Brothers in Blue A Bryson Family Christmas - Jeanne St. James Page 0,1
you pay attention to any of our conversations at dinner?”
“Yessss.”
Amanda sighed. “Now you’re fibbing.”
“No worse than you,” Hannah blurted out as she surged forward, gave Amanda a quick kiss on the cheek and bolted from the room.
Amanda stared at the empty doorway and smiled.
God, she loved that kid. She might have been worth all those hours of pain and torture—and the verbal abuse she gave Max—during her labor.
She should get up, take a shower and get ready for the day, but it was rare that the house was empty of not only the spawn from her loins, but her brother, Greg, too. She glanced at the clock. Another hour of uninterrupted sleep would be heaven.
She shimmied her way back under the covers and sighed as she stretched out, having the whole king-sized bed to herself. Then closed her eyes and went searching for that dream…
“You know what happens to bad girls who don’t stay out of trouble?”
Max’s wife stirred and a naughty smile crept over her face. “Mmm. Her husband— Wait, I’m not falling for that again.” Her eyes popped open and she shot up in bed, smacking her head against his chin.
“Fuck!” they both shouted at the same time.
“Ow,” Amanda moaned, rubbing the top of her head.
“Hey, your head is harder than my chin,” he complained, rubbing his throbbing chin.
His wife not only had a hard head, she was a hardhead.
Her eyes raked down his naked body as he kneeled on the mattress next to her. The surprise in them quickly turned to heat.
That was more like it.
“Well, hello, Chief Bryson, I think you forgot your uniform. Do you at least have your cuffs since I’m a bad girl?”
Max raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I can find a set somewhere in our bedroom. Is the cuff key still taped to the back of the headboard?”
“Why? Do you plan on wearing them?”
“Do you?”
“Ooo. That was an actual purr.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “You like that?”
She lifted a finger and tilted her head for a long moment. “You know what I like? Silence. No screaming. No fighting. No pounding feet up and down the stairs. No barking dog as Chaos tries to herd them. Greg not yelling out random fucks and shits. No glass breaking. No slamming of doors.” She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, her eyelids fluttered shut and she exhaled a long, “Aaaaaaah.”
“Your extremely handsome husband’s a genius to make it happen. Just admit it.” He had suggested it to his parents, who jumped on the idea and decided to take all the grandkids—except for baby Levi—this morning and keep them overnight.
“An empty house might be the… Best. Christmas. Present. Ever!” She closed her eyes and flopped back onto the bed, her head bouncing off the pillows. “So freaking awesome.”
“I know. Now you owe me.”
“Mmm.” She opened one eye. “But empty house or not, I’m not giving you another baby.”
“It’s been five years.”
The other eye opened and she glared at him. “My dear, currently breathing husband who’s at risk right now to be smothered to death, we are not having a baby every five years. After last time, I realized five years isn’t long enough for me to forget. Everyone lied about that.” She lifted a hand. “And, you forget how old I am now. Way too old.”
“That’s true.”
Amanda jerked the pillow from under her head and whacked him with it. “You’re not supposed to agree. And, anyway, you got snipped.”
“If you remember, the doctor said it can be reversed. You know, in case I traded you in for a younger model.” Max grinned and shrugged.
“I guess I’m putting an ad for both you and Hannah in the penny shopper.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she muttered.
He sighed and reclined onto his side, facing Amanda and propping his head in his hand. “Listen, Levi coming into the family has made my paternal instincts kick in again.”
“Paternal instincts to do what? Change shitty diapers? Clean up projectile vomiting? What? What part do you miss?”
“Well, the puking part we still deal with.” Max swallowed down the saliva forming in his mouth. Sometimes he gagged just remembering about the god-awful messes their kids had made.
Amanda was also turning slightly green. “Okay, we need to stop talking about puke.”
“Agreed. That’s not what this was supposed to be about.”
“What was?”
“Shipping them all off and getting some alone time with my wife.”
“Mmm. That sounds better than babies. How long are they gone, again?”
“We won’t see them again until they’re opening presents under the tree at my parents’.”