Sure enough, Ten motioned to the side of his face while handing him a napkin.
Grabbing another cookie, Ronan fixed his husband with a serious look. “What are we going to do this afternoon?”
“You mean before or after you and Everly have your afternoon nap?” Ten snickered.
“I’m retired and the living is easy.” Ronan grinned and took a sip of his coffee. This was heaven. He’d known from the moment Everly was placed in his arms that he never wanted to go back to work as a sergeant for the Cold Case unit of the Boston Police Department. He wanted to be a full-time father, and thanks to his tireless efforts, he had enough time put in to hang up his detective shield and stay home with their daughter.
“We need a few things at the grocery store for the dinner party tonight. If you want to run out and grab those things, I’d appreciate it.” Ten batted his eyes at his husband.
Ronan had been looking forward to this party all week. Every Saturday night leading up to Christmas, a different couple hosted a dinner party. The kids munched on snacks and watched movies in the living room while the adults had time to relax together and discuss the upcoming holiday. “I can do that, after I thaw out a bit.” He leaned over to kiss his husband. “I’m warmer already.”
“You know, we still need to talk about what we’re getting each other for Christmas.”
Ronan had an idea. A big one, but he still wasn’t quite sure how to bring the idea to Ten. Maybe Jude or Fitzgibbon would be able to lead him in the right direction. “I don’t need anything, babe. I’ve got you and our Little Miss.”
“As much as I love to hear you say that, Ronan, it doesn’t help any with my shopping list.”
Ronan sighed dramatically. “If we’re going to get Everly a baby BMW, get me one too, so we can have races around the neighborhood.”
Ten burst out laughing. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“What about you? What do you want for Christmas?” He would never admit it, but he loved shopping for Tennyson. The way Ten’s eyes would get misty over his gifts meant the world to Ronan.
“You know, I have an idea, but I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet.” Ten wore a mischievous grin.
“Interesting,” Ronan had been on the verge of giving Ten shit over being so mysterious, but what if Ten wanted the gift Ronan wanted? The two of them being in perfect sync happened all the time, why not with Christmas?
“Bill ‘no-man. Bill ‘no-man,” Everly sang. She sported a hot chocolate mustache and chocolate chip freckles.
Ronan grabbed his phone and started recording Everly’s serenade. He couldn’t imagine life being any better than it was right now.
2
Tennyson
The party was in full swing. All of the kids had come dressed in festive Christmas pajamas, while their parents wore ugly Christmas sweaters. An hour in, and Tennyson still couldn’t decide which sweater was the ugliest of them all. It was a toss-up between Fitzgibbon’s, emblazoned with Santa sitting on a chimney as if it were a toilet, and Truman’s, which featured real tinsel and green Christmas balls. There would be a vote later to determine the winner.
“Oh my God, Ten!” Jude’s eyes glowed brightly. “I need the recipe for these date thing-ys.” Jude reached across his husband, Cope, to grab another one.
“They’re called Devils on Horseback,” Ten shot his mother, Kaye, the side-eye, knowing she’d have something to say about the name. Thankfully, she was talking in low tones with Greeley Fitzgibbon. “They’re so simple to make. You slit the date lengthwise, fill with blue cheese and wrap it in bacon. They go under the broiler for a bit, and, presto!”
“If you keep eating those dates, you’ll end up going presto in the bathroom all night.” Cope rolled his eyes.
“Now that we know all about Jude’s bathroom ills, there’s something I want to talk to the two of you about.” Fitzgibbon pointed back and forth between Ronan and Jude.
“I’ve already told you, Kevin, I’m not enrolling in one of those Daddy and Me classes. I think they’re a cult. You know, all those fathers wanting to share recipes and shit.”
“Uh, I just shared a recipe and I’m not in a cult.” Tennyson got up from the table to get more dates for Jude. The party food was appetizers. He and Ronan spent the afternoon making spicy meatballs, mini quiches, empanadas, and sliders.
“If it’s not Daddy and Me, what is it?” Ronan asked before snatching an empanada from the tray.
“I have a business proposition for you.” The room went silent. All eyes were on Kevin.
Jude opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to make a wisecrack, but snapped it shut with a clack of his teeth.
“Go ahead.” Ronan steepled his hands in front of him.
“I think we should start a detective agency.” Kevin’s eyes moved back and forth between Ronan and Jude. “Jude already has his Massachusetts private investigator’s license, and the two of us meet the requirement by being retired members of law enforcement in good standing.”
Tennyson knew this was coming. Not because he was psychic, but because Kevin had asked him what he thought of the idea last week when Baby Aurora and Everly were having a playdate. Ten was all for the idea, but wasn’t sure how Ronan would respond.
“What would the two of us need to do?” Ronan asked carefully, not giving a hint of how he felt about the proposition.
“File an application with the colonel of the state police, get three professional references and be of good moral character.” Fitzgibbon snorted. “They licensed Jude, so you and I would be shoo-ins.”
“Funny, dickface.” Jude shot Fitzgibbon the bird.
“Dickface!” Truman and Carson’s velociraptors chorused as they ran into the kitchen.
“Come here!” Truman said, motioning to the trio of three-year-olds.
Smiles fell from Brian, Stephanie, and Baby Bertha’s face, but they obeyed, trudging over to Truman. “That’s not a nice word.” His gaze moved back and forth between the kids. “Say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry!” Brian said before running off toward the living room.
“Sorry, too,” Stephanie looked down at her feet as she spoke.
“What about you, Bertha?” Truman bit his lower lip. His third child looked him in the eye defiantly.
Bertha mumbled something unintelligible. She smiled at Truman and moved to run off when her father grabbed her.
“Say it again. I couldn’t hear you.” Truman’s green eyes meant business.
Bertha stared back at him silently. It was as if she were waiting her father out.
“I heard her say she was sorry,” Ronan chirped on a laugh.
“Shut up, Ronan!” Truman shot back.
“Ohhh! Bad word!” Bertha pointed at her father. “Bad word, Daddy!” She clapped her hands and danced around the kitchen. “Time out! Time out!”
“She has a point, Tru.” Ronan got up from his seat and danced around the kitchen with Bertha.
“I’ll be in the living room with the civilized people.” Truman grabbed his coffee and headed away from the table.
“This isn’t an airport, husband. There’s no need to announce your departure!” Carson said before laughing at his husband.