Page 17 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

SEVENTEEN

TREYTON

“Everything looks so beautiful. Thank you, Grandpa. And the same to you, Rudy.”

The pair had gone all out with the decorations, seating, flowers, and the food. Just like with Hunter’s wedding, Grandpa didn’t cater because I wanted him to enjoy the day. He just marshaled everyone and texted them a hundred times a day with instructions.

We were at Flint and Tony’s house, the huge mansion with the large manicured grounds where Flint and his brothers had lived with their folks. My dad, Shawn, remembered family dinners at this place when he was growing up, along with his brother, Gale, who was also here today.

Brock and I had been in an immediate family bubble since my parents and Niles arrived.

We showed Niles the sights, and my fathers tagged along because they wanted to get to know Brock’s dad and spend time with us.

And I was glad we did because Niles and my parents lived in the same town.

Though my alpha father, Shawn, had met Niles at the library previously, they were now family.

Niles had been uncertain about coming but wanted to be at the wedding.

While Gale and his mate were staying with Grandpa and Rudy, my folks and Brock’s dad were in the apartment where Brock had discovered his father’s photo.

Flint had asked Niles if he wanted the photo, and he accepted it, saying he only had one pic of Emilio.

Brock was stressed because it was a balancing act where everyone welcomed Niles as Brock’s dad, but didn’t want to mention the circumstances of Emilio’s death. He’d have to tell Niles at some point, but we agreed, our wedding wasn’t the best time and place to devastate his father.

Flint and Tony had let us stay in their guest house, and when we weren’t sightseeing, we’d all been swimming in the large pool and sunning ourselves.

Rudy and Grandpa had refused to let us help with the wedding arrangements.

I’d worried Niles would feel left out, but he was happy to be with me and Brock and enjoy the day like the rest of us.

He admitted he was pleased not to be doing all the work, and my mate and I agreed.

We’d flipped the order of a traditional wedding ceremony and reception. The food would be laid out, and we’d be able to graze before we said our I-do’s. Brock had been to a lot of weddings, and he said the guests were often hungry while waiting for the photos or their transportation.

“Let people eat, and after we’re married, they can eat some more.”

“Here’s the cake now!” Grandpa had been haranguing the baker because the cake should have been delivered this morning.

I left him to speak with my parents who were pointing at dark clouds on the horizon.

“The weather forecast said it would be sunny with no chance of rain,” my alpha dad noted.

“Fingers crossed we get finished before it pours.”

Madd had just flown in and would leave again tomorrow. Whatever he was doing for Flint, he didn’t share it, and I was fine with that.

“Today’s the day. Wasn’t sure I’d make it.”

“Glad you did.”

A loud shriek from Grandpa had my dads and me running over to him. He was staring at the cake that had just been unloaded. From a distance it looked a little different to the images Brock and I had chosen.

“Is this a joke?” Grandpa’s mouth was set in a hard line, and he was glaring at me, my dads, and Uncle Gale who’d just arrived.

I held up my hands in surrender, pleased I’d taken no part in the arrangements. This was our wedding day. There were no practical jokes allowed, and Ranger had been warned. But the man himself had just strolled out of the house with his jacket slung over one shoulder. Everyone swirled toward him.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

Grandpa jabbed a finger toward the offending cake. The inscription read, “Good Boy. Your training is complete.” There were pawprints, dog bones, and a little plastic fire hydrant on top. While Grandpa was fuming and his face was getting more red by the second, the rest of us burst out laughing.

Ranger guffawed and said it was nothing to do with him.

“It’s okay, Grandpa. Brock and I will remember this cake and how it amused all the guests.” I hoped my mate would agree.

“What’s going on?” Brock appeared at my shoulder, looking very smart in a gray suit with no tie. Niles was with him.

“Ta-da.” I put an arm around his waist. If he was upset, I’d race out and get something more appropriate and Grandpa could decorate it. I refused to have a cake ruin his day. “There’s been a mix-up.”

My mate and his dad leaned over the cake. Brock giggled. “Is this a Durand family tradition?” He glanced around. “Is the dog supposed to be a wolf?”

“No!” Our wolves would never pee on a fire hydrant, or so they told us.

Flint wandered out of the house with Tony beside him.

Their kids raced up to the cake and their cousins followed.

They surrounded the cake, and Lottie read out the inscription.

They all clamored for the candied dog bones, and after getting the okay from their parents, we picked them off the cake.

There were just the right number bones for the kids which made me wonder if this really had been a mix-up

“I love that we’re doing this wedding our way.” Brock kissed me. “Many of the weddings I’ve been to would have been ruined by the wrong cake or kids wanting to eat the edible cake toppers.”

My cousins’ kids loved the bones and wanted more, but unless another cake was being delivered, that was it. There was a minor tantrum from Storm, and while we were trying to entertain the kids or offer them something to eat, there was a huge crack of thunder.

That was the only warning before rain pelted down.

Shit. The food, the cake. Oh my gods, Grandpa would be frantic. Brock’s hair was already stuck to his face as he grabbed platters of food, and Rudy herded his grandchildren inside. But they did an about-turn and turned their faces upward.

“I’ve got the cake,” Hunter yelled.

The flowers from Flint’s garden were bedraggled and most of the food was sodden. All of Grandpa’s and Rudy’s planning was for nothing. It had literally gone down the drain.

I squelched through the soggy grass, as the kids refused to leave, and jumped in puddles. They squealed and ran up and down the drive trying to splash each other.

Flint was standing in the front door issuing instructions. “There are spare clothes in the basement if anyone wants to change.” They’d been planning on giving them to charity.

“Will you lock us down there and say you have to weigh up whether to k-i-l-l us?” Hunter sniggered.

Flint rolled his eyes at his youngest brother’s reference to him putting Tony there. “You’re hilarious.”

“I don’t get it,” Niles said to Brock in a low voice.

“It’s silly. Just a family joke.” I didn’t want that story coming out or Niles might head to the airport.

“I’m sorry about the food and the flowers and everything.” I took Brock’s hand and wiped raindrops off his cheeks.

“Actually, we’ll look back on this day and laugh.”

“We can go back to the guest house and change.”

But Rudy overheard me and said there were plenty of clothes for everyone, and as we wandered down the stairs, we passed Hunter in too-tight red pants and an oversized T-shirt.

The rest of the family were in mismatched clothes that included dressing gowns, PJs, shorts and T-shirts, a paternity shirt, and pants that had to be rolled up.

We made fun of Ranger in a vest and a pair of swim trunks.

Brock was right. No one would ever forget our wedding, and we snapped pics as keepsakes.

“I’m hungry, Grandpa.” Kendric tugged at Rudy’s tux.

“We have eggs, smoked salmon, and bread.” My grandpa was already in the kitchen.

“Sounds like a feast,” I told him.

“Flint, Ranger, Hunter, get in here,” Grandpa yelled. If Flint was annoyed at being given orders, he didn’t show it. “We’re going to make scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and toast. Plus we have enough milk for pancakes.”

Grandpa gave Brock an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

My mate hugged him. “It’s going to be delicious. How can we help?”

Grandpa said we needed a conveyor belt of people. The kids were being hustled into the den, so Grandpa told Rudy and Niles they were making toast.

“I can do that.” Rudy was overconfident and set the toaster to a high heat until Niles lowered it.

Madd was cracking eggs and complaining to Flint about having no food in the house. But our cousin responded that there was supposed to be leftovers. “But most of it is now waterlogged.”

Grandpa was cooking the eggs while Flint and Hunter were arguing about how much milk to add in the pancakes. Gale and his mate set the table, and Ranger searched for cream cheese and capers that Grandpa said we had to have, while my folks cut up fruit.

The kids charged out of the den and got under the large dining room table, pretending they were hiding from dinosaurs.

Matt and Odell picked flowers from the garden that were sprinkled with raindrops while Tony collapsed in an armchair and the kids ran around him until they were so dizzy they collapsed.

Everyone was talking at once, but we were all together.

“Your family’s doing this for us.” Brock adjusted the gas flame as we readied to cook the pancakes. “The house is full of love, and that’s how a wedding should be.”

“They’re your family now too.”

“Ready for the flip.” Brock gripped the cast-iron saucepan.

“Can he do it?” Ranger yelled.

“Yes he can,” everyone chanted. “Yes he can.”

My mate did the perfect flip, and it was like those comedies where the pancake seemed to rise and turn over in slow motion.

When we sat down, Hunter and Madd opened champagne and poured the adults a glass. Everyone toasted us before we tucked in.

“Do we cut the cake now or after the ceremony?” Grandpa asked

“Why don’t we do them at the same time?” Brock suggested.

Flint was marrying us, and the three of us stood. I wrapped an arm around Brock and inhaled his intoxicating scent. Gods, I adored this human.

“The bond between mates is not just love, though there's plenty of that.” Flint spoke from memory. “It’s commitment and recognition of the moment when you find your other half. The bond says, 'There you are. I've been waiting for you.’”

Brock reached out to his dad who had to be reliving painful memories and drew him close. The three of us stood together, arms around one another

“Treyton and Brock, you’ve already marked one another and that’s the promise that matters most. Today is… well, the icing on the cake.” He eyed the concoction we were about to cut.

Everyone groaned at the terrible joke.

“When the zombies appear, I’ll fight them off with my plastic sword,” Brock promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’ll always patch up your wounds.”

Niles gave us both a “What the F?” look, but Flint quickly pronounced us married, and we cut the cake. Everyone cheered, but the cheering veered into howling. The humans in the room howled too and even Niles managed a tiny purr. But Brock matched me, decibel for decibel as we fed one another cake.

After everyone had eaten their share of cake and gave it a thumbs-up, we danced to music from someone’s phone, and Arnie made coffee.

“Any regrets?” Brock and I were slow dancing around Flint’s huge living room. Before I could answer, he mentioned we’d forgotten the rings. Damn. I pulled the one out I’d had made for Brock, and my mate did the same with my ring, and we put them on.

“Now that’s done, I have just one regret.” I pulled him closer. “That it took us so long to get here.”