Keeping Kellan by Amy Aislin

Author:Amy Aislin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amy Aislin

Chapter Thirteen

Wendy’s front door was unlocked when Brant arrived with Kell for Sunday dinner—a Sunday dinner sans Jerome, thank God for small miracles. Jerome was currently flying back from Alaska while Mom stayed behind to paint her murals.

Plastic container with his two scones for Wendy in hand, Brant stepped into the house, Kell and Ollie behind him. We’re out back Wendy’s text had said, so they went through the house to the kitchen.

Kell veered off, pawing through drawers for something to serve their potato salad with. Brant left Wendy’s scones on the counter and opened the back door for Ollie, who shot onto the deck, down the steps, and into the yard with a short bark and—

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Kell said, distracted.

Brant stuck his head out the door, and sure enough . . . “Nick’s at the grill.”

“Shit.” Horror crossed Kell’s face. “Don’t let him char them like last time.”

“I’m on it.”

Outside, the twins were playing on the wooden swing set with its double slides, monkey bars, and three feet-high mock rock-climbing wall set at an angle. Any minute now, Ollie would climb up that wall and come down the slide as though he, too, were a human child and not a doggie one. Maggie wasn’t even trying to keep up with her older brothers, instead ensconced in the little playhouse in the middle of the structure with a couple of dolls. Wendy was setting the table on the deck. Brant tossed her a brief hello over his shoulder as he made for Nick and stole the spatula out of his hand. “I’m taking over.”

Wendy cackled and pointed at her husband. “Told you.”

“He burnt them last time,” Brant defended himself.

“And the inside was raw, I remember.”

Nick wilted. “You’re not even going to let me redeem myself?”

“Nope.” Brant waved the spatula at him. “Off you go.”

“Fine, you controlling bastard.”

He chuckled. If having edible food made him a controlling bastard, so be it. “You’ll thank me when your burger is perfectly cooked.”

The sounds of Joey and Johnny laughing and screeching kept him company while he grilled. Nick took over setting the table and told Wendy to get off her feet for a bit, and when Kell came out, he sent a wink Brant’s way before heading toward the twins.

He looked fucking edible in navy shorts and a white polo shirt, brown hair slicked into his usual pompadour. They’d spent most of the weekend naked, scruffy, and uncombed, donning clothes only to cook or take Ollie for a walk.

Honestly, Brant couldn’t say which of Kell’s looks he preferred. The corporate businessman in slacks, pressed shirt, and tie that made Brant want to muck him up, just because. Lounging in bed without a stitch of clothing except his glasses, self-satisfied smirk on his face. Clad in tight boxer briefs that moulded to his ass and showed off his strong thighs while he poured himself a cup of coffee. The loose T-shirt and looser shorts he put on to walk Ollie that spoke of comfort and domesticity.

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