even to Alex and Kelsey’s, Lexie Rose and Bradley Patrick.
“Yes, Little A. What are you up to?” As if Jameson didn’t know.
The four-legged companion standing with Harley’s twin boy whined.
“Well, you see,” Little A replied evenly. Of the two boys, he was the calmer, more thoughtful twin. Georgie tended to be high-strung, to bounce off walls when he didn’t have anything to keep him occupied. He was more like Harley, full of nervous energy. “Daddy let me breed my dog, and I been really careful to take care of all the pups, and she had eight, but they’re getting big now, and one was too little. He’s the runt, and I hafta clean up all their poop every day, and make sure they don’t chew Mom’s shoes, cuz they really like her flipflops, and she gets really mad, and—” The kid finally inhaled a deep breath.
“Just tell him, son,” Harley interrupted quietly.
Little A must’ve turned to his dad because the direction of his voice shifted. “Well, okay, but anyway, here.” He took hold of Jameson’s right hand and pressed a leather leash into his palm. “You hafta hold on real tight because…” Big breath. “Daddy say’s I can’t keep ’em all, so I’m giving you my very best pup. He’s the runt, but he’s growing now, and he’s strong, and he’s my best friend, and I really love him, and I hope you really love him, too.”
But by then, Little A could barely speak. He was all out crying from that pure declaration of a child’s love for his best friend. A friend he was giving away.
Jameson leaned into the furry, wiggling pup at the other end of the leash. “A puppy?” he asked, blinking like a damn sissy. “For me? Are you sure?”
“Ah huh,” Little A sobbed. “He’s a purebred German Shepherd, Uncle Jameson, and he’s sable, and that makes him look like a wolf. But he’s really a good dog, and he’s just for you, cuz Daddy said maybe you could use someone to help you find your way around the streets and roads and sidewalks, and—” The little guy hiccupped.
