Page 25 of Twister

A clatter of dishes interrupted us before I heard Rose call out, “It’s okay! Nothing broke! Everything’s under control! It’s just a little fire!”

Both of our eyes widened, and we cursed loudly and immediately jumped out of bed to scramble for our boxers and then the door.

On the other side, Rose was standing in front of the sink, busy examining the pan that she’d been using, which was now covered with the fire blanket we’d bought for these types of emergencies.

She eyed us both for half a second before she returned her focus to what was in front of her.

“Told you I had it.” She bobbed her head toward the stovetop proudly. “And look, no smoke damage this time!”

“This time?” Marshall muttered from behind me, sounding morbidly curious.

“It’s why there’s a fire blanket,” I replied quietly before looking Rose up and down to make sure she wasn’t hiding any injury. “There’s an extinguisher in the corner.”

“Huh.”

“Safety first.”

“Clearly, yet you still let her cook unsupervised.”

“Hey,” I replied, smirking at him over my shoulder. “No back seat parenting.”

“I’m just sayin’….”

“Eh, she’s got to learn some time.”

“By burning the house down?”

“I obviously have more faith in her than you.”

“Well, I would like to survive until tomorrow.”

I chuckled and went to step forward until Rose wagged her finger at us.

“Nuh-uh. Pancakes are not clothing optional.” She raised an eyebrow and stared at me pointedly.

Grimacing, I looked down at myself, then Marshall. Yeah, okay, she had a point. We both shrugged, then turned around and rummaged for the rest of the clothes we’d thrown on the bedroom floor last night.

Moments later, we were back, clothed, and seated at the other end of the dining room table to the unfinished jigsaw.

A heaped plate of messy, lopsided pancakes was in front of each of us.

A large bottle of maple syrup was in the middle of us, alongside the sugar bowl and several quartered lemons.

The pancakes themselves were overcooked but not burnt in their thinner spots, whereas the thicker spots looked like they hadn’t been cooked quite long enough.

With no visible evidence of the pancakes having been on fire, I wondered whether I should ask about it or just let it go.

Considering we had a guest whose tummy was grumbling loudly from the sweet smell of pancakes lingering in the house, I figured an explanation could probably wait.

No harm, no foul, right?

I was acing this parenting thing!

About half an hour later, Marshall was the first of us to finish, mopping up the last of his syrup with his final piece of pancake before he leaned back in his seat, patted his stomach, and declared himself “fit to burst.” “Those were some of the tastiest pancakes I’ve had in a very long time. Thank you, Rose.”

With her cheeks bulging from the mouthful that she’d just stuffed in, she nodded. A light blush appeared on her face from the compliment.

“That has left me in a bit of a sticky mess, though,” he continued innocently, making me choke. As I reached for my glass of water to clear my throat, he smirked at me, knowing full well where my mind had gone. “I’m going to grab a shower.”

Still coughing, I waved him off, then wondered if there was any way I could join him as I watched him saunter toward his room with a gentle sway of his hips. I chanced a glance at Rose, only to discover she was watching us both with avid curiosity.

No communal showers this morning, then. I swallowed my disappointment along with the remnants of the pancake I’d been choking on and focused on the rest of the food still sitting on my plate.

After we heard the click of Marshall’s door shutting, Rose put down her fork. When she didn’t say anything, I put mine down as well, then swiveled in my seat to face her.

She had her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms and was staring at me with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Fucking hell. I sighed in resignation. Best to get the third degree over with now. She’d be unbearable if I let her stew. “What?”

“So.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So.”

“I like him for you.”

I raised the other eyebrow. “You do, huh?”

She nodded. “You’re happier with him here.”

Pressing my lips together, I felt my eyes drawn in the direction of his bedroom, regardless of my brain telling me not to be so damn obvious. She was right, of course.

A light pressure landed on my shoulder, and I turned to find her hand resting there.

“You deserve this, Dad,” she said quietly but ever so seriously. “Let yourself have this for however long he’s here for.”

With a tiny smile playing on my lips, I reached up and squeezed her hand with mine.

“Even if he’s only here for another few days?

” I knew Marshall had said he wanted to stay for a few months last night, and I very much hoped that would eventuate, but anything could happen between now and the time he got his Jeep back from Kajir.

She nodded, then nibbled her bottom lip. “I asked him if he could stay longer yesterday.”

The tiny smile grew into a smirk. “I know. I heard.”

“He said he’d think about it.”

“He did.”

“I hope he stays. Not just for you, but for him as well.”

“You do?”

“Mm.” With her focus on what was left on her plate, she slipped her hand from mine, then pushed her plate away from her. “I get the feeling that he needs to be here.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged and went back to nibbling her bottom lip again. “It’s just this gut feeling I get, you know?” She patted her stomach and frowned. “You always say to trust your gut.”

“I do,” I murmured, wondering yet again what sort of intuition was driving her thoughts. “You’d be okay with that? Him staying?”

Her face lit up as she nodded.

“Even if it means the occasional sleepover like we had last night?”

Her grin got impossibly wider even as her nodding got a little out of hand, and I started to worry about the likelihood of her giving herself whiplash. “I like him and so does Puppy Bucky.” She leaned forward to cup her hand around my ear. “I like him more than Brett.”

I smirked as I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her to me. “Yeah, Rosey. I know.”

She leaned back a little but not enough to get out of my hold. Her hands rested on my shoulder again as she looked at me with wide, concerned eyes. “I’m worried about Pappy Jacky.”

My brows furrowed as I hugged her to me. “I know, sweetheart. I am too.”

The way I felt about Jackson was complicated.

True, he’d left both Rose and me, but I’d spent too many years with him to not care when it was obvious something really nasty was going on between him and Brett.

I still resented him for leaving, and I probably always would, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him physically or emotionally hurt.

Rose pulled away from me and turned around to pick up her plate. “I’m not worried about you, though.” She wandered over to the sink and rinsed her plate. “Not while Patriarchal Marshall is around, anyway.”

There she went again. “Rose—”

“Oh, look at the time. I should get ready for the shelter. You’re still okay to drop me off, right?”

I felt my lips thin as I pressed them together at her obvious change of subject, but then looked at the time on the microwave and realized that she had a point.

How the hell had the time gotten away from us so quickly?

I hummed my agreement as I started gathering the rest of the plates on the table to take to the island to rinse and pop in the dishwasher for later. “If Marshall is still in the shower, you can use mine, okay?”

“Okay!” She waved her hand over her shoulder as she disappeared around the corner and down the corridor toward her room.

Smiling, I shook my head at her exuberance and started the washing up, wondering if I’d ever been that energetic in my youth.

Maybe? My twin brother, Henry, had always been the quieter one of us, constantly reading or tinkering with something he’d pulled apart to see if he could put it back together again, while I’d been the active one.

It had come in handy when the bullies began targeting him, but I didn’t think that translated to being as energetic as Rose was at times.

That reminded me… I needed to call him. We hadn’t had our weekly catch-up yet.

Lost in my thoughts with my sudsy hands on autopilot in the kitchen sink, I startled when I felt arms wrap around my waist. I let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise that only resulted in Marshall laughing behind me, his arms tightening around me as his body shook against mine.

“Weren’t expecting that, I’m guessing?” he murmured in a low enough register that my dick responded, plumping more than it should at this time of the morning.

“God no. I thought you were still in the shower.” But now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen Rose come back through to head to my bathroom. I should have known he’d be out by now.

He hummed and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. “I missed you in there.”

I groaned as my cock hardened a little more at the thought. “Another time. Maybe tonight?”

“Mm. I might just hold you to that.” His fingers crept up my torso and found my stiffened nipples before giving them a quick tweak. I shivered at the expert way he already knew how to play me.

Just when I was about to dry my hands to turn around and kiss him silly, my phone rang.

It vibrated noisily on the dining table, disrupting the cozy little bubble we’d been in, demanding someone answer it.

I glanced at the clock again and frowned when I realized how early it still was.

No one should be calling at this hour unless it was urgent.

Although… the shelter knew to expect Rose this morning.

Maybe they needed me to hold off on bringing her in?

Better to answer it now rather than let the call go through to voicemail. “Could you get that for me, gorgeous?”

Marshall was already unwinding his arms from my waist before I’d finished asking the question. He rounded the island and picked up my phone with a frown on his face. “It’s Jackson.”

My eyebrows rose until I was sure they met my hairline. What was he calling for? He knew he wasn’t due to see Rose this week. And he never called this early. Worry filled me automatically, and I grabbed the dishcloth to dry my hands. “Answer it, please.”

He nodded and pressed the Answer button. “Daniel’s phone. You’re on speaker.”

There was a pause before Jackson’s voice quietly stammered, “Uh, is… is Daniel available?”

“I’m here, Jackson,” I called loudly enough that he should be able to hear me from where I was in the kitchen. As Marshall walked toward me, I walked around the counter closer to him, drying my hands as I went. “What’s up?”

When we met in the middle of the room, Marshall held the phone up between us, and I threw the cloth over my shoulder so I could plant my hands on my hips and concentrate. Something about Jackson’s voice sounded off, and it unnerved me.

“Um, I’m sorry for c-calling so early…,” Jackson said slowly, stumbling over his words. “Is what you said the other night still… uh… still an option? About calling if I n-needed to?”

Marshall and I looked at each other, and concern was clear on his face.

I felt myself grimace as I took the phone from him, but I didn’t move away.

Instead, I wrapped my free hand around his waist and held him closer.

He nodded at the questioning look I aimed his way, and I clenched my teeth before I said, “Of course. What’s up, Jackson? What do you need?”

There was a long pause before we heard a halting sigh. “Um… I’m in the hospital? And… um… Brett’s been arrested….” A choked sob echoed through the line. “I didn’t know who else to call….”

Both Marshall’s and my eyes widened, and with a firm, determined nod, Marshall sprang into action, striding down the hall toward Rose’s room and calling for her as he went.

I let him go, confident that I could trust him to corral her quickly. My fingers gripped the phone hard as I lifted it closer so I could growl, “We’re on our way.”