Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Titus reclined in the armchair, watching with tired eyes as Callie opened up another present with a wide grin on her young face. They had started opening presents roughly twenty minutes ago, reading what was written on the cards, taking pictures of everything, and eating strawberry shortcake until their stomachs had burst.

He leaned over to help Callie read what was inside of the glittery card, wincing at the pain that shot up his spine and now shoulders. Chest and neck still slightly slightly damp from having showered off after working and the baseball game – which he, Taivon, Trace, and Anna had lost – Titus felt out of it as shifted around in the recliner and forced his eyes to stay open.

Like how he had been doing for the better half of the day, Titus mentally cursed at the thing he hadn't been getting nearly enough of. Sleep had evaded him last night, mainly due to a certain redhead who was handing the six-year-old a large, pink-wrapped present that Anna had bought only today after sleeping in until eight in his bed – the very same bed in which he hadn't been able to hold her how he had wanted to because she hadn't fallen asleep.

He could still remember as his unjustified frustration grew with every very wide awake breath Anna had taken last night, especially when that breath made the air smell of mint whenever she came back from the bathroom. Last night had not been a good night – one of the worst he had seen so far. Every hour or two had graced Anna with an upset stomach that threw everything back up.

It had been about four o'clock when her stomach had finally subsided, and he had gotten to sleep. There was only one problem. An hour's worth of sleep wasn't nearly enough for Titus to function throughout the day. From beginning to end of the time he had been finishing up the miniscule amount of chores that needed to be done, he had been off his game, zoning out here and there and just resting against whatever was solid enough until he had finally finished.

And now he had to stay awake while Callie opened up the limited edition Barbie playhouse with the hot tub. The little girl's eyes widened, and she started screaming like she had for the past gifts of a Spider Man action figure, a Dora the Explorer mermaid with necessary accessories, some nail polish kit, and a huge stuffed unicorn that was taller than her.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Callie squealed, throwing her little body into his arms.

It took him a little longer to react than normal, but nobody seemed to notice. He kissed her on the forehead, hugged her, and then watched as Anna did the exact same, smiling up at him after Callie went back down in the middle of the living room to help her father throw away all the wrapping paper.

“Wait!” his mom said, taking out her camera to take a few – as she liked to call it – candid pictures. She turned, looking at him and then back at Anna and then back again with an expectant look on her face. “Aren't you missing something?”

He racked through his brain, trying to think of what a husband would do in the situation of a niece's birthday. “I don't think so?” The words came out as more of a question as he looked full-on at his mother.

“Your wedding photos! Please tell me you didn't forget about them.” Ma rolled her eyes. “You did, didn't you?”

Before he could answer, she was gone, sprinting up the stairs faster than he thought any sixty-seven-year-old could. The living room was quiet as his brothers just looked at him as if he had just told the funniest joke ever known to man. And when his mother came back down a second later, they all burst out laughing, eyes watering and mouths wide open.

“You see,” Ma huffed, holding a few boxes in her arms – some very slim yet long and the others average-sized – “we asked the photographer to mail them to us instead. So I made a scrapbook and framed pictures so you can hang 'em up in here.”