The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,104

bounced on his chest but fortunately let go of his beard.

He also giggled.

“Merry Christmas, Brooklyn,” he said.

“Sissis!” Brooklyn repeated, looked left, reached left and shouted, “Dada!”

“C’mon, boy,” Addie called.

And with that, Dapper Dan was on the bed, excitedly snuffling and licking everything he could get to.

“Dada! Dada!” Brooks cried then started giggling and rolling all over trying to get to Dapper Dan while also trying to get away from his wet tongue.

Toby felt Addie move, so he tipped his head back to see she’d pushed up to sit in bed, her back to pillows at the headboard, a smile quirking her mouth, her eyes on the action happening mostly in her lap and around her legs.

Those eyes shifted to him.

She reached right out, and using her fingers, pulled the hair out of his eye.

“You could be as broke as me, and if you gave me a version of this every day for the rest of our lives, I’d be happy,” she said softly.

Jesus Christ.

He caught her around her thighs, yanked her to her back in the bed, dislodged their dog but not their kid, and made out with her as Brooklyn grunted and tried to force his way out from between them, chanting, “Broke, broke, broke, broke, broke.”

Toby lifted his head and they both look down at Brooklyn.

“Broke, broke, sissis! Dada!”

With Tobe going up, now free, Brooks made a lunge for the dog.

Dapper Dan scuttled away and dropped with a sigh on Addie’s and Toby’s legs.

“I think he just said his first full word,” Addie breathed. “And it was ‘broke.’”

Then she snatched her kid to her, shoved her face into his neck while he squirmed to get to his dog, and busted out laughing.

Toby had found out yesterday that it was a very real possibility that Margot would not make it to next Christmas.

And this morning was already the best Christmas he’d ever had.

Because Addie dumped her son on him to wake him up and invited her dog into the bed.

And she was Addie.

He was glad he was rich as fuck.

He still knew all he’d ever need was her.

Pain would come and go. Life would do its damnedest to fuck them up.

But she’d be Addie.

And she’d be his.

So no matter what . . .

He’d be all right.

And he needed to know that, which was precisely the reason she’d woken him up this way.

Because they both knew, Addie more than he, that the next few months were going to be a bitch.

Brooklyn screeched.

“Shh, baby,” Addie shushed him. “Hopefully Aunt Izzy is getting some so you need to quiet down so Uncle Johnny can concentrate.”

“Uncle Johnny concentrated just fine,” Johnny announced as he strolled in wearing pajama bottoms, a Henley and socks, which was a lot like what Toby was wearing (but with a thermal).

Toby was also leaning against the sink with his coffee while Addie was feeding Brooks.

“You shouldn’t say those things, Addie,” Izzy, hair a bedhead, sexhead mess, expression dreamy (which meant Johnny really did have no trouble concentrating), wandered in behind Johnny, as well as attached to him by their hands. “He’s picking things up a lot now.”

“I know. He said his first full word this morning,” Addie told her. “It was broke.”

“Broke?” Izzy asked, standing behind Brooks’s high chair.

“Zee! Zee! Zee!” Brooks yelled and twisted, calling up to his aunt.

Iz bent to her nephew and kissed his head.

He patted her face.

She straightened, and Addie tried to force some cereal in his mouth.

He tore the spoon from her hand and instantly got a determined expression on his face as he attempted to shove it into the cereal bowl on his tray.

“Told Tobe he could be broke, and all I needed was this little guy, our dog, and him and I’m cool,” Addie said distractedly, watching her son with fascination.

Toby felt his brother’s attention and looked that way.

“He picked up on broke,” Addie finished.

Toby and Johnny stared at each other.

Toby now knew the pictures were true.

Their mother was beautiful.

Addie could get a face full of acid, and after she recovered this would be their morning.

He knew what beauty was.

And you couldn’t see it.

He knew Johnny knew the same thing.

But Margot knew it before both of them.

And that was why she hated Sierra.

But she loved the Forrester Girls.

“Want coffee?” Toby asked.

“Yeah,” Johnny replied.

“Iz?” Toby called.

“I can get it,” she said.

“Grab a stool,” he ordered.

“Okay, Toby,” she murmured, then slid on a stool by her sister.

He got them coffee.

“I should start on the cinnamon rolls. You got the stuff for the cinnamon