Mannies Incorporated, Michael, Sean [novels for teenagers txt] 📗

he didn't think Julie Andrews had ever filled out a pair of jeans the way Slayde did.

"Oh, you found the bags, cool." Slayde looked at them. "This is Mindy's new fixation. No plastic. I do more laundry…"

"Easy for her to say -- she's not here dealing with it." He'd have told her to do it on her own watch.

"Yeah, well, she's the boss."

He grunted. He might have to talk to her about that. About the fact that Slayde worked his ass off, all the time. It wasn't right. The man wasn't family. Hell, he wouldn't put family through this.

"So, are we ready to go?"

"Christian's going to the restroom and we can. Let me put the rest of lunch together real quick."

"There's more?"

"Carrot sticks, grapes, juice boxes." Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Super Nanny," murmured Drake.

Hazel eyes stared at him. "I'm going to tell Christian you swore."

"What?" What had he done now?

Slayde grinned. "Teasing me."

"If you're going to start making up reasons to watch me do push-ups…"

"Would I do that?"

Oh. Oh, that was dangerous. He couldn't afford to flirt and they were coming dangerously close here. He made himself chuckle. "I'm not sure you've got time to do that." He added a wink.

"Probably not, no."

They stared at each other for a moment. "So…library?"

"Yep. Come on, kids. To the van!"

Good lord, he was going to be traveling in a van full of kids.

How…domesticated.

Chapter Four

"So, are you going to come dancing on Saturday?" Joey sounded so excited.

"No. No, maybe next weekend, honey. Drake is so new to all this, and I'll want to spend the night if I'm drinking." He pulled out the stuff for macaroni and cheese and hot dogs. "Also, Christian and Jenny are awake and you're on speaker phone."

"I'm going to hold you to next weekend. We miss you. And there's this new guy working at the shop…"

"Yeah? Cute?" He needed a blow job in the worst way. Hand job. Hell, a hug. He could use a hug.

"Who's cute?" Drake asked, looking freshly scrubbed after his shower.

"Oh, just talking to my friend." He nodded to the phone. "Joey, Drake. Drake, Joey."

"Uncle Slayde's going dancing with a new guy next week." Christian informed Drake.

"I see."

"Maybe. I said maybe." Christ. "Say hello to Christian, Joey."

"Hey, sweetie. How was your day?"

"Uncle Slayde is making macamaronis!"

Drake chuckled and stared setting the table.

"With hot dogs? Goodie."

He rolled his eyes. Yeah. Yum. "Be good, Joey."

Drake snorted and grabbed the utensils.

"Are you coming to supper with your husband?" Christian loved Joey and was fascinated by Travis' rainbow striped hair.

"Uh. No, sweetie. Me and Travis, we have to work."

"Nice save," he muttered.

"That was a euphemism?" Drake asked under his breath as he grabbed the glasses out of the cupboard next to Slayde.

"I don't ask when he's on speaker phone."

"I can take this over if you want to talk to him privately."

"Nah, we were just chatting. I need to start cooking, man. I'll call later?"

"Have a good one. I'll keep my fingers crossed for next weekend."

"You'd better come next weekend. Bye, honey."

"What's happening next weekend?" Drake asked.

"Joey wants me to come dancing with them."

He missed dancing, swaying and moving namelessly with a bunch of other guys.

"Yeah? You like that?"

"Dancing? Sure. Doesn't everybody?" He started the water boiling, keeping an ear out for the girls.

Drake shrugged. "People who can, yeah."

He had no idea what to say to that, so he didn't. Drake wasn't into guys and God knew Mindy and Jerry never went dancing, so maybe it was just him.

He started the béchamel sauce, pondering what he was going to eat, after the kids were in bed.

"Hey, that's not regular macaroni, that's fancy sauce." Drake grinned. "And here I thought we were going to have mac'n cheese out of a box."

His nose winkled. "Nope. It has gluten."

"And we're gluten-free. What is gluten exactly anyway?"

"It's a protein that is found in wheat and barley and stuff. It makes Maggie poop blood."

"Gross." Drake frowned and pointed at the macaroni. "Doesn't that have gluten, then?"

He held up the container. "Rice pasta."

"That's pretty neat."

"There's a bunch of kinds. They like this one for macaroni." God knew they'd experimented with a thousand.

"Huh. Cool." Drake looked at the macaroni suspiciously.

"It's cheesy, slimy, and has hot dogs."

"Great…" Drake looked like it was going to jump out of the saucepan and bite him.

"Uh-huh." Fabulous.

"So uh…" Drake stepped closer. He could feel the heat coming off the man, could smell him. "Are we allowed to have something else? Anything. Hell, I'll even have PB & J again."

"After they go to bed, we can order a pizza and eat it in the back yard."

Drake beamed at him. "Awesome."

God, that was an amazing smile.

"Just don't tell." And don't ask. Or look. Or anything. God. He needed to get laid.

He got another awesome smile, and Drake stood a little closer. "It'll be our secret."

"I'm good at keeping secrets." Oh, stop it.

Drake grinned at him, winked. "Good."

Okay, no deciding Mr. I Think Gluten-Free Bread Sucks was cute. Not even a little. Of course that didn't mean Drake wasn't a stud. Slayde almost wished the man would swear again.

"Can you please check on the girls?" Stand somewhere else?

"Yeah, okay. How long 'til supper?" Drake wasn't moving yet and the man smelled so good.

"An hour or so."

"Okay." Drake lingered a moment longer, looking at him, and then seemed almost to shake himself turning and going.

Slayde needed to… He didn't know. Shit, maybe all he needed to do was have a conversation with the big grumpy bastard.

Two minutes later Drake was back. "Girls are watching Lilo and Stitch. How come you're not, Christian?"

"That's a girl's movie."

"Are you kidding? It's got all that great Elvis music and an alien."

Christian wrinkled his nose. "I don't like it."

"How about Elvis, though? He's the king, you know." Drake began to rock his hips from side to side. "One for the money, two for the show." Not a bad singing voice. And Drake had said he couldn't dance, but he sure could move his hips.

Slayde was a bad man. Really. Because he