Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The next morning, Anthony decided that just maybe he owed his mother a big hug. And a kiss. And some diamonds. And definitely a million dollars. He had no idea how she had handled six kids.

“Unca Ant, Unca Ant.”

Oh, lord. He opened one eye and saw that the sun had just started to come up. The fact that the boy had run him ragged the night before was enough. How did Jon have enough energy to wake up now? Probably because he was a demon. Anthony was sure Demons had enough energy to stay awake for days. They probably sucked all the extra energy out of humans. It made sense in his sleep-deprived mind.

He rolled over and had to swallow a scream when he found Jon within inches of his face. The little devil was fond of staring at him while he slept. If he remembered correctly, so did his father Marco.

“Jesus.”

Jon smiled. He was still wearing his Marvel Universe PJ’s. “Unca Ant, when you getting up?”

“In about three hours.”

“That is a long time. A really long time.”

Suspicion licked through him. “Have you been up?”

He nodded, telling Anthony that Jon really had worn him out. There was only one bed, and Jon had slept with him. Anthony hadn’t even felt him move off the bed. Of course, his father was a SEAL, so that might be bred into his DNA.

“I went to the bathroom.”

And apparently was proud of himself. “Good boy.”

“Now, breakfast. I’m hungry.” He rubbed his belly.

“Okay, give me a second. My bones are old.”

Anthony sat up and Jon giggled. “You creak like Papa.”

He slanted his little cousin a dirty look. He wasn’t talking about his father Marco. Jon was talking about his grandfather, known to one and all as Papa. Always great to be compared to a man in his sixties. Not that Papa wasn’t in good shape, but…damn.

He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was used to early mornings. Couldn’t be a Marine, or raised by one, and not be accustomed to getting up before the sun. But, then, he had never dealt with a tiny Santini on his own. The boy never seemed to stop.

“You sleep a really long time, Unca Ant.”

He sighed, slipped out of bed, then cringed when he heard his bones creak again. Damn. Anthony glanced at the clock. Great. He’d had about five hours of sleep. Who would have known having cookies at nine at night was a bad idea? Jon’s mother, that’s who. Alana warned him when he carted the kid off for their sleepover.

After taking care of the necessities, he pulled on a pair of shorts and headed out to the kitchen. His pint-size shadow followed on his heels.

“So, Jon, my boy. What should we have for breakfast? Pancakes?”

He hit the button on his coffeemaker. He’d been prepared and made sure to have a lot of it ready for his morning. Of course, he didn’t think the pot he had set to brew would be enough. He scrubbed a hand over his face again. Fuck. Three pots wouldn’t be enough.

“I don’t want pancakes,” Jon said, breaking into his thoughts.

He turned to face the little boy and leaned against the counter. “No pancakes?”

Jon shook his head and lifted his chin. “Cookies.”

Anthony was now regretting the decision to bribe the toddler with goodies if he went to bed on time. He thought for sure the little guy would forget by the time he got up the next morning. But, then, when a Santini wanted something, they rarely forgot about it.

“Cookies are for later.”

He gave Anthony the legendary Santini grin. Anthony blinked. He was the perfect combination of his mother and father. Alana’s sweet round face and Marco’s charm.

“Cookies.” This time, he had added a little sweetness to his tone. The boy wasn’t even in kindergarten, and he was already trying to charm things out of people. This Santini didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Listen, bud. That smile works on women, not men. At least not on me. No cookies for breakfast.”

The smile faded and the toddler’s lips quivered. He was either going to cry or throw a fit only a Santini could produce. He had seen it from afar, but never had to deal with one up close. Before Jon could lose it, there was a knock at the door.

“Ah, saved by the knock. Let’s go see who it is, Jon boy.”

Jon didn’t look happy about it, but he followed on Anthony’s heels.

When Anthony saw his cousin’s face, he smiled and opened the door. “Didn’t think I would see you for awhile.”

Marco laughed. “Letting Alana sleep.”

“Daddy,” Jon yelled as he catapulted in Marco’s direction. He caught his son easily and hefted him up in his arms.

“Having fun with Anthony?”

The little boy shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Really? I thought you liked Anthony.”

Jon settled his head on Marco’s shoulder. “No cookies for breakfast.”

Marco laughed.

“Hey, I offered you pancakes.”

“Hmm, pancakes,” Marco said, with the same smile his son had tried to use to get cookies.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Come on. I guess I can offer up a breakfast for a returning hero—even if you are in the Navy.”

Marco laughed and followed him. “And, you know, bacon sounds good.”

“Of course it does. In the fridge.”

Marco easily handled getting the bacon while still holding his son. He set it on the counter next to the stove.

“I wanted to thank you for keeping an eye on Alana while I was gone. I know she can handle herself, but it’s nice to have family nearby.”

He nodded. “And you repay me by mooching breakfast off me?”

Marco laughed. It was nice to hear. When his cousin had returned the night before, Marco had smiled, but there had been shadows. They were still there, and Anthony understood them. He had his fair share of them. Anthony was just glad Marco had someone to help him through those times.

“Well, that is one reason I’m here. Alana wanted to have you over for dinner. Sort of a welcome home thing.”

“A party?”

Before he could answer, Anthony’s phone rang. He saw the caller ID and rolled his eyes.

“Aunt Joey. It’s kind of early.”

“Oh, please. You are all alike. You are up and ready to go. I bet you’re cooking breakfast.”

The woman was canny. She always knew what they were all doing. “Yes, but maybe I have company. And maybe she wouldn’t understand a woman calling me this early.”

There was a pause. For one split second, he felt victorious. It was hard to get one over on Joey Santini. Of course, she proved to be the same Joey Santini he grew up fearing in the next second.

“So, have you told your mother about this woman?”

“Ahhh, hmmm, not sure my mother would be happy with my choice. I mean, she’s truly one of the most accepting people, but she might draw the line at a stripper.”

Marco ruined it by laughing.

“That is my boy laughing in the background. And I am going to tell your mother what you did.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Aunt Joey. Want to talk to Marco?”

“Yes. Although, I want to know how you’re doing first. Are you liking Hawaii?”

“Yes. Enjoying it and NCIS here. A lot less political.”

“Yes, it’s hard to be in any military organization with the last name Santini. People always expect you to be going after things. Been out much?”

“Not much,” he said laying the bacon in the pan. “Every time one of my siblings gets married, I have to hop over to the mainland.”

“Yes, well, one of these days we will all come there for your wedding.”

A cold chill rushed down his spine. “Good Lord, Aunt Joey, don’t say that.”

She laughed. “Why?”

“Whenever you say that, people end up married. I have too much on my plate right now.”

“Like what?” she asked sweetly. “You’re not getting any younger.

And she was evil. Just stone cold evil.

“I’m training for the triathlon.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure the bacon I hear sizzling in the background isn’t going to help.”

“I happen to be cooking breakfast for your son and your grandson.”

“Aw, now aren’t you sweet. Okay, I’ve sufficiently harassed you and can report back to your mother. Let me talk at that boy of mine.”

The boy was a full grown Navy SEAL who could easily kill someone with two fingers, but Anthony knew that Joey thought of them as boys and always would.

He handed the phone to Marco. “Hey, Mom. I just talked to you yesterday.”

Marco laughed and Anthony turned back to the stove to work on breakfast. The faint scent of plumeria drifted through the window, as the sun sparkled off the waves of the Pacific Ocean.

It was a damned perfect way to start his day.