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Was asking that rude?
I was still mentally debating my questions as the coloring came to an abrupt end. There seemed to have been some kind of mass signal I hadn’t heard because one minute they were quiet and focused with the only sounds being binkies and the slightly muffled voices from downstairs, and the next, two were wandering off to sneak into what seemed to be the snack closet, one started to cry, and Charlie was slightly slow to duck and was hit by a flying crayon.
There was some fascinating magic involved with how quickly chaos descended but I focused on what I could control.
The crayons.
Dessie froze with one stern glare from me and pouted dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d gone from polite to pissed entirely too quickly for it to just be general theatrics or exhaustion. He’d deliberately picked a fight…but why?
Jarrett frowned at Dessie as he walked over to save the cookies from the fast mischief-makers. “Do we throw crayons?”
The frustrated little pouted. “Corner?”
Jarrett nodded. “I think that’s a good idea until you remember to be nice.”
This seemed to be a routine they’d acted out before because Dessie got up and did the slowest shuffle in history over to what was apparently the naughty corner. He was definitely aiming for theatrical, but there was something about the way he was looking at the door that made me think we’d missed something.
I looked over at Jarrett, who shrugged before he frowned at the hungry troublemakers. “Pick up the crayons first. You know the rules.”
That had even more chaos whirling around the room and as I took everything in, trying to decide what to do, Charlie inched closer and held out his arm. The pout and wide eyes clued me in and I looked down at the appropriate spot and frowned. “Did you get a boo-boo?”
My only frame of reference for what to do came from TV shows and old movies, but it seemed to be right based on how he nodded and pouted around the binkie. He was waiting, either for more sympathy or something else, but I didn’t know what he wanted.
Jarrett was no help because he was now cuddling Gideon as well as the crying little, who magically stopped his tears as soon as he got the attention he wanted.
So I did the only thing I could remember seeing.
“Does it need a kiss better?” I wasn’t sure why that spot needed attention when the crayon hit his shoulder, but when the shy little nodded, I leaned over and gave his forearm a tiny peck. I must’ve been sitting on the carpet too long because we both got a jolt of static electricity, but it made him laugh around his binkie. “All better?”
I got another nod from my new friend, but he seemed like he needed more of a distraction, so I leaned closer again and whispered. “Does Uncle Jarrett know that the boy who was crying is stealing crayons?”
I wasn’t sure if it was attention-seeking behavior or just designed to cover up his thievery but the playroom definitely had more drama than I’d expected…it really was too bad I was a contract lawyer and not a criminal one.
Charlie’s giggle said everything and nothing, but my teasing question earned me something even better…words. He slipped the binkie out and giggled again, looking at Gideon. “Policeman.”
Good point.
Shrugging, I sighed and got another giggle from Charlie as well as a curious look from Jarrett. “I guess that means it’s not my problem then.”
Not my playroom, not my problem?
Sounded good to me.
I was going to focus on my new friends and getting to know the dramatic boy who liked his boo-boos being kissed.
“Hmm, should we go see if we can rescue Dessie and read a book?” The simple idea had Charlie beaming at me and made me feel like the best Dom in the world.
Well…Daddy?
It wasn’t the evening I’d planned and I still had more questions than answers, but I was starting to think my life had taken a turn for the better.
I just hoped I’d be able to figure out what to do next.
Chapter 2
Charlie
Boo-boo kisses and books and cookies and cuddles…but what did it mean?
