The girls giggle as if they find me funny as fuck, and my French may still be pretty goddamn tragic despite living in our chateau for the better part of eight years, but it’s not that bad. Most of the time I say shit wrong just to get a laugh out of them.
Once a showman, always a showman.
The truth is, I’d do anything to see their little faces light up.
Brie laughs and cracks open an eyelid. “Silly, Daddy.”
And my dick just got harder.
I fucking love it when she calls me Daddy. Her grin says she knows it too.
Our eldest, Ash, wanders in carrying the baby, Août. He says something in baby gibberish, waving his chubby arms in the air as if he could propel himself forward toward the fleabag crushing my chest. Dog sits up and lets out an excited yip, his tail wagging rapidly and smacking me in the face.
“Maman,” Ash says. “Why are the girls carrying on like the pork chops?”
I laugh, because I taught him that phrase and it’s fucking hilarious coming from this serious little French kid.
“That’s what girls do, buddy. Trust me, it’s so much easier if you just nod and say yes to everything.”
“I will remember you said this when next I need a girl’s night out,” Brie says.
I laugh. “You can’t leave me alone with all of these kids, we’ll set the house on fire.”
“Not if I send my mother to help you.”
“Nooooo, anything but grandma,” I protest as I sit up and cover the family jewels with a pillow so the tiny humans don’t nut me with their jumping. Aurelie climbs over me and pulls my cheeks, nose, and brows into a series of strange expressions which makes her giggle. Then all the kids pile on and start poking and prodding at me while I pretend to snap my ferocious jaws at them like a beast.
“You’re so silly, Père.”
“Mes enfants.” Brie sighs. “It is far too early for this. Go play until it’s time to open presents.”
“Yeah, begone you little punks. And take your stinky brother with you,” I lift Août into the air and fly him around like a plane. He squeals in delight, his little green eyes lighting up as a string of drool falls from his mouth to splatter my chest. “I’ve got a present for mummy and there are no kids allowed.”
“What is it, Père?” Amelie asks.
Anais’s eyes light up. “Is it diamonds?”
“Is it pearls?” Aurelie says.
Ash rolls his eyes. “Maman already has those.”
I smirk at Brie, who cracks one eyelid. A devious smile plays on her lips.
Oh, how we both love those pearls.
“Obviously I can’t tell you, it would ruin the surprise.”
“The only present I want is sleep,” Brie murmurs.
“Hey, kids, you know who loves being woken early by hordes of screaming children? Aunt Ali and Uncle Cooper,” I say, as I fight off several kisses from Dog. He turns his attention to Aurelie and then Août’s soiled nappy. “Why don’t you go jump on their bed? I bet they’re just dying to see your presents too.”
“Non, Père. We want to see.” Amelie pouts.
“Nope. No can do. It’s for mummy’s eyes only. Now go, or the Lutins will come for you in your sleep, tie knots in your hair, and chop it off.”
The girls all squawk and flee the room. Août turns his head dramatically back and forth between us and the door with a deer in headlights expression, no doubt wondering where the hell his sisters went, but Ash climbs onto his mother’s back and cuddles in.
“That means you too, buddy.”
He shakes his head, accidently whipping Brie in the face with his long blond locks. “Aunt Ali is scary in the mornings.”
I chuckle. “Hmm, she does bear an uncanny resemblance to Cthulhu when awoken, it’s best not to look her in the eye.”
Ash chuckles. Sometimes he reminds me so much of his namesake—weird, given that he’s my kid in every way, but it’s true all the same. He’s serious, yet funny, quiet, but he knows how to keep up with his ADHD dad, and best of all; my demons lie dormant with just one look at his face. He reminds me every day that I’ve worked too hard, and I have too much to lose, to fuck it all up with a single drink. They all do. Every person in this house is family, from my bandmates and their wives to Brie’s best friend, Piaf, to Margaux and her man Gaétan.
“Do me a favour and take your brother to Grandma? She loves changing stinky nappies.”
Ash side-eyes me. “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Non.”
“Come on buddy. What’s it gonna take?”
Brie clears her throat. “You’re bribing our son for alone time?”
“Hey, I will pay any price for alone time with my woman.”
“You should not have said that.” Her lips twist into a wry grin. “Take him to the cleaners, mon précieux.”
“I want an anteater.”
I cough to hide my laughter. “A what now?”
“Anteater. I want an ant eater like Dali.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“I like their long tongues.” He shrugs. “I just want one.”
I screw up my nose. “Why can’t you want a pony like a normal kid?”
“I don’t want a pony.”
“How about another dog?”
“We have a dog.”
“I can’t promise an anteater, kid. I don’t even know if that’s legal, but I can get you a pig, a snake, a calf, a dog, a cat—”
“No cats,” Brie commands. “Monsieur Chat will not be happy.”
“Fine, no cats. What about a pet lizard?”
“I want a pig.”
“Sold!”
“Mon Dieu! Levi,” Brie says. “Where exactly are we going to keep a pig?”
I shrug. “Beats me. We’ll figure it out.”
“I am not having a dirty hoofer in my house, I already have one of those.”
“Cute, AFG. Real cute.” I slap her arse and she squirms against the mattress. “Alright, Kid. You got yourself a deal. Now get out so I can give Maman her present.”
Ash screws up his nose, and I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what I plan on giving the mother of my children. Of course, he’s the eldest, so he’s no stranger to our loud sex sessions—sometimes all over the house. He slides off the bed and holds his hands out for the baby who crawls across my legs and leaps into his older brother’s arms. The two leave the room and I set my sights on the woman beside me.
“I figure we have about ten minutes before we’re interrupted.” I get up and close the door, locking it tight. Then I walk to the French doors leading out to the pool and lock those too. I turn and stare at my angry French girl on her side, her elbow bent, head propped up on her palm as her eyes follow me and my giant erection across the room.
“Levi, my love,” she whispers in a tone that sends blood straight to my dick. “I don’t want any more presents.”
“What? That’s stupid. Everyone loves presents.”
“I have five bébés under seven. Every time you give me a present, I wind up pregnant. I don’t want any more presents.”
“Oh, come on. What could another kid hurt?”
“My vagina for one. If you like fucking it, I suggest you stop impregnating my womb. As it is, I’m terrified it’s going to fall out every time I stand up or sneeze.”
“Well now you’re just being ridiculous, your pussy is still as tight as the day I met you, AFG.”
“How would you know? I didn’t fuck you when I met you.”
“I know.” I grab her ankle and flip her over on her back, then I yank her down the bed. “You made me wait for weeks, you little cock tease.”
“Someone had to teach you that you can’t have everything you want exactly when you want it.”
“What do you call this?”
“I’d call it lucky we have a house full of guests who can watch our five-hundred children.”
I chuckle and climb up h
er body. “Brie, you know I love you.”
“Of course.”
“You know I would die before I ever hurt you again?”
“I know.”
“I’m a different man with you.”
“That’s because I bring out the best in you,” she says with a wry grin.
“You do, and I don’t ever want to be without you.”
She frowns and strokes her long skilled fingers through my hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. Then I want you to marry me.”
She laughs, as if I’m joking, but quickly sobers. “Are you asking or demanding?”
“I’m hoping, with whatever is left of this broken, beaten heart. I’m praying to gods that I don’t believe in, and I’m begging you to be my wife.”
She laughs, tears well in her eyes.
“Brielle Kagawa, will you do me the greatest honour and marry me?”
“Yes! Yes of course.”
“Today?”
Her smile vanishes and she arches her brows. “What?”
“Will you marry me today?”
“Are you crazy? It’s Christmas. Where would we get married?”
“In the yard. No paparazzi, no media circus, just you, me, our kids, and all the people we love. Everyone is already right here in this house.”
“Did you ... did you plan this?”
“Er ... kinda. Yeah.”
“What if I had said no?”
“I figured you were a sure thing.”
“Seven years and you never disappoint.”
“Pretty sure that’s not true, but if you marry me, I’ll spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to not disappoint you.”
“Well, I guess since Coop is already taken, you’ll have to do,” she says with a feigned sigh. Brie wraps her arms around my neck and smiles against my lips.
“It’s lucky you’re hot and French, AFG, because you are so not funny.”
“Come on, it’s a little funny.”
“Not even a bit.”
She chuckles. The sight of her smile does things to my insides, it does things to my cock too. I climb between her legs, grind myself against the sweet cleft of her pussy and she arches off the mattress, her body clearly eager to meet mine.
The woman I love agreeing to marry me is one thing, but sex on Christmas morning just made this my favourite holiday ever.
AFTER WE’RE SHOWERED and the kids come banging on the door for a fourth time, we leave the bedroom and head to the east wing of the chateau.
Deb rolls her eyes and leans back against Zed’s naked chest. “Now that your sex fest is done and your brats have woken us all, can we go back to bed already?”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Deb.”
“She’s cranky because Margaux wouldn’t let her near the coffee,” Piaf chirps.
I grimace. “Oh shit.”
Deb’s scowl grows deeper. “You’d be pissed too if my little brats barged in on you.”
Zed chuckles. “Babe, are you saying you wanna have brats with me?”
“No.” Coop practically unseats Ali from his lap as he stands up and points at Zed. “No, you are not knocking my sister up.”
“And this is my cue to help Maman with the bébés.” Brie kisses my cheek and scurries off toward the kid’s rooms.
Piaf extricates herself from Kit’s embrace and gives a sheepish smile. “I’ll come.”
“You can’t tell him not to knock me up.” Deb stands too and gets in her brother’s face. “If I want brats with Zed, then I’ll have them.”
I flop down next to Ali and throw my arm over her shoulder. “It’s so nice when the kids get along.”
Ali smiles. “Nothing warms my cold, dead heart more.”
Margaux exits the kitchen and opens her mouth as if to speak but seems to think better of it when Deb and Coop’s argument escalates. My housekeeper and chef throws me a pointed look and turns on her heel.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this little sibling love fest,” I say. “I think breakfast is ready.”
“Thank fuck. I thought this Ryan Family Feud would go on forever.” Zed stands and stretches.
“Yeah there’s kinda no stopping those hot-headed Ryans once they get started.”
“Hey, you’re not off the fucking hook yet, brother,” Coop says directing his glower at Zed.
Deb turns on me. “And let’s not forget it was your brats who started this in the first place.”
“Well, I did kick them out so I could bang my hot ... fiancée, but I told them to go and wake Ali and Coop. Nobody said anything about you two.”
Ali laughs. “They’re probably just attracted to Zed’s inner child.”
“Inner child?” Deb asks. “More like child, full stop.”
Zed shrugs as he strokes Deb’s back. “I can’t help it if I’m the fun uncle. I don’t remember you complaining before we were interrupted, babe.”
“Ew, dude. It’s bad enough you’re fucking my sister. I don’t need the details of how and when, and that you’re planning little demonlings,” Coop says.
Deb flips her brother off. “Oh please, as if it even remotely compares to you, Levi, and Ali fucking all of those months on the tour bus.”
Zed grins and buries his face in Deb’s neck, kissing and sucking obnoxiously loud. I give him a mental high five, because it’s always fun to see Cooper squirm.
“And that, my friends, is my cue to tell you breakfast is ready. My kids are getting antsy about not opening their presents already, and I invited all your lame asses here to attend my fucking wedding today, so if we could quit bickering for five fuckin’ seconds, that would be swell.”
“Get out.” Ali punches my arm, hard. For a pint-sized ranga, she sure is bloody strong.
I glare at her. “Ow.”
“You’re getting married and didn’t tell us?”
I shrug. “I didn’t know she’d say yes until today.”
My ex gives me a look that screams “you’re too dumb to live” and I can’t help but smile.
“What the fuck, Levi?” Deb demands. “You couldn’t give us a heads up? Are we just supposed to rock up in our goddamn sweats?”
“You can wear pyjamas for all I care. I don’t give a shit what the fuck you wear, just be in the back yard at four.”
“I sleep nude,” Zed supplies, as if we didn’t all know that shit after sharing a tour bus with him for twelve years.
“Then you’re wearing clothes,” I say. He pouts. “It’s not optional, Atwood.”
“Fine.” He sighs, his shoulders deflating. “It’s probably gonna snow anyway.”
“Yeah. ’Cause snow is your biggest concern when you’re stark fuckin’ naked in front of my kids.”
Ash comes tearing through the living room followed by Dog and the rest of my brood. My hot-as-fuck fiancée walks in with the baby on her hip and I can’t help but want to give her another.
I want All. The. Kids.
I want Brie, from now until the end of forever, and I want all my family there to witness the promises we make one another today.
God knows why.
They’ll likely turn my wedding into a shitshow.
Ash, Anais, Aurelie, and Amelie tear around the room in a game of tag while Dog yips like an overgrown puppy and skids along the polished floors in excitement.
“Ash, arrête de courir!” Brielle covers Aout’s ears as she shouts. “Stop running!”
Ash zooms past again and I reach out and grab his arm, causing my kid to stop short and, subsequently, Dog to barrel into the back of him.
“Père,” Ash complains struggling in my grasp.
“I gotta talk to you, buddy.”
“Is it about my pig?”
“No.” I glance at Brie and then back at my son. “It’s about me marrying your mum today.”
“Oh. Can I get my pig afterward?”
I grin down at the insistent little fucker. “Yeah. Later we’ll sort your pig. Right now, I wan
na ask you something important.”
“Oui.”
“You never got to meet your namesake, Ash—”
“What’s a naysake?” Aurelie says, working hard to shape the word with her fucking adorable little mouth.
“Namesake,” Brie corrects. “And it’s someone you’re named after.”
“The grand garçon?” Ash stares up at me expectantly, as if he’s waiting for confirmation. I need to learn more French. He rolls his eyes. “From your band?”
“Yeah. He was our bassist before Uncle Kit came along.” I crouch down in front of my kid and rest my hand on his shoulder. “He was my wing man, my best friend, and he was supposed to be here today.”
“Then why isn’t he?”
“Because he got sick, remember? He died before you were born.”
“Il est rentré chez lui.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that means.”
Ash chuckles, my kids like making fun of my paltry knowledge of the French language as much as their mother does. “He has gone home.”
I nod and give the kid a wistful smile. “Something like that.”
“Do you miss him, Père?”
“Every second of every day,” Coop says.
“We all do,” Zed says. I glance at my bandmates’ solemn faces.
“With every breath.” I squeeze Ash’s shoulder. “He was supposed to be my best man.”
“What’s a best man?” Ash says.
“He’s your guy. He’s got your back if the wedding turns to shi”—I glance at Brie and quickly reselect my words wisely—“If it all turns to hell.”
“I wanna be a best man!” Amelie stomps her foot.
Anais scrunches up her face and says, “Can I be your best woman?”
I chuckle. “Sure.”
“No fair,” Amelie says. “I want to be a best woman too.”
“You can all be my best women.”
“Nope. I wanna be a princess,” Aurelie says, twirling in her footie pyjamas until she gets tangled up in Dog and the two of them go down in a heap.
“You got it, kiddo.” I glance at Ash again. “So what do you say, man? Will you have my back?”
He nods resolutely. “Oui. I got your back, bro.”
I laugh and grab his face, pulling him closer to kiss his forehead. “Who’s ready for presents?”
WHITE POWDER BLANKETS the ground and it’s cold as fuck when I step outside with Ash, Amelie, and Anais. All three kids tear up the makeshift aisle in front of a thicket of trees, their branches bowed and heavy with snow.
TAINTED: THE COMPLETE DUET Page 54
