“Seriously. You and Travis can handle the kids. He’s practically a professional. And as a bonus, it’ll give you two some male bonding time.”
Two of them with five kids wasn’t too bad. And Travis understood how the little monsters ticked, so he could definitely provide the backup Jack would most likely need.
“Does April know about this?” he asked. Because this seemed like an ask that should come from her.
“Not yet. But she will.” Rachel said with a gigantic smile in her voice. He knew that smile. His little sister’s smile made him feel lighter.
“Do you want me to talk to April about it?” he asked.
“Nope.” Rachel popped thepat the end of the word. “I will handle April. You just handle feeding the children dinner, keeping them alive, and if you want bonus points, you’ll fold all of April’s laundry and vacuum the house.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being used?” he asked. Also, where was the vacuum and how did it operate? It couldn’t be that hard. Most of those things were push a button and go. That’s what the commercials said anyway.
He was pretty sure.
“Because you’ve known me long enough to know that’s precisely what’s going on.”
“Have you talked to Kitty?” he asked, because he had a hunch she had.
“Yes.” She didn’t even try to deny it. “And I concur with her plan.”
He chuckled. Dang, he missed his sister. “Tell Travis I’m looking forward to some male bonding.”
“He’ll love that.”
“And you’ll help April relax?” he asked.
“Uh…yeah.” Rachel said something to someone in the background. It sounded like Travis because she mentioned Jack and helping and then something about flight time. Travis was a pilot who loved the skies.
“April isn’t coming back from girls’ night stressed, I guarantee,” she said when she returned. “And Travis said he’s good to come help.”
They said their goodbyes, and he closed the washing machine, turned it on, and headed toward the kitchen. If he were in charge of dinner, then he’d have to figure out how to make the brown stuff she’d dumped in the slow cooker palatable for everyone.
He lifted the lid and gave a sniff. Chili. It actually smelled pretty good—cumin and tomato and warm spice. Though it still looked like goop and had the consistency of slush.
He enjoyed chili, so this was a good turn of events, since he’d get to eat that chili. And, though he liked it, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually eaten it. Usually, he either made a protein shake or ordered in, unless Sarah took pity on him and brought him dinner—which she did often enough for his meals to be decently well-rounded.
Sarah had never brought him chili, though. And he hadn’t thought to order it in. So, yeah, this was excellent.
He grabbed a wooden spoon out of the carousel in the middle of the counter and nudged at the mass. There was still a decent chunk of coagulated frozen tomato and kidney beans floating in the middle. He turned the knob from low to high and gave himself an internal high five.
Laundry. Check.
Load started. Load folded…sort of. It didn’t look much like the neat piles he got back from the laundry company. Actually, it didn’t look at all like that. His piles were pretty lopsided. He gave himself a pass, since he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
Good enough was good enough. On to fixing dinner so he could spend a night in with the kids.
Look at him being Mr. Domesticated. If only Sarah and Ben could see him now.
Mayonnaise ambled through the kitchen, plopping down on her bed by the window.
He smiled, did an impromptu turn and Risky Business spin—his socks making the move extra smooth on the glossy tile floor.
She stared at him with an extremely unimpressed look.
“Tough audience, huh?” He did another socked slide for her benefit.
Still nothing, so he ignored her, too. If there was one thing he knew about females—and he was pretty sure this went for the canine variety, too—it was to leave them alone if they weren’t into him.
