Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,190

a little here?”

I try to keep the pleading and annoyance out of my tone, but I’m so at the end of my rope, it’s about to snap. Ames won’t detach himself from me, Matthew keeps whining about being scared to pull out a tooth that’s hanging by a thread, and Travis’ soccer practice ran late. We’re all hungry, tired, and just want to be home.

“Let me help you with that.”

I turn when the masculine voice hits my ears because surely that wasn’t my nine-year-old. Corey grabs the gym bag off the ground and hoists it onto his shoulder, then proceeds to give all the boys high-fives.

“Hey, thanks for that.” I nod in his direction as I heft Ames up on my hip.

“Anytime. I was over there watching some of my JV guys practice and saw you struggling. Can I help with something?”

Corey is nice, and while I appreciate the gesture, all I want to do is get these kids home and down to bed so I can pass out, too.

“No, really, we’re okay. If you can just pop that in my trunk—” I tell him, popping the back of my SUV open from the button on my key fob.

“Hey, how about if I pick up pizza for all of us and bring it over?” Corey says to the kids rather than me, knowing he’ll get a jovial response anytime he mentions pizza to children.

“That’s really not necessary—” I start before Matthew cuts me off.

“Come on, Mom! You were just saying you’re too tired to cook. We could get pepperoni, your favorite!”

The little traitor, revealing my last words to Corey. But I am exhausted, and the thought of cheesy, gooey pizza right now is almost close to having a taste bud hard-on …

Those little faces look up at me with such innocent expressions. “Okay, fine. Corey can bring pizza over. But you better get washed up quickly when we get home, and no arguing at bedtime.”

“Yes! Thanks, Mom!” they all cry in unison.

Which makes me feel a tad better about serving them a crappy dinner.

Forty minutes later, we’re all well into our second slice, aside from Ames, and my hangry attitude has somewhat subsided.

“So then, since Johnny dared me, I ate my waffle off the floor,” Travis tells Corey, giggling at his own grossness.

Corey fist bumps him. “My man! Never waste food or the money you paid for it. I’m sure it tasted just as good as it had before it had fallen on the lunchroom floor.”

“It was so good. And I even got a second one! Sarah Beth told on me, said I ate food off the floor. But instead of being angry, Miss Liz, our lunch lady, just gave me a new one!”

My oldest son says this as if he’s amazed that his disgusting eating habits were rewarded with a second helping of the “breakfast-for-lunch” entree of the day.

“Two waffles for lunch and pizza for dinner? You’re going to have one heck of a stomach ache tonight.” I shoot him a disapproving glare.

“And ice cweem for dessert?” Ames flashes a toothy grin at me from his booster seat, already looking for the good stuff.

I tap a finger to my chin. “Hmm, I don’t know. Little boys who don’t finish even half their slice of pizza don’t get rewarded with dessert.”

All of a sudden, my baby boy starts shoveling it into his mouth, so fast he might choke.

“Slow down there, champ.” Corey laughs, reaching over to pull the slice from Ames’ grasp and cut it up for him.

I can’t help but look on in disbelief. That someone is taking the job of serving my children off my hands. That another person is willing to sit at a table with my rowdy crew and cut up food into bite-size pieces. Not to mention that person is a man, one who has no obligation to be here.

My heart warms a little at the sight of Corey with my boys. He was a good friend to Travis, and he’s tried to step in with the kid since my husband’s death. I should let him more.

“Okay, now Matthew, tell us about your spelling bee.” I lean in to listen to him.

After dinner, each boy gets a scoop of vanilla, which they devour, and then it’s off to the races. Brushing teeth, combing hair, bedtime stories, drinks of water … each one is different in the specific way he likes to wind down.

But with Corey here, it’s done in half the time, and I find