"Yes, Uncle Slayde."
He went to the door, opening it to a stud in leather. "Can I help you?" Lick you all over? Direct you to Austin?
"It's Slayde, right?"
"Yes, sir." He held firm to the door. No way was he letting this guy in, no matter how hot the man was.
The guy put his hands on his hips. Shit, he was amazing. "Drake Baltimore. Mindy's big brother. Are you going to let me in?"
"Nope. Do you have any ID?" He'd never met Drake, somehow. The man tended to visit when he was on vacation.
"Excuse me?"
"ID. Identification. Driver's license. Military ID. Something with your picture and your name and some way to prove you are you." Slayde wouldn't risk these babies.
The guy stared at him for a long moment before pulling out a wallet from his back pocket, opening it, and holding it up to his face. "Happy now?"
"Well, no, but you're Drake. How can I help you?"
"You can let me in." Drake was starting to growl now.
"What's wrong?" He backed up, frowning. "Mindy didn't mention you were coming."
"I told her it would be okay, that I'd take care of everything. So I'm here to take care of the kids." Drake stepped over the threshold, and Slayde noticed for the first time Drake had a bag over his shoulder. "So where're the rugrats?"
"Take care of the kids?" Oh, he didn't think so. "They're having art time and waiting for lunch. You are not disrupting them before naptime." Who the fuck was this asshole?
"I'm not going to…" Drake snorted and headed for the kitchen. "Hey, Christian! Come say hi to your Uncle Drake."
The kids stared, all of them, then Jenny started to cry.
"Great." The kids all looked at Slayde, eyes wide. "You have company, how neat is that? Momma must have forgotten to email and remind us!" He was going to kill someone.
"Christian? I know Jenny's too little to remember me, but you and Maggie must."
"Do you remember your uncle? Momma's brother? He came last summer and you went to San Antonio to see the dolphins?"
"We had cotton candy and alligator on a stick?" For the first time since Slayde had answered the door, Drake looked disconcerted.
Christian came to him, took his hand, and Slayde knelt down. "He's the one with the motorcycle."
"Oh…" Christian's eyes lit up.
"Your Mom called me to let me know she was going away and I came as soon as I could."
But why? And why didn't she let Slayde know?
Drake stepped from foot to foot. "So uh. It's lunch time, huh?"
"It is." Slayde sighed, went to Maggie, who looked stunned. "Peanut butter sandwich, Mags? Or spaghetti?"
"We could go to McDonald's. My treat."
"No. No, we can't." He shook his head, eyes wide. "Maggie is gluten-free, Uncle Drake, and Jenny is terrified of Ronald. Like hysterical."
"But I like McDonald's!" Christian whined.
"Gluten-free? What the hell is that?" Drake grinned at Christian. "I like McDonald's too."
"Gluten-free. No wheat. No barley. No buns. No wheat-soaked French fries. No McDonald's." Oh, God. What was the son of a bitch doing here?
"Seriously?" Drake gave him a wide-eyed look. "What does that leave?"
"Food." He bit the word out. "Peanut butter and jelly, guys?"
Maggie nodded, Jenny threw a crayon, and Christian burst into tears.
Drake turned to him. "You call this taking care of the kids?"
"Get out." He pointed to the front door. "Now." Right now this was his responsibility. This was his home and he was in charge of taking care of things until Mindy came back.
"I don't think so." Drake crossed his arms over his chest and glared.
"I will not do this in front of the children and they need their lunches. If you'd like to come back in the morning, after I get a chance to speak with their mother, that can be arranged." He was going to lose his shit.
"I biked all the way from California, man. I'm not 'coming back in the morning'. These are my flesh and blood. You're the interloper here." Drake went to the cupboards and began to look through them. "How does she eat peanut butter and jam without bread?"
"I make the family gluten-free bread." Interloper? Him? He'd spent exactly five weeks away from these children since Christian was born. He'd been in the delivery room when Jenny was born, for Christ's sake.
He picked Jenny up and looked at Christian. "Dry it up, kiddo. Sandwiches, then a nap. We're making pizza for supper, if you're good, remember? And there's cartoons this afternoon."
"Okay, then." Drake opened the cupboard with the peanut butter. "Aha! Success. See? I can feed them."
"That's Uncle Slayde's peanut butter, not ours." Christian frowned. "Uncle Slayde's has pieces in it."
Drake poked around, finding the creamy peanut butter. "This one, kid?"
"I'll get it." Slayde got milk for the baby, apple juice for the other two. Carrot sticks and bananas, three pieces of gluten-free bread cut, Christian's crust removed. Strawberry for the boy, grape jelly for the girls.
Drake leaned against the cupboard and watched. "That's quite the production."
"It is." He cut the baby's sandwich into little pieces; the other two got halves. His head was going to explode.
"I'll have mine with grape jelly. A whole one as I'm a much bigger boy than Christian."
He made sure the kids were eating, then he handed Drake two pieces of bread on a plate. "Here." Coffee. He needed coffee.
"Gee, thanks." Drake grabbed the peanut butter and slathered some on his bread, added grape jelly, and closed the sandwich. Then he poured himself a big glass of milk and sat at the table, grinning at the kids.
Jenny was almost asleep in her sandwich and Maggie was singing to her banana. Christian chattered while Slayde poured himself a huge cup of coffee.
"Okay, you three. Finish up. Maggie, do you need to potty before nap?"
"They're all out of diapers? That's cool." God, Drake was clueless.
He didn't bother to answer. He picked Jenny up, took Maggie's plate. "Christian, you have five more minutes, okay?"
"Uh-huh. Five minutes."
"Everything's run military style, I see," Drake noted.
"Everything runs." He really
