By the time we got to “Let it Go,” Cody was rubbing his eyes but stubbornly refusing to admit he was tired. Miguel caught my eye and asked, “Do you remember the mama elephant song fromDumbo?”
I frowned, trying to remember anything about the movie. I pulled out one of my older Disney songbooks and flipped through it. “Oh yeah, I remember this one.” I nodded to Miguel, who gathered up Cody in his arms while I started playing “Baby Mine” fromDumbo.In less than two minutes, Cody was asleep in Miguel’s arms. As I wound down the song, he sank down on my sofa, being careful not to jostle my nephew too much. “I wish I had half his energy,” Miguel whispered.
I chuckled softly as I turned off my keyboard. “Truth.” I went over to the pair and was struck by how right it looked for Miguel to be cradling Cody in his arms. “I’ll put him on my bed to sleep.”
Miguel frowned. “Will he be safe? Your bed is awfully high off the ground.”
I smiled as I lifted my nephew from his arms. “I’ll put him in the middle with all the pillows around him. He’ll be fine.” Miguel followed me to my bedroom, which sent a tingle of awareness up my spine for some reason.
I settled Cody on the bed and set all four of my pillows around him. I pointed toward my closet and asked, “Would you please get the blanket on the shelf?”
I stifled a chuckle when Miguel had to go up on tiptoes to reach the blanket. He must have heard it anyway because he glared at me when he turned around with the blanket in his hands. “Laugh it up, tree man.”
“Sorry,” I said, trying to look sorry.
He smiled and shook his head. “No, you’re not. Just remember, small but mighty.”
“Very true,” I replied.
Miguel rubbed his face against the gray blanket. “So soft.”
To my complete shock, I felt my cock stir. What. The. Fuck? I shifted and cleared my throat. “Yeah, Cody really likes it.” He handed me the blanket, carefully put it over Cody, and we quietly left the room. I left the door halfway open so I could hear Cody if he called me.
I went to the refrigerator and took out a beer. I held it up to show Miguel. “You want one?”
“Sure,” he replied.
I grabbed one for him and joined him on the couch. “Thanks for coming over,” I said. “It was a lot more fun with you here.”
Miguel clinked his bottle to mine. “You’re welcome. It was no hardship at all. Cody’s a sweet kid.”
“He’s a handful,” I retorted.
“Most three-year-olds are,” he said. “Or is he four now?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. His birthday is May fourth.”
Miguel’s brows rose and his eyes widened. “No way. Has he seenStar Warsyet?” Then he shook his head. “Never mind. He’s too young to argue about who shot first in Mos Eisley.”
We looked at each other and said at the same time, “Han shot first.”
We laughed and clinked our bottles again. After I took another drink, I asked, “Has there been any more fallout from your conversation with your mom?”
Miguel sighed. “My sister called me this morning to try to guilt me into coming to Easter dinner by telling me how sad my mother was.”
I dropped my head back. “Ugh, that sucks. Why does everyone think your mom being sad is more important than you being true to yourself?”
“Spanish culture is all about family first,” Miguel replied. “There’s a whole epic love story with Raphael’s parents that caused a big scandal in the family.”
“He’s your cousin, right?” I asked. “That was his wedding where we first started working together.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Raphael’s father is my mother’s brother.”
“What was the scandal about?”
“Raphael’s grandparents wanted his mother to marry some wealthy mogul back in Spain. She fell in love with my uncle instead. They ran away together and got married. They didn’t return to see their parents until after Luis, Raphael’s older brother, was born.”
“Wow,” I said. “I’ll bet they did that so the parents couldn’t try to separate them.”
