I sat up, my mind grasping what he was saying. “A nest?”

“Yeah, not to give birth in but so we can snuggle and it’s warm and we can talk about our baby and how life will change.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

My shifter abilities helped, and I tore about the house, at twice the speed of a human. I arranged everything in the middle of the bed, then tossed them on the floor because I didn’t like what I’d done.

“How’s it going in there?” Joss’s voice reached me as I stood in the doorway, thinking whether the cushions should be placed around the edge, or in the middle with the pillows. Or should it be arranged like a color wheel, so red to orange to yellow and so on.

“Harder than I thought.”

My mate appeared in the doorway. “I need something soft, so let’s toss everything on the bed. It doesn’t matter if it’s messy, and we can bounce into it.”

My mate was pregnant. There couldn’t be any of that.

“I know that look.” He waggled his finger at me. “I’m not going to run and leap face first or do a somersault. Just butt first and bounce.”

“Fine. Let’s get messy.” We got everything onto the mattress in a big jumble, and I held out my hand and he clasped it. We bounced together and lay on our backs snuggling, covered and surrounded my softness.

“This is nice.” The gentleness of this temporary nest contracted with the harsh warnings I had installed. I placed my hand on Joss’s belly and whispered to our baby that I’d always be there to make sure they avoided the sharp corners of life.

“Oh, Garner, that’s so sweet. You are going to be the best dad.” My mate’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you.”

“Love you right back.”

I hoped I’d measure up as a dad. My dad reared me and Booker to be the best people we could be and to always chase our dreams. But my dream came true when I met Joss, and another dream was fulfilled when he got pregnant.

We lay in one another’s arms and talked of how we’d decorate the nursery. I agreed with whatever my mate wanted, because if I’d consulted him on the safety features I was installing, I wouldn’t have messed up.

“But there is one thing I bought that I hope you’ll love.” Our little one would have a tricycle, and they needed a helmet. And when they were older, they’d have a bike and we’d be cycling together as a family. I pulled three boxes from under the bed.

Joss’s eyes lit up. “For me?” He squeed.

“One of them is. One’s mine, and the other’s for the baby.”

Joss opened the smallest box first and tears filled his eyes. “It’s adorable.” It was a bike helmet shaped like a fox’s head with pointed red ears. “I love it. The fox family.”

Ours were similar, only adult size. We put them on and snapped pics. Shame they were so hard ‘cause I would have liked to sleep in mine.

“I can’t wait to meet our little one.”

22

JOSS

I was the size of a house. Or at least, it felt that way.

And unlike some people, I didn’t hate it. Not one bit. From the moment my belly started popping out, I’d embraced it like it was a second career. I grabbed those paternity clothes without hesitation. I wore shirts to work that said “baby bump” with a giant arrow pointing straight to my middle.

Was it business casual? Absolutely not. Did I care? Also absolutely not. I knew the CEO. What were they going to do about it?

And as the weeks ticked by, those shirts—those adorable, stretchy, meant-to-grow-with-you shirts—got tighter and tighter. My belly extended further and further out until it was basically a shelf. A warm, solid, curved shelf. When I sat down, I would rest my tea on it during movie nights with Garner, both of us pretending that was normal behavior while I marveled at the ridiculousness of it.

Still, the food things were weird. Not bad, just... unpredictable. I found things I liked, like citrus popsicles, instant oatmeal withpeanut butter, and this one brand of canned peaches that tasted like childhood and gold, but part of me kept wondering if my normal food preferences would return.

Would I like coffee again? Would I like my diet soda again? Would I ever eat an egg and think it was the best thing ever again?

Only time would tell.