Love Is Hell: A Valentine's Story, Book 1 [The Male Order, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Edith DuBois

  “What did he say exactly?”

  “He told John Ryan that he could ‘go eat poop,’ although I understand he used an alternative word choice.”

  “Oh no,” Gavin said, looking back at his son. A wave of embarrassment warmed his cheeks. He knew precisely where Gaston had heard that phrase and whom he’d heard it from. Emilie hadn’t known Gaston was behind her while engaged in a heated phone call with one of her father’s clients.

  “Gaston Henri, you know better. We’ll be talking about this with Mom and Papa Grayson when we get home.” He turned back to Mrs. Keys and whispered, “I’m sorry about this. I’ll be having a little chat with his mother as well.”

  Mrs. Keys chuckled. “It’s been a stressful day for everyone. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She stepped back and waved as they pulled away from the curb.

  On the way home, Gavin said, “I hope you apologized to John Ryan.”

  When Gaston didn’t answer, he asked, “Did you apologize?”

  “No, sir,” he mumbled.

  “Gaston, he’s your best friend. Are you gonna let a woman come between you?”

  “He shoulda shared, Papa.”

  “That’s true, but you can’t tell him to go eat poop. You gotta tell him that you two came to an agreement and he didn’t follow that, and that is totally, one hundred percent against the sacred man code. You remember when you and me and Papa Grayson talked about the sacred man code?” In the rearview mirror, he could see Gaston nod. They’d begun teaching him a few of the major bullet points of sacred man code. All the really important things. Things that had been passed down from his dads. Things that Gaston could pass down to his son one day. It was good to know that he son was at least paying attention to the important stuff. “Good, so did you at least get to give Marcy your card?”

  “She didn’t want it after what I said.”

  “Do you think maybe she wanted you to apologize to John Ryan, too?”

  “No. She don’t like me.”

  “Did she tell you that? Did she say, ‘Gaston Henri, I don’t like you. I like John Ryan instead.’?” There was a long silence from the backseat, and when Gavin glanced in the mirror, his son had his lips pursed and appeared to be thinking very hard about the question. “Well, did she?” he urged.

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, hot dog! There you go. I think she likes you both, and you should tell her that you like her tomorrow. You should tell her that you and John Ryan both like her and just see what she says.”

  “But Valentine’s Day is over. It’s too late. I can’t give her my card now.”

  “Gaston Henri.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I am going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me and remember what I tell you. Can you do that? Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When it comes to love, son, it is never, ever too late. It’s never too late to tell her, to show her, to prove to her, to do whatever it takes to let her know that you love her. Do you understand me? If you really mean it with all of your heart, it is never too late to say, ‘I love you.’ Can you remember that?”

  “Yeah,” Gaston muttered.

  “What do you mean, ‘yeah’?” He mimicked Gaston’s morose tone. “I’m gonna need a little more gusto than that, son. Let me really hear it. Say it like you mean it. Say, ‘Yeah!’”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah! Come on, we’ll say it together. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” He pumped his fist in the air, encouraging Gaston to join in. At first his son was hesitant, but then he started chanting along. Pretty soon, Penny woke up. Gaston tickled her and got her to chant with them so that when they pulled into the driveway, they were all three pumping their fists and chanting, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

  Gavin put the car in park, turned off the engine, got out, and then opened the back door to pull Penny out of her car seat, all while chanting, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

  They ran up to the house, Penny slung over one hip and Gaston clomping in his boots alongside him, chanting, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”

  Once they got inside, Gavin put Penny down and squatted in front of his two beautiful children who were panting and still giggling a little bit. He smoothed Penny’s dark flyaway hairs from her face and then ruffled Gaston Henri’s locks.

  “I love you.” He kissed Penny’s forehead. “And I love you.” He kissed Gaston’s forehead. Then he pulled them both in to hug them. “Happy Valentine’s Day, pipsqueaks. There’s something from Mom and Papa Grayson and me on your beds. So run and get it and then come back to the kitchen for some grub. Okay?”

  “Okay!” they squealed. When he let them go, they pattered away shouting intermittent “yeahs” on the way to their rooms.

  Gavin glanced at his phone and noticed that it was already half past five. Usually Emilie and Grayson would be home from the city by now. He sent them a quick text, asking where they were and when they would get back. He still had to finish with the kids’ supper and get them washed up before the babysitter arrived at seven.

  Out of the three of them, Gavin was the “home manager,” as he liked to call it. Grayson and Emilie got driven to the Haymitch-Benson office in Dallas every morning at five and then returned home again around five or five thirty. He’d asked them to try for four thirty this afternoon, but that obviously wasn’t happening. Gavin had been hoping to snag a little time to do work on the computer before the babysitter arrived, but with the holdup with Mrs. Keys and now Emilie and Grayson returning home late, plus their Valentine’s plans for the evening, it didn’t look like he was going to get that. Pushing down the annoyance and aggravation he felt at the missed opportunity, he tried not to let it bother him that Emilie and Grayson were late. He tried not to let it bother him that they hadn’t texted or e-mailed him anything to let him know what was going on. And he tried not to let it bother him that he had a shitload of tasks to accomplish on the computer today that would have to be pushed back to tomorrow. He sighed and turned on the oven.

  He’d cooked the chicken and pasta before picking up the kiddos and now he would finish making a batch of baked macaroni and cheese with chicken while Gaston and Penny watched their after-school cartoons. In all his wild days of youthful glory, he’d never envisioned himself as the type of dude who would enjoy cooking, but he had to admit that he made a damn fine dish of noodles and cheese.

  His phone lit up, and he read Emilie’s response.

  “Sorry, love. Drinks with Lars and his crew went a bit over. Be home around 6:15. Kees Kees.”

  Lars was a prospective client they’d been talking to about investing in the Dallas Outlaws. He owned a burgeoning solar energy company in west Texas, and much like Grayson and Gavin, had grown up loving the Outlaws. Unfortunately, Lars only got into town about one day every three months, and today was the only one he could meet with Emilie and Grayson.

  Gavin growled at his phone. He also gave it a little shake while glaring at the screen. What he typed back to his wife was, “Okay! See you two soon! Don’t forget Gabby gets here at 7.” He stared at the message. Then deleted the last period and added three exclamation points instead. Somehow over the past few years, he’d become the responsible one when it came to time management and organizing household affairs, so he knew Emilie and Grayson would pick up on his censure. In the last few months in particular, though, it seemed as if they had completely given up trying to make things easy for him around the house.

  He eyed his text critically, trying to envision how they would read it and what would be most effective in getting him home quicker. Throwing in some exclamation points never hurt in the “this is just a gentle reminder but could you really hurry it up” department. Tonight had to be perfect. He’d planned everything down to a tee.

  A few moments later, however, Grayson wrote back, “Don’t get your panties in a wad. We’ll be there in a few.”

  He stuffed his phone back in his pocket, too annoyed to think of anything nicer than “piss off” to send back to
his brother. He’d just have to get things organized by himself, much like he always did.

  He checked on his two runts. An episode of Arthur had just come on, and Penny was softly humming along to the theme song, cuddling with one of her Valentine’s Day presents. Penny loved Puffalumps. They were her favorite kind of stuffed animal, and Emilie found a vintage white-and-red special edition Puffalump from 1986 for her. She was already clutching this one to her chest and stroking its long ears in adoration.

  They’d also gotten her a set of Ducobi teddy bears. They were bears made of china, black with inlaid mother-of-pearl designs. One had rose-colored koi fish swimming across belly and snout. One had a white geometric pattern spaced evenly across its whole body. Those weren’t for play, though, and he’d placed them on display in the trophy room. They would be heirlooms later. Both of the kids had a growing collection of such items in the trophy room.

  “Gaston, not so close, bud.” Without looking away from the screen, Gaston scooted back approximately two and three-fourths inches. “A little more,” Gavin said. There was another two-inch scoot. “More.” With a world-weary sigh, Gaston scooted back about a foot. “Thanks, bud. After this one, supper will be ready.”

  He went back to the kitchen to sauté some green beans. After he finished the beans, he glanced at his phone again. It was already ten past six. “Getting close?” he sent to Emilie and Grayson.

  “Chill!” Grayson sent back less than ten seconds later.

  Gavin still couldn’t come up with anything nicer than “piss off,” so he put his phone away for a second, sucked in a deep breath, and counted to seven. He held the breath in his lungs for another seven seconds, and then he slowly released it for a final seven seconds.

  He pulled his phone back out.

  “Kindly hurry,” he typed, pleased with his maturity and overall penchant for civility.

  “Kindly chill!” Grayson immediately sent back. “Also, kindly consider pulling stick out of ass.”

  Gavin had already begun typing a few choice words when a message from Emilie popped up. “Sweetie, ignore your brother. He had a few too many martinis. Do you think you could get baths going? We might be a little later than we thought.” This was followed by a considerably large block of Xs and Os, plus some kissy lips, some pink hearts, and then some other frilly, lovey-dovey things.

  Obviously, Emilie had indulged in a few too many martinis as well because she had never sent him Xs and Os, and she had certainly never sent him pink hearts, much less a phalanx of them.

  The timer for the macaroni went off, and he heard Penny shout, “Gaston, let go of Mister Nanawig. He’s mine!” Then there was some high-pitched shrieking.

  Mister Nanawig? Where does she get this stuff?

  “Kids, dinner’s ready! Quit arguing and go wash your hands.”

  “Gastonnnnnnnnn!” Penny yelled and then started crying. “You ripped his ear off!” At least, that was what it sounded like Penny said. Gavin couldn’t quite be certain through the loud sobs that accompanied her shout. He opened the drawer where they kept the potholders. It was empty.

  “Youuuhhhrrppd sshhears OFFFFF!” There was a lot of shrieking in the mix that time.

  He opened the drawer next to it. That was the silverware drawer, though, and there were no potholders in it. He could have sworn he just had it in his hand.

  Penny’s wails were completely unintelligible now. Gavin opened and closed several other drawers looking for a damn potholder but couldn’t find a single one.

  “Daddy!” Penny cried out. He heard her stomping toward the kitchen. He also smelled something odd. Like something was burning. Like green beans were burning.

  “Goddamn it!”

  As he raced toward the stove, there was a small gasp behind him. “Daddy, you said a bad word.”

  “Don’t tell Mommy, okay? It was an accident, and I don’t want to ever hear you say what Daddy just said. Got it?”

  Penny nodded.

  “Good girl.”

  He turned the fire under the green beans off, which he had forgotten to do two minutes before when he’d finished cooking them. Then he whipped around toward Penny who stood in the doorway, eyes shining and red with her new Puffalump in one hand and her new Puffalump’s ear in the other.

  Penny stepped up next to the table. Her lower lip trembled, but he spotted the potholder on the table’s surface. He was gauging if he had enough time to snatch it up and pull the macaroni and cheese out of the oven before she devolved into full meltdown mode again when a fresh tear slipped down her cheek.

  Springing into action, he whisked her up, kissed her on the cheek, planted her in a chair, grabbed the potholder, bounded across the kitchen, pulled the dish out of the oven—it was only a little extra brown on top thankfully—and then dashed back over to his daughter who had begun some sort of hiccup-sniffle combo. He picked her up and then sat down with her in his lap.

  “It’s okay, sugar bear. Mommy will fix him right up. You know she will. Remember when she fixed up Mister Flarfy?” Mister Flarfy was her second Puffalump. He was yellow and had the longest ears of all her Puffalumps. This meant he had at least two or three ear-reattachment surgeries per year.

  “But Mister Nanawig hurts, Daddy. He told me. He told me Gaston hurt him. And how can he hear me if he doesn’t have an ear?” This sent her into a fresh fit of distress, and she started crying again. “He’s going to think I don’t love him.”

  It was borderline howling now.

  “I know, I know. It’s okay.” He held her and rocked her and kissed the top of her head. Gaston isn’t getting any of the chocolate mousse. That’s for damn sure, I don’t care what day it is. He rubbed Penny’s back until her sobs had died back down to the occasional hiccup. Where was that little miscreant anyway? He’d have to deal with him in a minute, after he got Penny started on her dinner. “Do you want me to put a cast on him until Mommy can perform real surgery?”

  Penny nodded.

  “Okay, I’m going to get you some food, and then I’ll get… was it Mister Nanawig?” he asked, awaiting confirmation on the name.

  She nodded again.

  “I’ll get some tape to make him a cast.”

  After he scooped out a plate of food for her and put her in her booster seat, he glanced at his phone. It was past six twenty, and neither Emilie nor Grayson had sent him any update on when they thought they’d get back.

  “Gaston Henri,” he bellowed down the stairs, “it’s dinnertime. Get your little tush in the kitchen now.”

  About twenty minutes later, they were all three in the kitchen. Penny had almost finished eating, and Gaston had sullenly made it through about half the food on his plate—he wasn’t happy about missing out on chocolate mousse—when they heard the front door open.

  “Finally,” Gavin said under his breath.

  “Mommy! Daddy!” Penny squealed. Gaston started fidgeting.

  Emilie’s melodious laugh floated down the hallway, and Grayson’s low-toned chuckle mixed in a moment later. Then there were some kissing noises, followed by more laughter, and then followed again by more kissing noises.

  “Can you two hurry? We’ve got some B-A-T-H-S’s to get underway if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, my darling,” Emilie said, waltzing through the kitchen doorway, “is that any way to say hello on Valentine’s Day?”

  Penny couldn’t contain herself. She leapt out of her chair and launched herself into Emilie’s arms, squealing, “Mommy!”

  Kissing-and-hugging chaos erupted as Emilie and Grayson said hello to the kids. Emilie snuck in a kiss to Gavin while Penny told her about Mister Nanawig’s tragic ear loss. After a few minutes of joyful reunion, Gavin started rounding and poking and prodding.

  “Emilie, can you get Penny started on her bath? Grayson, can you get Gaston started on his? I’ll take care of the kitchen. Also, Grayson, can you call Tosca Ristorante and tell them we might need to push our reservation back by thirty minutes?”

 
; “No prob.”

  “They said they’re not holding reservations without a call tonight, so don’t forget.”

  “Everything’s going to be all right, bro. Just take a deep breath.”

  “I’m fine. Just make sure you don’t forget to call.”

  Emilie whisked Penny out of her seat, tucked her on her hip, and then kissed Gavin on the cheek. “You are so très attractive when you are grouchy.”

  “I’m not grouchy,” he grumbled.

  Emilie only laughed, and with her free hand, she gave his ass an affectionate squeeze. “We will get this little one clean as fast as we can.”

  When he turned back toward the table, Grayson was grinning at him.

  “Why are you staring at me like an idiot? Get in there and look up the restaurant’s number.”

  “So touchy.” Grayson stood, nevertheless, and ambled out of the kitchen.

  “Hurry, hurry,” Gavin said to Gaston. “We still gotta get you in the bath.”

  “I don’t want to take a bath.”

  “Ah-ah,” Gavin said. “None of that tonight. You already lost your dessert. Do you want to lose your movie, too?”

  Gaston huffed and crossed his arms but shook his head.

  “Good. I expect you to be on your best behavior for Gabby tonight. She’s coming over special for you two because she likes you. She got asked by every family on this street, and your mom and dad and I were lucky enough to snag her, so I don’t want you giving her a hard time. Understand?”

  Gaston took a bite of his green beans and nodded.

  “Cool. Now give me a high-five.”

  He did.

  “Love you, little man.” Gaston grinned at him real big for a second and then went back to chewing. A few minutes later after Grayson had come in and gathered up their son, Gavin got the kitchen to himself and began cleaning up. A few minutes into the dishes he heard a large squeal, followed by some loud thumps, and Emilie’s laughter. A second or two after that, there were more large thumps, and Gaston had begun chanting a French rhyme. Grayson and Emilie joined in, and although Penny didn’t quite know the words, Gavin heard her shouting something along with them.