Friday, February 15, 2013

Breakfast in Bed

Hello all! My name is V.L. Locey.  I am a self-published and traditionally published author that lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with my husband of over twenty-one years, my sixteen year old daughter, a herd of dairy goats, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, three dogs, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree. For more info about me and contact links, check out the author bio tab up above.

Also, don`t forget to check out our Tantalyzing Trysts Valentine`s Contest! Someone can win some lovely prizes, but you have to comment to win! You can read all about it in the Contest tab right above us.

Today I have a short little M/M story as a Valentine`s Day treat for my readers. Enjoy!







Breakfast in Bed


*~*~*



“Kiernan, wake up. Dottie and Daisy are in the kitchen.”

I roll over to look into my partner`s worried brown eyes. The man is chewing his bottom lip, which is rather adorable even if his hair is flat on one side.

“They`re probably just making cereal for themselves,” I yawn, glancing over his shoulder to find the clock.

“No, I don`t think so. I distinctly heard pans being rattled.”

I flop back to my pillow. Dave gives me his patented “Well!?” look. I close my eyes and try to block out the image of the man I took as my husband over thirteen years ago. Granted, it wasn`t a legal wedding but hopefully soon we can exchange vows and have them carry the same legality as those spoken by hetero couples.

“Did you peek?” I ask, knowing full well that going back to sleep was not going to happen. I blow a straggle of brown hair from my face.

“Well, no, I didn`t want to ruin their surprise,” he says, throwing himself back into our bed with such force the mattress shakes. “But they`re only ten and seven. What if they decide to light the stove?”

“Then you want me to go see what they`re doing?” I ask, tossing the covers aside. Dave grabs my arm.

“No, don`t ruin the surprise!” he tugs me back down. I cover us up. Fifty-three seconds pass. “What if they light the stove?”

I throw the covers aside. He stops me yet again. “Dave,” I snap, “Either you let me sleep or you let me peek!”

His ginger eyebrows knit. “Well, someone certainly woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Go peek,” he says then waves me off. “But just peek to make sure they haven`t lit the gas range.”

I tug my robe up over my left arm. My slippers are missing. Probably the damn dog carried them off. Stupid Lab`s and their oral fetishes. My fingers just brush the knob when the sound of little girl whispers slide under the door. I run to the bed and dive into it. Dave throws the covers over us. We close our eyes and begin making ghastly snoring noises. The door opens. The slipper thief bounds onto the bed, his hot breath rather foul so early in the morning. It`s foul all the time but at five AM it`s particularly rancid.

“Arf!” he barks in my face. My eyebrows sizzle.

“Tobo, get down!” I hear our eldest girl Dottie hiss. The chocolate lab leaps from the bed, but not before he tromps on my partner`s man parts. Dave wheezes. The girls clamber into bed, all knobby knees and pointy elbows and lacy frilled nightgowns. I open my eyes to find two round little faces smiling down at me. Their black hair is knotted terribly and they`re covered with maple syrup.

“We made you a special Valentine`s breakfast!” Dottie grins and plunks the bed tray soundly across my thighs. Dave is still wheezing but Daisy, our youngest, is patting his cheeks and cooing to him gently.

“You did?” I ask in feigned surprise, sitting up very carefully. “Dave, the girls made their dads a treat!”

“Cool,” the man groans, getting a sloppy smooch on his rough cheek. The girls scramble around once more to get prime seats between us. Our lovely Korean daughters get comfy. Dave gently pulls himself into a sitting position. “Next time, we get a Shih Tzu.”

“I said a cat but no one wanted to hear that,” I mutter then pull the paper towel cover off the plate with flair. The girls clap and bounce once their pancake masterpieces are unveiled.

“We made hearts for the best dads ever!” Daisy shouts. I smile at the platter of frozen pancakes that have been haggled into what could be called hearts if one squints.

“They made us hearts,” I tell Dave then hand him a pancake with ice crystals in the center. We both begin stuffing the still frozen pancakes in, making yum-yum sounds. The girls are beaming with pride at their accomplishment.

“Yeah, and Tobo didn`t even lick all of them!”

“Arf!”



The End



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