The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,103

blanket over his arm, scrubbing his hand over the top of his head.

“We did this,” Izzy whispered. “With Mom. Before it got too bad. We did this all the time.”

He knew what they did.

They stared at the stars.

And tried to find peace.

He guided his woman toward the blankets.

Halfway there, the porch door banged behind them.

Johnny turned and saw Addie coming toward them wearing one of Toby’s hoodies over a nightgown, green Wellingtons on her feet.

Like what Izzy was wearing, except Johnny’s contribution was a sweatshirt and she didn’t have wellies.

Addie was carrying two bottles in her hand.

One was bourbon.

One was tequila.

“We bought into shit like this, we lassoed two Forrester Girls,” Tobe muttered when Johnny and Izzy made the blankets.

There were worse things.

Like one mother showing out of the blue to fuck with them for her own selfish reasons.

And their real mother dying of cancer.

Johnny shot his brother a grin.

It was fake.

Toby grinned back.

It was fake too.

After he got that, Johnny didn’t hesitate.

When he claimed the blanket Toby wasn’t on, he pulled Iz down, arranged her at his side, then threw the blanket over them, tucked it around as best he could, and fell to his back.

Iz snuggled into his body, her head on his chest, neck twisted so she could look at the sky.

Johnny turned his head and saw Toby not far away, Addie on his other side, arranged the same way.

Tobe felt his gaze and returned it.

His smile was slight.

But this one was real.

“Who wants booze?” Addie called.

“Me,” Izzy said.

Tobe handed the tequila to Johnny who gave it to Iz, who lifted up long enough to take a swig.

Then they handed it back for Addie to do the same thing.

The men sucked back some bourbon then set the bottles in the cold snow.

Holding his Iz close, Johnny looked up into the stars.

And he got it.

It wasn’t about being reminded what a small part of the universe you were, a speck, not even dust, a cell of nothing that exists and then fades away.

It was about being reminded about the magnificence of the universe, and how you were an integral part of it, and you should not waste a moment, you should find time to savor its beauty while you had your time amongst its majesty.

“Merry Christmas, everybody,” Eliza called.

“Merry, Christmas, Iz, Johnny,” Adeline called back.

Johnny didn’t say it to everybody.

He pulled his girl close and murmured, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He heard his brother say quietly, “Merry Christmas, honey.”

Johnny took in a big breath, feeling Iz go up with it, then come down when he let it out.

From what Dave said, the prognosis was far from good.

Johnny had lost his grandparents, his father, and learned that day that this shit did not get easier.

He felt cut up inside.

Raw.

And he knew for Toby, who was Margot’s favorite, maybe even of her own boys, it was worse.

But they’d be okay.

Because right then, the message was clear.

The Forrester Girls had this.

Moonlight and motor oil, they could get through anything.

So he laid beneath the stars under a blanket in the warmth made of him and his future wife and thought, at least right then, it was a Merry Christmas.

The Initiation Was Complete

Toby

“OOF! WHAT THE . . . ?”

Toby woke, groggy, and saw nothing but Brooklyn’s face.

“Dodo!” he shouted, then bonked Toby with his head either trying to give him a hug, a kiss, or chew on his beard.

When he did, beyond her boy, he saw Addie and all her hair.

“Up and at ’em, Talon,” she ordered. “It’s Christmas!”

Her face disappeared but he did an ab curl, located her, kept hold of her son in one arm, body slammed her to her back on the mattress using his other one and rolled on top of her.

He then kissed her.

Wet and hard.

“Dodo. Mama. Booboo. Dada. Bray. Jaja,” Brooklyn babbled as he escaped Toby’s hold and crawled up on Toby’s back.

He collapsed and slammed his chin into the back of Toby’s head.

“Glah!” he shouted, then started laughing.

Tobe broke the kiss reaching behind him to drag Brooks around.

He set him on Addie’s chest and her arm went from around Toby to put a hand to Brooks’s diapered ass.

Brooks pushed up with a hand in Addie’s throat, reached to Toby and yanked hard on his beard.

Toby ignored it and looked into Addie’s eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Lollipop.”

Her eyes warmed.

“Sissis!” Brooks yelled then pushed up and tried to rearrange Toby’s facial hair, planting it in the back of his head.

He wrapped both arms around his kid, fell to his back, and Brooklyn