Chapter 15
Chapter 15
#Chapter 15 – Water Playing
“Bed?!” I call out to the boys, surprised by their request. “It’s only…7 o’clock. You haven’t even had dinner!”
“Bed, bed!” the two boys shout, leaping to their feet and running around the pool. “Let’s go to bed!”
“Okay,” I say, shrugging. “Sorry Victor,” I say, turning to him. “Looks like the boys want to go home.”
“NO!” Ian shouts. “We can go to bed here! Dad has a BIG bed – we saw it upstairs! You said we could have a sleepover!”
“Yes, they should sleep here,” says Victor, eager to keep control.
“Bed! Bed! Bed!” The boys begin to chant, climbing on the ping pong table and hopping around.
“Boys, get down from there,” I say, anxious. I walk over and reach out my arms to lift them down.
“No!,” Ian shouts, an impish expression on his face. “You have to catch me first! And then we’ll go to BED!” Shrieking with laughter, he and Alvin leap from the table and fly by me, running around the pool.
“NO running!” Victor shouts, authoritative, expecting them to obey. The boys ignore him, laughing harder, jumping over lounge chairs and pushing floats into the pool.
“Boys!” I shout, using my best mom voice. It has no effect. I move towards the edge of the pool as they come around it, making a full circle. They’ll have to run right past me.
“Catch us! Catch us!” They shriek, dodging me and zipping by. I reach out as fast as I can, snatching at the tail of Ian’s shirt – missing – reaching for Alvin’s arm –
Suddenly, I feel my left leg go out from beneath me. I stumble sideways and gasp, seeing nothing but blue pool before me when – bam! I feel a strong arm around my waist, pulling me back and steadying me.
“Are you all right, Evelyn?” I gasp as Victor pulls me to him, holding me steady until I find my feet.
“Um, yes,” I say, brushing hair out of my face and looking around for the boys, avoiding eye contact as he holds me close. “Stilettos aren’t…pool friendly footwear, are they?”
“I’d say not,” Victor murmurs, finally taking back his hands.
Then, out of the blue, from behind Victor I hear Ian shout: “LET’S PLAY MARCO POLO!” and I spy a flash of him standing right behind Victor, hands up, ready to shove.
Victor collides with me and we both topple, suddenly, helplessly, into the pool. I surface frantically, gasping for air, just in time to see the boys cannon ball into the water fully clothed.
“Alvin! Ian!” I shout, full of rage. I can’t believe they’ve done this.
The boys swim around, shrieking “Marco!” and “Polo!,” completely lost in the excitement of their game. I struggle to the side of the pool and support myself against the wall, trying to come up with a hasty plan to get them back in line, when I hear a roar.
Shocked, I turn towards the sound. The boys fall silent mid-laugh. Victor is standing in the shallow end about ten feet away, teeth fully bared, full Alpha asserting his authority over his pack. If he wasn’t soaking wet, he would be…terrifying.
“Alvin! Ian!” He snaps. “You will come to heel. NOW.” The boys, silent, paddle towards him until they each stand at his side, up to their shoulders in the water.
Victor swiftly dips down and gathers one boy under each arm, holding them still with absolute strength. “You boys,” he growls, “will learn to respect your Alpha, and to listen to me when I tell you to behave.”
“Yes, sir,” the boys mumble. I raise my eyebrows, never having seen them so cowed.
Victor turns and carries them bodily out of the pool, setting them on the concrete where they stand silent and still. Then he pulls his sopping dress shirt off over his head, tossing it in a soggy pile on the ground, and moves to take the boys’ shirts off too so that they can begin to get dry.
I stare at Victor, taking in the sight of his shirtless body, realizing that he’s somehow gotten in better shape than he was five years ago, his supposed prime. His muscles move powerfully under the skin on his shoulders, his back, his stomach…
“Evelyn?” He turns to me and I blink, realizing suddenly that I’ve been staring.
“Yeah!” I say, slipping back into the pool and swimming over to the shallow end, where I pull off my pumps and climb out.
“Alvin, Ian,” I say sternly, making my way over to all three. “That was unacceptable. You owe Victor and I an apology while we think up your punishment.”
The boys look up at me with doe eyes as Victor hands me a towel from a bin. “While we discuss it, why don’t you two go wash off all this chlorine in the shower,” I say, nodding my head at Victor’s fancy outdoor bathing area. God, he really does have everything.
The boys nod and begin to dash over to the shower. “Walk!” I shout after them, “and no nonsense.” They obediently slow their gate.
“I’m sorry, Victor” I say, drying myself off as best I can, grimacing at my ruined silk dress. “They’re mischievous, but not usually this bad.”
“It’s okay,” he says, smirking. “They just have a lot of energy and need a firm hand, like you said. They remind me…a lot of myself, when I was their age.”
“Really?” I say, curious. “You’re so…controlled, now. I have trouble thinking of you as wild, impulsive.”
“Really,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me. “I’d think that you, of all people, could maybe think of a time when I was…impulsive.” At this, his eyes wander down my body and I look down at myself, realizing that my soaking dress reveals more of my figure beneath it than I’d like to have on display.
I blush horribly and turn my back to him, pretending to concentrate on drying my hair. Victor laughs behind me, not falling for it. “Come on, Evelyn, let’s get you some dry clothes – I’m sure I can find something of Amelia’s that will fit.”
“Are we going in?” Alvin and Ian wander back over to us, damp but fresh. Alvin rubs his eyes. “I am sleepy.” Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
“Yes, boys, come on,” Victor says, ushering us all inside. “Warm dry clothes for everyone, and bedtime for boys. And for your punishment…I will tell you a VERY scary story.” He bares his teeth, kidding.
“Noooo” whines Alvin, “we want Mama to tell the story, she always tells it best.”
“We’ll take turns,” Victor concedes, and we troop up the stairs to Victor’s bedroom which is, predictably, gigantic. Victor gives me a set of Amelia’s soft pink sweats and helps the boys into their pajamas while I change. When I return, all three are cuddled up in the middle of his California king.
I awkwardly perch on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do next. Victor called me over to his house to help control the boys, and suddenly I’m in his bedroom wearing his girlfriend’s clothes? I admit, I’m out of my element.
“You have to come clooooooser, mama” Ian whines, putting out his hands to me. “And tell us the good story.”
“What’s the good story?” Victor asks passively, stroking Ian’s hair.
“The story of our dad, and how he met our mommy,” Ian says, heaving a big yawn.
“It changes every time, and we get to ask questions, and guess if it’s real or just a story,” Alvin adds, smiling with his eyes closed.
Victor laughs at that. “Oh really? And do you think you’ve ever heard the truth?”
“No, mommy always says daddy is a cowboy, or a superman, or a space alien,” Alvin says, “but in reality, he’s just you, and you’re not any of those things.”
“Well,” Victor says, looking straight at me, “would you like to hear the real story, right from the horse’s mouth?”
The boy’s eyes fly open. “YES!”