Page 64 of As The Shifter World Turns

64

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES

Ryder

“Morning, mate.” I loved the sound of that. I was pretty sure it would never get old. I had a sickeningly sweet habit of calling him that as often as possible and I wasn’t even close to sorry. It made me happy and from the look in his eyes most of the time, it made him happy too. Of course now, his eyes were closed and all I could see was his mouth curling up into a sleepy smile.

“I made you waffles,” I offered by way of temptation. If he didn’t need to be somewhere later that morning, I’d have let him sleep the day away. Heck, I’d have encouraged him to, but he had to work—which was one of the things I’d been meaning to talk to him about since we mated. “Really yummy waffles.”

Ivor’s morning sickness was getting better but it wasn’t great. Some days he was fine, like when he ate curry puffs, and other days he puked. Eating before he got out of bed seemed to help and it was something I could easily provide. I’d rather take his pukiness from him, but that wasn’t a thing that could happen, so waffles it was.

“Waffles?” He smiled sleepily and pushed himself up to sit. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can just keep crackers by the bed. That’s what the book said.”

“The book was looking for simple solutions, not the best ones.”

“And waffles are the best?” He covered my arm with his hand.

“Mine are.” They were from a box mix, but they still were fabulous. I gave the old waffle iron I found at a yard sale the credit for their amazingness. It was probably older than me and weighed a ton. Loved it.

“True.” He took the tray I offered him. “I put butter on them but I can get syrup or something if you want.” He always wanted just butter, but being pregnant who knew. He might want pickles on it or something weird.

“Butter is perfect. Sit with me?” Things were still not super smooth with us but they had improved and this meant a ton to me. Proof we were going to be okay… for real.

“Let me grab mine.” I jogged out to the kitchen and grabbed my plate of now tepid, lopsided waffles. The test one always ended up like that.

Once back in the bedroom, I sat beside him.

“I was wondering something,” I started just as he filled his mouth because I was a chicken and wanted him to think it through before he answered. This was really important to me for some reason and I wanted the answer to be in the affirmative. Would I press him if it was not? Absolutely no, but I’d be disappointed, that was for sure.

“How do you feel about coming back to work with me after the baby is born? You could work from home and not have the stress of childcare and all that.” It sounded less crappy when I practiced it in my head. “I mean we wouldn’t… I mean I’ll eat now.”

I shoved a forkful of waffle into my mouth waiting for him to respond and being flustered because he did what I wanted him to and thought first.

“I like my job. They offered me a better health insurance plan with no deductible. I love the flexibility—they even said I could work from home most of the week after the baby comes. It’s a good job, Ryder. I lucked out with it.” He had so many solid reasons. But still… it felt like more than that.

“I can give you all of that too,” I countered, although not the deductible insurance part. I would need to look into it more. But I’d find a way.

“But we need time not together. I love you. You love me. But I think we stand a better chance of still feeling that way if we aren’t with one another all of the time.” He set his fork down and faced me. “And funny thing is, if you asked me before I started seeing Joy, my therapist, I’d have said yes so I could keep an eye on your help.” He’d gotten a recommendation for Joy from Neil’s former therapist. The guy was probably a little wary about seeing the friend of the client who developed feelings for him.

“And now?” I asked.

“Now I want to keep my job. It’s for the best. Don’t be mad, please.”

“I’m not mad. I promise, but if you don’t feed our baby waffles I might get a little cross. Babies love waffles.”

“Did someone take a survey?” he chuckled.

“I think a phone survey… now eat.”

And I hadn’t lied to him. I wasn’t mad, but it did sting a bit.

Nei l

“Go fish.” Toby smiled up at me with a grin.

I drew my card… an ace of hearts which while an awesome card, was completely useless to my hand.

“Ace of hearts.” He had to be kidding me. This kid was a card shark if I ever met one.

I handed the card to him and he lay down his last pair. “That means you owe me ice cream.”

“That was my promise. Let me ask your dad first.”

“He’s going to say it’ll spoil my dinner,” he grumbled.

“Then we can go after dinner or tomorrow. A promise is a promise.” I took out my phone to text Martin. He had to work late and I’d offered to hang out with Toby. I refused to call it babysitting because that implied he would owe me for my time or something and that’s not how it was or at least not how I wanted it to be.

“If you were mated you could just decide.”

I dropped my phone. Of all the things I thought might come from his mouth, something about his father being mated to me wasn’t one of them.

“We’re not, though.” I bent down to grab my phone, crossing everything that was the end of the conversation.

I unlocked my phone and started to type when Toby decided it was a great time to have me drop it again. “Why aren’t you and my dad mated yet?”

This time it was more of a fumble than a drop.

“Grown-ups need—-because—we aren’t ready.” There. That wasn’t going to get me into trouble, probably. I really needed a manual on this stuff.

Toby won Go Fish. Can I take him to get ice cream?

“I messaged your father. I’ll let you know when he gets back to me. Why don’t you use the bathroom in case we can go.”

“Okay.” He started to bound off, then stopped and looked back towards me. “I think he’ll text back yes,” he conjectured and then ran into the bathroom.

That’s fine. Thanks for watching him.

Thank me after you find out what he asked me. I put a winky face so he wouldn’t worry, but there was no way I could avoid telling him about that fun little conversation and my inability to answer it.

If it was about getting a dog, the answer is no, he sent back right away.

Toby was determined to get a dog. Martin would cave too. He just hadn’t yet, but I suspected it would happen soon.

Noted. See you after work.

Toby came running out. “What did he say?”

“He said you can have ice cream but you’re not getting a dog.” I stood up, slipping the phone in my pocket.

“He always says that about the dog.” He pouted and went to the door. “Maybe he’ll be cool with a brother. They’re fun too.”

I didn’t respond to that. There were no words I could say that wouldn’t make things more awkward and potentially get me into trouble with Martin. So instead I enacted one of my favorite techniques while coaching: Divert. Divert. Divert.

“I was thinking about getting one of those things where they make the vanilla soft serve,” I grabbed my keys from the counter, “and you put candy in it, but they mix it up like a shake and you eat it with a spoon. How about you?”

I opened the door and we stepped out.

“I love those, especially with the tiny gummy bears. They get extra chewy.”

Crisis averted.

At least for now.

And the scary part was that I wasn’t even sure what upset me more. Fumbling my words and not explaining it right, the fact that Martin and I hadn’t even discussed mating, Toby’s desire for a sibling, or my nerves over the necessity of having this conversation with Martin.

And if mating and siblings were anything at all like puppies, ignoring it was not an option.