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Mila

“You’re making French Napoleons," Carter observed, taking his usual seat at the island. “Is that an extra you’re throwing in? I don’t remember seeing it on the order from Jesse.”

“Yes!” Mila said, setting aside her piping bag and admiring her mille-feuille. “I really want to impress them.”

“You already have,” Carter reminded her.

“It can only help to exceed expectations," Mila said, quoting her mother.

“I guess.” Carter didn’t sound convinced.

Mila ignored his lack of enthusiasm. She had enough for both of them! “I can’t wait to take Mildred for a ride. We can drop off The Pack House’s order and then visit Rissa. If she’s awake.”

Gio and Carter had stolen her van for an entire week. When it reappeared yesterday, it had new tires, new transmission, and a new paint job that made her tear up. It had the logo for Mila’s Sweets on both sides along with the business number and web address for her new company.

They wanted to buy her a whole new van, but Mila couldn’t stand the thought of getting rid of the vehicle. Mildred not only got her out of South Dakota but sheltered her through some of the worst times in her life. That van was basically family.

“She’s going to be the prettiest van on the road,” Carter said, leaning over so he could swipe a finger in the bowl of pastry cream and bring it to his mouth.

“Bad wolf!” Mila admonished with a laugh

“Bad,” Carter agreed. “But only in the best way.”

“Why is Carter a bad wolf?” Gio asked as he walked in.

He was dressed in his normal paint-stained clothes, some of the smears looking fresh.

He was currently obsessing over the painting of her and Carter.

They didn’t need to pose for it anymore, but he still refused to show them. He kept saying it wasn’t right yet.

Carter warned her that sometimes Gio had meltdowns over his art and destroyed it before anyone could see. He’d told her the best thing was to leave Gio alone, so Mila stopped asking.

“Oh, nothing,” Mila said and moved to the fridge. She pulled out a beer for Carter. A quick swipe with the back of a knife sent the beer cap sailing off into the sink.

The first time she’d done that trick, it had sent Carter into a fit over how dangerous it was. She’d still been holding the knife and had pointed it at him asking if he wanted the same treatment as the beer.

He’d shut up and never said anything about her bottle opening technique again.

It felt good to be this person she was all the time. She never felt pressured to be perfect and pleasant around Carter and Gio. She could even be grumpy occasionally without them acting like she was being horrible.

It was so liberating!

Turning, she handed the beer to Carter, then returned to the fridge for a bag of blood. Without hesitation, she cut the bag open and poured the contents into Gio’s favorite mug. It had taken a full week before she was comfortable with Gio’s food, but now it didn’t bother her at all.

He smiled when she handed it over. That’s when she noticed Carter had stolen a tray of mille-feuille she’d put together and had already eaten two of them.

“Carter!”

“What?” he asked, trying to look innocent even though his mouth was full of pilfered pastry. “It’s your fault for putting them too close to a wolf with no impulse control and an empty stomach.”

She tried to look severe but couldn’t hold up in the face of Carter’s charm. Gio chuckled into his mug.

It was all so perfectly domestic that Mila went silent for a moment, losing herself in a feeling of happiness and contentment.

“Mila?”

She focused on Gio to see him watching her with curiosity. “Yes?”

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” she said, feeling nothing but satisfaction at finally giving them her answer.

“Ready?” Carter said, some custard on his bottom lip. She came around the island and both men turned their stools to face her. She picked up a dish towel and wiped Carter’s lip clean.

She had the impulse to use her tongue but needed to stay focused. If she and Carter started kissing, they’d all end up in the bedroom.

Carter pretended to be upset when she cleaned off his lip. “Hey, I was saving that for later. Anyway, what are we ready for?”

While Carter was confused, Gio’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Do you mean you want to share souls?”

She held out her hands, letting each man take one. “I am.”

“Best day ever!” Carter exclaimed, making Mila chuckle.

“You say that every time I cook,” she said. “They can’t all be the best day ever.”

“Why not?” Carter retorted. “With both of you in my life, every day is the best day.”

“I agree with Carter,” Gio said. “Every day with my flock is the best day.”

“I’ll join the consensus,” Mila said, squeezing their hands. “These are all the best days. How do we do this? Do I need to lay down or something?”

Gio shook his head. “We wait till dark. It’s important that I'm at full strength.”

Mila nodded. “Then maybe we could—”

Before she could suggest they all go upstairs with a bag of piping to play decorate-the-baker, there was loud banging on the front door.

Carter drew back his lips, his suddenly long canines matching his dark, glowing eyes. “What the hell?”

Gio looked at her. “Expecting anyone?”

Mila shook her head, although everyone knew where she lived. This house was her official business address. She’d asked Gio about renting a PO box, but he said it wasn’t necessary. Had some eager customer decided to track her down instead of simply calling or emailing?

Carter dropped her hand and stood up. “I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.”

Like she was going to wait in the kitchen. She and Gio followed Carter to the door. Gio stayed back enough to be safe from the afternoon sun.

When Carter swung the door open, Mila saw something that made her gasp.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

Carter’s scowl didn’t change. “So these are your parents?” He pulled his lips back into a threatening smile. “Mila is ours now, go away.”

He started swinging the door shut, but Mila’s dad stepped up to stop it. He didn’t expect Carter’s strength and ended up knocked back into Mila’s mom.

“Carter, don’t do that!” Mila said, pushing past him to grab her mom and dad to steady them. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” James blustered, pushing past Barb to confront Carter. They all ended up in the foyer, so Gio was able to join their group.

“We are Mila’s mates,” Carter said, making Mila wince.

“He means they’re my boyfriends,” she said. Might as well get this over with. “Carter, Gio, this is Barb and James.”

It was fun to watch her parents' collective jaws drop as they took in the tall, muscular Carter and the smaller, but still substantial, Gio. She could tell they were noting Gio’s paint-stained clothing and Carter’s lack of a shirt. They’d probably already discussed the house and location.

She couldn’t wait to hear what conclusion they would—

“Is this some kind of compound situation?” James asked, turning his gaze on Gio. “Are you a cult?”

Cult? she hadn’t expected that one. Anthony and the other siblings were going to laugh their asses off!

“This isn’t a cult,” Mila said with a huff and tried to move past Carter. He grabbed her and pressed her back against his front. She could tell it wasn’t that he was being forceful with her, but that he was worried about Barb and James trying to grab her and drag her off.

Honestly, he wasn’t far off. They might resort to being physically domineering with her when pressured.

“I think it takes more than three people to be considered a cult,” Gio said with a light laugh. She could tell he was trying to defuse the situation.

It didn’t work.

“I won’t let my daughter be used,” Barb said, poking a finger in Gio’s chest.

Gio ignored Barb’s actions but stopped smiling. “We aren’t using your daughter, we love her.”

“If anyone used her, it was you,” Carter snapped.

“We’re her family,” James barked. “Not two men taking advantage of a naive girl.”

“You’ve grossly misinterpreted this situation,” Gio said. “You’re seeing malfeasance where there isn’t any. Perhaps it’s a guilty conscience driving you to that conclusion?”

“Let's all go into the kitchen,” Mila said, unable to handle the growing tension. She was especially worried about how pale and unsteady her father looked. He was trying to stand tall and look strong, but he was wavering a little on his feet.

Carter turned her to face him. “We can make them leave. You’ll never have to see them again.”

“They’re my parents,” Mila said, wishing she could take Carter up on his offer.

“They are welcome to stay and speak with us, but they will be civil,” Gio said, his tone cold and formal. His normal slight Italian accent was gone. Now he sounded like a disapproving British royal. She was really glad he’d never used that tone with her!

“This way,” Mila said, eager to get her dad off his feet. She rushed ahead of them and pulled out one of the kitchen table chairs.

James collapsed into a chair the moment he was close. Barb remained standing. Crossing her arms, she stood next to James’s chair as if ready to defend him from Gio or Carter.

Gio sat at the table across from James and Barb. Mila was too agitated to sit down so she busied herself putting on a pot of coffee and arranging pastries on a plate.

“I can’t believe you found me! You guys should've called, I could’ve picked you up from the airport. Did Anthony tell you about the business?” she asked, trying to pretend this was a friendly visit.

“Yes,” Barb answered. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us. We thought you were still a private chef.”

“I sorta do the cooking too,” Mila said.

“Mila spoils us with all these amazing home-cooked meals. She’s so talented,” Carter said, giving her a loving look.

“I’m not that good,” Mila said, bringing the plate of pastries over.