17. Chapter 17

"If you do not stop, you are going in time-out," she threatens.

Rick stops, but Ellery is giggling so hard she falls over onto the towel. Kate cracks a grin, but lifts her foot and tosses the fine grains of white sand back onto Rick's body. He feels it against his belly, his chest and grins at her, propped up on his elbows.

"Stop putting sand on me. I am *not* getting buried," she adds.

Rick sifts his hands through the hot sand again, lifting it, letting it trail out of his fingers; Ellery sits up and watches him, waiting to see what he does next. He can see the other girl, Claire, watching him too.

He slowly swings his arm closer and closer to Kate's left leg, where she's got her knees propped up as she reads from her iPad. He can tell she's watching him too, even behind those dark sunglasses.

Dashiell is off with the boys, Tate and Graham, the younger brother Tate watching anxiously over his borrowed boogie board, Austin with them. Vicki went back up to their room to grab something for Tate, and he and Kate are 'watching' the girl, Claire, as she plays with Ellery.

A few minutes ago, playing with Ellery turned into burying Ellery in the sand. Which turned into burying Castle. And now-

"It's Kate's turn," he says, grinning, and releases a fistful of sand on her knee.

She turns her head to him with a glare, intense and beautiful and righteous, then slowly looks at the sand still cascading down her leg, both sides now, towards her foot and back towards her lap, pinging off the case to the iPad.

"Richard Edgar Castle," she says slowly.

Ellery giggles again and scoots back. Claire follows suit.

"Yes, love?"

Ohhh, he's asking for it. He can't wait for-

She lunges forward, iPad miraculously sliding into her bag, her knees on his chest, palms flat on his shoulders, her eyes two narrow slits. He lifts his head from the sand. He has a great view down the front of her v-neck swimsuit, all lean curves and flat stomach, and he can feel the hard, sinuous lines of her legs from knees to ankles against his chest.

"God, you're gorgeous," he whispers, for her alone, and some of that hardness melts.

Behind her, he can hear Ellery giggling again, and Kate must hear it as well, because her mouth slides into a smile, her legs slide off his ribs (ouch), and down to the sand.

"For what I want to do to you, for your punishment," she whispers, dragging out that last word as her teeth nip his earlobe. "We'd get arrested. So sit up, stop throwing sand on me, and be thinking about how to get me alone for number six."

He sits up.

The kids are exhausted. Castle has had to promise Tate (a fourth time) that he's buying Dashiell his very own boogie board for tomorrow, and Ellery is dragging so far behind that Kate has to stop every ten feet and wait for her, pick her up, and carry her forward to meet up with their little group again.

Claire keeps tripping on Tate's boogie board, which he carries behind him on the line like a pet, and after the fifth or sixth time, she yells at him and picks it up, threatening to toss it over the boardwalk. Austin grabs it, hands it to Dash (of all people), and informs Claire of her now thirty minutes earlier bedtime.

Kate walks up with Ellery at that moment, and Claire dissolves into tears. Vicki takes her by the shoulder and slows way down with her, so that they're the ones getting left behind, giving Claire a moment to get control of herself. Dashiell, stunned to be holding Tate's board, somehow understands the importance of his new responsibility, and keeps the thing from dragging as he walks solemnly beside his new almost-friend.

Graham went ahead a few hours ago with some buddies; Castle can see now how the oldest is the peacemaker in their family. He kinda wishes the kid were back.

As they walk, he turns and takes Ella out of Kate's arms, shifting her against his chest. She's nearly asleep, and her little mouth puckers against his collarbone, her body curling up. She feels hot on her back, but he's afraid that's sunburn and not fever.

Damn. He might have forgotten to reapply right here at her spine. She doesn't seem to be complaining about it though. At least it's not Dash. A sunburn and a kid with sensory issues is a terrible, painful combination.

He's learned that lesson the hard way.

The Farrells have turned out to be okay people, funny in their own way, and Vicki has lost all of that starstruck motormouth syndrome. Which is good. Only room for one hyper, overtalkative person and that's himself. And maybe Dashiell.

The Farrells have been good though, friendly and entertaining, and while their kids aren't perfect, they handle them well, which is something. Also, it came out that Vicki and Austin met at work, the FBI no less, where Vicki is an accountant and Austin is in IT. That information offered up a whole host of ideas for Castle, who never once thought about the support staff in an FBI field office like Little Rock.

Vicki caught on to him, though, and seemed rather flattered that he was mining them for details. He gave up all pretense of suave and used Kate's iPad to make notes as they talked. So the afternoon has been profitable in more than one way.

Shifting Ellery in his arms a little, he grins in the last of the golden light and glances forward to Dash. The kid holds the board clamped against his chest, being careful of the string that Tate still has, his steps intent and well-placed. Kate has her hand on his head, ruffling his hair, massaging his scalp, her actions thoughtless and instinctive and natural.

He loves her. Just walking his tired, sunburned kids back to a cramped condo not much bigger than their loft, he loves her with a fierceness that could burn holes in the boardwalk.

Just then, Kate glances back at him with a smile, puts her hand to her stomach, and his heart flips, flips, and he can't talk past the choked feeling in his throat.

"I'm starving. Are you guys up for dinner down here? The mercantile or that little sub shop?"

Oh. Yeah. Hungry. He was out of it there for a moment, getting flashbacks or deja vu or something.

What *was* that?

"We could do that," Vicki calls out from behind them, coming up on them now with a calmer Claire.

Austin nods, Castle shrugs and gestures back to Kate. Her hand drifts from her stomach and it hits him again.

Four years ago, Kate walking ahead of him down the sidewalk in front of the Brazen Head, probably their fifth time back at the little bookstore built up inside the apartment building. She reaches back and gives him her bag to carry with her purchases inside, tells him Why don't you look inside? And so he sticks his hand in, pulls out a thin picture book: Daddy Loves His Little Girl by John Carter Cash (yes that one), and he opens it at random and finds the father and daughter in a magical *castle* by the sea and his heart flips flips

And he looks up at her, walking ahead of him on the sidewalk in New York with the golden, afternoon light pouring around her, and she lays her palm against her still-flat stomach and smiles at him and he knows (how can she be sure it's a girl?) but he knows what she's telling him, he's going to be a daddy again-

Castle's arms tighten around Ellery, his amazing little girl, and he takes a moment to close his eyes, just a second, that image so real and so poignant that it's hard to breathe. Kate in the sunlight and smiling.

"Castle?"

He opens his eyes.

"The sandwich place or the Mercantile?"

He sucks in a breath, lets it out. "What's the difference?"

"Hot food at the Mercantile."

"Let's go with hot," he says.

Against his chest, Ellery smiles, kisses his cheek as if he's gotten the right answer.

They spread out over a long table at the back of the Mercantile, having gone through the kind of buffet style line at the front of the dining room. Across the breezeway is the Market where he and Kate can pick up whatever they might have forgotten at Wal-Mart, but for now, he's content with the hot mac and cheese, the faintly meatloaf-like concoction, and the serving of thinly sliced green beans.

Dashiell does not look so happy.

"Come on, buddy. You gotta eat something."

"It smells funny in here."

"All right, I believe you. But that doesn't mean you get to not eat."

Kate's watching him handle it, but she doesn't look eager to jump in and help. Of course.

"Daddy, it's too strong."

"The smell?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, buddy. But I need you to pinch your nose and swallow it." He wags his eyebrows at his son and tries to laugh it off, make it into a joke.

Ellery giggles and shovels another spoonful of mac and cheese into her mouth. Beside her, Claire has a plateful of applesauce and mashed potatoes, mixing them together, sending dark looks down the table to her brother. Kate has gone with mac and cheese as well, their old favorite from Remy's, but she declined the meat portion and went with green beans and a serving of carrots.

Slathered in butter of course, but it's not like Kate needs to stay away from butter. The extra fat can only help at this point. Especially since he knows she eats less when she's stressed out, and she's been stressed for the last six months.

He still doesn't know the full story.

"Daddy, please don't make me-"

"Look, I know it smells funny. But this is dinner. Remember the trick Miss Julie taught us?"

"No," he says with a huff.

"Sure you do."

"Eat it with something I like," he grumbles, frowning darkly into his plate.

Tate, who has been sitting at the foot of the table, separated from everyone else by a chair to either side, leans forward and eyes Dashiell. "You can't mix food together."

"Why not?" Castle asks "Your sister is doing it."

"She does it to be mean," Tate says, frowning down the way at his sister. Austin picks up his head and gives Castle a long, slow look that apparently is supposed to mean something, but he doesn't know what.

Kate kicks his shin, narrowing her eyes, and he drops it. But *his* kid will eat his dinner if he mixes food together, so Castle is going to insist on that, regardless of Tate might think, thank you very much.

"Come on, Dash. Mac and cheese with the mashed potatoes or meatloaf with the green beans or-"

Dash hunches his shoulders like he's going to gag, and Castle jerks his plate away, grabs hims by the shoulder, scoops him out of his seat and takes a walk.

He can hear Kate sigh.

"Dashiell, do not throw up," he hisses, then takes a breath to calm down. "Do not do that again."

Dashiell crosses his arms, turns his head away, swallowing thickly. Once he starts going into fits like this, he'll be retching all night. He does it to himself, the little-

Castle sighs again, walks farther from the table, out the doors of the Mercantile, develops a new plan. Julie suggested a change of scenery, diminish the site of the incident, and redirect.

Follow the plan, Castle. He can almost hear Kate echoing it in his head.

"All right." He crosses the walkway, opens the door to the Market. "When dinner is over with, we have to walk right through here to get back to the walkway that takes us back to our condo."

"Yeah?" Dashiell asks, the relief in his voice so clear and strong that Castle feels ashamed of himself.

Damn.

"Yeah, my man." He shifts Dash in his arms and pats his back. "There's all kinds of good food in here. And we can take it back with us to the condo. Do you think it smells funny in the condo?"

Dash shakes his head.

"All right. Here's the plan. Daddy and Mommy bought you dinner, a good, nutritious dinner that's full of stuff that will help you grow big and strong. You're about to be five, and you've been running around all day, and sweaty, and you got to play with Tate's boogie board, and we already promised to buy you one too."

"Yeah," Dash says, his voice very small.

"I'm not mad at you," he says. "You didn't throw up, did you? You stopped it."

"Yeah."

"I'm not mad. But boys who have played all day and are getting a special, early birthday present later - those boys should eat their dinner."

No 'yeah' this time, but the silence is encouraging.

"Here's the thing, Dashiell. I know it smells bad. And that's really hard; it makes it difficult. But this is what life is about, this is how it works. So you eat your dinner, give your bones and blood some healthy stuff to help them out, and when we walk back through here after dinner, you can pick something out to eat at the condo."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Castle sighs, carrying Dashiell down the snack aisle. "So think about it right now, as we walk through the store. Look at everything you might like."

And it seems to do the trick. Dashiell's wan face gets some color back into it as he looks around, cataloging the possible treats available to him.

"Even chocolate?"

"Yeah, even that. But if it's chocolate or candy, you have to share with your sister."

"I always share with Ella."

"Yeah, you do," he says softly, because even though Dash might gag at a plate of harmless mac and cheese, he *does* love his sister. He doesn't glare at her across the dinner table or purposefully provoke her anger. "You're a very good brother."

"Better than Tate."

Castle bites his tongue even though he wants to agree with that statement wholeheartedly. "You're a wonderful big brother. Ellery loves you."

"I love Ella."

"I know you do, son."

Dashiell is calm again, his head resting against Castle's shoulder, and when he turns back up the aisle, the boy points. "I want that."

Popcorn? Oh-kay. "Sure. You think that's worth the green beans and the mac and cheese?"

Dash shakes his head. "Green beans and meat."

"Okay. I can do that."

"No mac and cheese."

"None at all?" Castle frowns.

"Daddy, please-" Dashiell whimpers and the sound breaks his heart.

"Okay, baby, yeah. No mac and cheese. I promise." He palms the boy's skull and kisses his forehead. "Let's get back. Mommy's worried about you."

"She's not mad?"

"Mommy's never mad at you."

"Sometimes she is. Sometimes you are too."

"Sometimes I am. Mommy never is. She has more patience."

"What's patience, Daddy?"

He sighs and pushes open the door. "The ability to wait for things to go away when they upset or annoy you."

"I don't have a lot of that either," Dash sighs. "Ellery's got it all."

Castle laughs, hugs his son a little tighter. "You're a smart kid. And you know I love you even when I'm mad, right?"

"Yeah. Course. You're my daddy."

He grins, his chest eases, and he strides across the sidewalk, opens the door to Mercantile. "Of course. You're right. There's no doubt."

"You're funny," Dashiell says, sitting up and leaning out to look around the corner as they head back to their table. "Ooh, look. Tate threw something. His Daddy is taking him out too."

Castle passes Tate and Austin, meets the man's eyes to see that common look of frustration, sees it melt out of him too.

Dashiell bounces in his arms and lunges for his seat, like the whole last twenty minutes never happened. Castle puts him down, and Dash digs into his green beans, shoving a mouthful in, chewing fast. Ellery watches him a moment, as if to reassure herself, and then goes back to her mac and cheese.

Kate lifts an eyebrow and he smiles. All good. Of course. He's the daddy, right?