“They’re worse than Pilikia,” he said. “Maybe. Mantis’s dead ass would know. I did hear ‘cake’ right?”
“That’s between you and the boss,” Keaton told him.
Maya leaned down and gave Emerick a slow, sensual kiss on the lips. “That’s all the sugar you’re getting, old man.”
“You’re on my hair,” Aluna, the oldest, said, squirming to escape from between her mom and father.
“Sorry, pumpkin,” Maya said.
“I’m having cake,” Emerick told Keaton. “Sneak me some later?”
Keaton winked.
“That better be a yes,” Emerick said, turning his chair and rolling himself into the den. “A damn piece of cake is the least you can do.”
Keaton laughed, took Rosetta’s hand, and followed Emerick into the den.
End
About the Author:
Malcolm W. Keyes is the pseudonym of a published author who wishes to keep his self-published works separate from his traditionally-published ones. While Malcolm is not a real person, he believes his writing is every bit as good as his creator’s. The lack of a physical body perturbs him, but he is nonetheless happy to exist. He lives at malcolmwkeyes.blogspot.com.
Lamppost
A Dream for Annie
Fox and the Rest of Us
King of Lions Page 5
