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“Thank you, love.” He rolled out the second batch, then sat with his cocoa while Fen cut out cookies that looked like spring flowers and raindrops.

“These are cute,” Fen said.

“Thanks. I got the cutters from Laurie. Her mate makes them. He had a metal bender.”

“That is good to know.” Fen took the cookies out of the oven when the timer dinged, then put the next sheet in. He plowed through cookies for half an hour, then set them all up to cool. “Do we have a plan for supper today?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t gone farther than the cookies.

“Well, we have an invitation, so no cooking for you. Should we go nap?”

“Timothy invited us?” At Fen’s nod, he smiled. “A nap sounds great. We’ll be up in plenty of time for supper.”

They turned off the oven, and arms wrapped around each other, they headed upstairs.

Rory would worry about Liam later. Right now, his mate was home, and he got to snuggle.

That was better than worrying.

Chapter

Fifteen

Fen planed a board that he was shaping to put on the front or a drawer for a chest of drawers. Mrs. Wootan needed a new one for her bedroom, the old one having dry rotted and collapsed right before the run-off started.

Bless her, she had come to him and Timothy in tears. The old one had been hers since she was a girl. They were trying to recreate it as carefully as possible.

He blew the dust off the board, then checked the measurements to make sure it was the same at both ends and the middle.

“Perfect.”

“Looks good, Fen.” Timothy clapped him on the back. “Nice job. We can start dovetails tomorrow.”

John sauntered into the shop right about then, and immediately sneezed.

“Hey, John,” Timothy said, raising his eyebrows. “Did you need something?”

“I needed to come commission a dollhouse for Litha’s birthday. She was so taken with the train you made for William…”

“Sure. You just tell us what you want.”

“Now? Or do I need to set a meeting?”

“Now is fine.”

“Cool.” John glanced at Fen. “You might want to go home for lunch, though.”

His heart started to pound. “Is Rory okay?” Fen began packing his tools.

“He’s cleaning the storage room.”

“What?” Fen paused, blinking. “Why on earth is he doing that?”

“Well, everything else has been cleaned. Twice.” John waggled his own eyebrows.

Timothy laughed, clapping him on the back. “That means he’s nesting, man. You’re about to go through first-time labor with your mate.”

“I am?” His breath whooshed out of him. “I have to go.”