“So weady!” the girls cheer.
“All right then, lead the way to the kitchen.”
Jumping into action, I reach out and take the bag from her hands. “Thanks, Grayson,” she says softly before taking a hand of each of my daughters and letting them drag her to the kitchen.
I follow along behind them with the bag of supplies, doing my best not to watch her ass sway in those leggings she has on. I’m not sure who invented the first pair of leggings, but I can almost guarantee it was a man.
In the kitchen, I place the bag on the island as the girls climb up onto the stools. I keep them steady to make sure they don’t tip over.
“Okay, first things first. You can call me Laken. Miss Laken is very formal, and all of my closest friends call me Laken.” She smiles at my daughters.
“Waken,” they repeat.
“Perfect. Now. I’m going to need your daddy to help me out with the bowls and spoons and a measuring cup?” she asks, glancing up at me.
With that one look, something happens to me. There’s a flutter in my chest, and my cock twitches. It’s been over three years since I’ve felt attraction, and my cock decides that now, standing in my kitchen with my four-year-old twin daughters, is the best time to get back in the game.
“Grayson?” Laken asks.
I realize I’ve just been standing here staring at her. “Right.” I jump into action, showing her where everything is. “Just let me know if there is something else you might need.”
“I think we’re good. If you have something to do, yard work or laundry or whatever, we’ll be fine,” she assures me.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” There’s always something that needs to be done.
“No! Daddy, you hafta make dem wif us,” Hayden tells me.
“Yeah. You hafta help. What if we can’t weach?” Harlow asks.
Laken and I both smile at that one. “My mom always has me reach into the taller cabinets when I’m at my parents’ place. It never fails,” I explain to Laken.
“Well, then you better stick around.” Her smile lights up her face, and that same feeling in my chest makes itself known.
I should walk away. I could mow the lawn, or hell, do some weeding. It’s been over a week, and the yard is getting out of control.
I do neither.
Instead, I pull out another stool at the island and watch as Laken takes over my kitchen.
Chapter 7
Laken
I keep my attention on the twins. I have to. If I let myself think about him, well, let’s just say we might burn the brownies.
“Ready, ladies?” I ask the girls.
“Weady!” they cheer. The smile that graces both of their faces warms my heart. They are such sweet little girls. My heart breaks for them with the loss of their mother. Grayson has done a fantastic job raising them. I make a mental note to mention that to him.
“Okay. Well, the first step of baking. You must read the directions, so you know what to expect.” I turn one of the two boxes of brownies over and begin to read the directions out loud.
“Waken, we can’t wead,” Harlow reminds me.
“Well, it’s a good thing you have your daddy and me here to help.” Harlow nods, satisfied with my answer.
“Okay, so the first step is to preheat the oven. That means that we turn it to the correct temperature and let it warm up before we put the brownies inside. Remember you should never ever touch the stove for any reason unless an adult is standing right beside you.” I give them both a look that I would imagine will be what my mom face will be when I someday have children of my own.
“Before we move on, I need for you both to promise me.”
“I pwomise,” Hayden is quick to reply.
“I pwomise too,” Harlow agrees.
“Good.” I turn my back to them to preheat the oven before turning back to face them. “All right, ladies. We have two batches, which means that you both get to make your own batch.”
“Yay!” Cheers all around make me smile.
“Let’s wash our hands, and we’ll get started.”
“We gots a stool,” Hayden says, pulling a small wooden stool with a handle up to the sink.
“That’s pretty cool,” I tell her.
“Pop made it for us.”
“Well, that was very nice of him.”
“We gots one in the bafroom too,” Harlow chimes in.
I help both of them wash their hands, and they immediately scurry back to their seats at the island.
“Daddy, you hafta wash you hands,” Hayden says.
“Daddy’s just going to watch, sweetie,” Grayson replies, popping her on the nose.
“Waken, tell hims he needs to wash hims hands,” Harlow instructs.
“You heard the ladies.” I nod toward the sink. The smile he gives me turns me inside out.
“Fine. Three against one. I’m outnumbered. Maybe I should call Ryder to come balance out the male-to-female ratio,” he quips.