Page 12 of A Clutch for Hutch (Omegas of Animals #16)

Hutch

Last night, actually, the whole day had been rather stressful.

There was just so much to be said. My mate talked with his father.

He spent some time just talking to his brother, and I was there and part of some of the conversations, but I was the outsider in this, and the decision wasn’t up to me. It was up to my mate.

When we went to bed, I held him in my arms as he dozed off peacefully.

I did not, my brain going a thousand miles a minute.

Instead, I spent a lot of time thinking about what my role in all of this should be.

My initial longing was to fix everything, to help him by making the decision and sticking by it, problem-solving like I was his boss instead of his mate.

Thankfully, I had the wherewithal to keep that all inside because that wasn’t healthy for either of us.

Instead, I needed to let him decide what he wanted.

I wasn’t trapped in the desert. Sure, I loved my home, but was it really home without him?

No. I could make do here, and it wasn’t like I had a job that I had to deal with.

We’d be fine financially no matter where we lived, and the people here had been nice to me, welcoming even.

I caught a few glances of people who were a little bit tentative about my beast, but that was to be expected in pretty much any and all circles.

Dragons were scary. I wasn’t naive enough to think everyone would look at me like a big, cuddly teddy bear.

The morning was coming quickly, and I still hadn’t made any decisions on how to help my mate.

So instead, I closed my eyes, inhaled his scent, and allowed myself to fall asleep.

It wasn’t just me anymore. I was carrying an egg or eggs…

or maybe just baby bunnies, which I just learned were called a hutch.

No wonder my mate thought it was amusing thing the first time he met me and heard my name.

“Hutch.” My mate’s lips pressed against my forehead. “It’s time to get up, honey.”

I pulled him in closer. “I don’t wanna. Let’s sleep more.”

“If we sleep more, we can’t eat the crepes my brother made.”

I wasn’t in the mood for crepes or really anything. My stomach was still queasy from not getting enough sleep, but if his brother went through the trouble of making a fancy breakfast, it was time for me to get up.

I was slow going between my shower and getting dressed, but when I met them for breakfast, he was finishing up the last of the crepes.

“Perfect timing.” I sat beside my mate, taking his hand. “Missed you.”

“You’re the one who took a twenty-minute shower, not me.” He made a face, and I couldn’t help myself, leaning in and wriggling our noses together.

“So, you’re a fancy chef,” I said to his brother.

“Hardly. But my brother loves crepes, so why not?”

I’d never had them before and didn’t realize there were so many different ways to eat them.

He had fruit, as well as a cheese blend that was either a mascarpone or a ricotta, I couldn’t quite tell, but whatever it was, it was delicious.

He also prepared one with meat and mushrooms. I had a little bit of everything, and, by the time I was done, I was beyond full and ready for a walk or a nap. Maybe both.

“What’s the plan for the day?” I stood up and grabbed my mate’s plate along with my own.

He snatched them right away. “My brother’s doing the dishes. He made the mess.”

“Whatever.” His brother collected them, a smile on his face. “Why don’t you take him for a walk through the property. Maybe shift, if you’re up for it.”

My mate looked at me, and I gave a nod. After thanking his brother, we decided to do a perimeter walk.

“This is a beautiful area.” I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed it. “I can see why you like it here.”

“Yes and no.” He shrugged. “I like the people. They’re my fluffle, of course I do, and the area’s nice, but—”

He let it hang in the air.

“But you want to keep writing.”

“I do. But also, I love my fluffle, and if they need me, I should be there for them.” He stopped in his tracks. “And you worked so hard on your house.”

“Do you know why I bought the house?”

“No.”

“Come. Let’s sit by the river over here.” I was exhausted. Probably a little bit from the pregnancy but also from the sleepless night. Sitting would do me good.

I pulled him up onto my lap.

“When I was in the city, my dragon was restless. So restless. I thought it was because of all the concrete and how lonely it felt there, and, when I saw this house, I just knew it was mine. But it wasn’t about the house, or about the concrete.

My dragon and I—we were both looking for you.

” I realized that the second his arms wrapped around me in the tackle hug.

“We didn’t know it at the time, but we were.

And now that we’ve found you, the house is just a building.

Would I love to share it with you for the rest of our lives?

Absolutely. But would I love to share your home here with you for the rest of our lives?

Absolutely. Because the thing is, as long as I’m with you, I’m home. ”

He stuck out his lip in a faux pout. “You’re not making this easy. You’re supposed to tell me what to do.”

“Do you really want a mate who tells you what to do?”

He shook his head. “No…but I really want some answers.”

“Okay, here’s my two cents. There’s something you love to do in this world—something you’re good at, something that makes you happy.

Giving that up because you feel you’re your responsibility…

I don’t know, but it doesn’t feel good to me.

” If he had a regular job, one that was a paycheck, it would be different.

Writing was his passion…so much more than a job.

“But I didn’t grow up like you did. I didn’t have a fluffle or a flight, so I don’t understand the connection to your fluffle. So if you decide you want this, I’m not going to stop you. I’m gonna be your number-one cheerleader.”

“You—I don’t want this.” He let out a long sigh.

“I don’t want to make my dad upset or the fluffle, but I don’t want this.

I want to live with you in that house, maybe add some more additions on the back or the side just because we can, and fill that ridiculously large greenhouse with all sorts of herbs and flowers and tomatoes…

so many tomatoes, and I want to raise our children there. But I feel selfish.”

“Mate, you have one life, and that one life is one that you should live the way you want to. That’s not selfish. That’s self-care.”

He buried his face in my chest. “You sound like one of those self-help gurus.”

“I probably stole it from one of them. But really—it’s not selfish, I promise. And they’ll understand. And if they don’t? Blame me. I don’t mind.”

“I could never blame you. Unless it’s for my happiness. Then it’s 100 percent your fault.”

“I gladly accept the responsibility…100 percent.”