Page 9
Jeremy paced around the house with a two-year-old twin under each arm. Tori and Gigi giggled and kicked their legs, but Jeremy kept pacing as if he’d forgotten he carried them. It was part of the game their girls loved, but at the moment Lucy was pretty sure he wasn’t playing, instead carting the twins around out of an experienced father’s reflex and habit.
“He’s got to be the most clueless wolf in the pack.” Jeremy shook his head.
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” Lucy said, “now that you’ve hit him over the head with it.”
“Somebody had to, with Cassius all non-committal, not wanting to be pushy.”
“Or he’d figure it out for himself at some point,” Lucy said, “if she really is his true mate.”
“She is.” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Wolf senses don’t lie.”
He set down the squirming girls, who immediately put their arms up to be held again with a chorus of “Fly! Fly!” Lucy watched while her wolf tossed first one girl then the other into the air while they squealed and giggled.
“Again!” Gigi shouted when Tori toddled off to join four-year-old Callie, who was standing every Barbie doll in the house along the brick fireplace, the “stage” for their “concert.”
Jeremy gave Gigi a final ceiling-ward toss, then held up his hands. “That’s it for now, Gigi-bug. Want to go play Barbies?”
Gigi’s face puckered up. “No.”
“Well, then feel free to play whatever else you want.”
“Want to play flyin’.”
“Whatever else you want besides Barbies and flying.”
With another scrunched-up scowl, Gigi joined her sisters.
On the couch next to Lucy, Zane was sticking close. He’d been a brave six-year-old today, needing a major bandage for a fairly major cut on his hand and exulting in the future scar he’d get as well as the grape sucker he was allowed to eat between meals. But now that the excitement was over and their company had gone home, Zane had cuddled up to Lucy.
Jeremy sank down on the other side of the couch, and Zane gave a little bounce and grin.
“I’m the middle of the sandwich, and you’re the bread.” He pointed at Jeremy and Lucy.
“What sort of sandwich is it? Are we a tuna melt?” Jeremy ruffled Zane’s hair.
Zane laughed. “I’m not tuna-fish.”
“Are you…grilled cheese?” Now Jeremy poked Zane’s shoulder.
“No, Dad. Come on, keep guessing.”
“I know what. You’re peanut butter and jelly.”
“I’m not peanut butter and jelly. Obviously .” Then he perked up. “But you and Mom could be, because your hair is brown like peanut butter, and Mom’s hair is burgundy, which is sort of purple like jelly.”
“Very astute,” Lucy said with a little nudge to his other shoulder. “Did you know my hair used to be purple?”
Their firstborn pup’s eyes widened. “No.”
“When I met your dad, it was.”
“Huh,” Zane said. Then he shrugged. “Three guesses, you’re out. Our sandwich is a B.L.T.”
“Of course it is. I totally dropped the ball on that one.” Jeremy draped his arm over the back of the couch.
“Hey, Dad, who’s the most clueless wolf in the pack?”
With a hint of panic, Jeremy’s deep-blue eyes met hers over Zane’s head. Lucy shrugged. He’d gotten himself into this one.
Jeremy sighed. “Nobody’s clueless, pup. I was frustrated when I said that.”
“Who were you frustrated with though?”
“Aaron.”
Zane’s eyes grew wide. “Aaron’s not clueless, Dad.” He lifted his bandaged hand. “Look. He couldn’t save me from bleeding if he was clueless.”
“You’re right, Zane. I’m sorry I used that word. Aaron’s a smart wolf and the best medic our pack could ask for.”
“You shouldn’t be frustrated with him. Because he saved me.”
“I’m not frustrated anymore.”
“Okay. Good. I’m going to go play cowboys and wagon trains now.” Zane boosted himself off the couch and started for his room, then turned back and threw his arms around Lucy. “Then if I want, can I come sit on the couch again, like a sandwich?”
“You sure can.” Lucy kissed the top of his head. “You were a really strong pup today when Aaron needed you to be still. I know it hurt a lot.”
“It did,” Zane said.
“Sometimes after something hurts a lot, it helps me to sit with somebody.”
“Me too.” He scampered off, and he seemed more relaxed now than before he’d asked the question.
Jeremy shook his head. “I’m glad one of us is an expert at giving him words for stuff.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us is an expert at rough-housing his energy out.”
He smiled. His smile hadn’t changed since the day he turned in his essay ahead of her, then turned to meet her eyes for the first time. The lavender-haired version of herself who couldn’t stop staring at that smile and fumbled her own name could never have predicted the life she had now, but she wouldn’t trade a single minute.
Jeremy leaned in and kissed her, long and sweet and, after eight years, still a little teasing. When they ended the kiss, his grin spread wide.
“Remember that graphic design class we both just happened to take?”
“You know what, I do remember that.”
He rumbled a low laugh. “Fate sure knew what it was doing.”
“Funny,” Lucy said, leaning in for another kiss, “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Want to know why Jeremy calls Aaron “clueless”? Just read To Protect a Wolf , the first book in the series!