Eduard continued. Then he added, more softly. “He trusts you.”
The words meant a lot. Victor fought to keep his emotions in check. The fact that his cousin’s mate trusted him so completely was overwhelming. With all the changes happening in their world, the fact that Sawyer would let him in on such an incredible secret meant the world. “Thank you.”
“Okay, enough sentiment. Everything here is under control? You don’t need anything from me? Is the cottage satisfactory? We do have our bus in storage. It’s quite nice, and I’m happy to have it—”
“It’s fine, Eduard. Stop feeling guilty about this. I know how to use my words. If I didn’t want to stay here and help, I wouldn’t. I do have wings, if you recall. And it’s not like Nick isn’t mated to a hellhound. He could get me here to work as needed.”
Eduard huffed. “They’re not supposed to use their abilities that way.”
“And yet, Jedrek does whatever Nick asks, and so do the others.”
“Yeah. Everyone feels like Nick and the kids are an exception.”
“Whatever they need,” Victor said, echoing the statement Nick said daily with regards to the young members of his pack.
“Whatever they need. The trust funds will keep the property fully funded for… well, for a very long time, even if we continue the expansion process.”
Victor nodded his agreement. “And Sawyer told me not to worry about the budget for the construction. Nick doesn’t want anything crazy, anyway.”
“I wish there was more we could do,” Eduard added.
There wasn’t, though. They were doing everything they could already, and they all knew it.
After Eduard left to return home, Victor returned his attention to the laptop. Hours passed before he realized it, and the door to the office opened. The light had faded, and Riggs’s large form filled the entrance.
“You still working?”
Victor’s breath caught. He nodded instead of answering.
“Puteri found me. She said Nick wants us up there for dinner. Apparently, it’s spaghetti night.”
Victor gulped and glanced down at his pristine white dress shirt. “I’m… um… not hungry.”
Riggs snorted. “You think that’ll actually work? ’Cause I’m thinking it’ll just send Nick stomping down here to yell at you some more.”
“My cousin asked if there was anything I needed. He’ll be getting a bill for my wardrobe.”
Riggs laughed as Victor shut down the laptop and stood. “Your cousin was pretty fancy. I don’t think he’ll mind. Although I don’t think you should put that one tie on his bill.”
And then he winked.
And Victor’s heart skipped a beat. He scowled. “You remind me of that moments before I walk into a room filled with spaghetti-wielding children? And an extremely nosy alpha?”
Riggs didn’t seem sorry at all. If anything, his smile widened.
“You probably want to change shirts. You can borrow one of mine,” Riggs offered.
“Right. One, I would look like an idiot. I would swim in your shirt. Two, even if I didn’t look like an idiot, I am not letting that gossip get started.”
Riggs bit his lip and turned away, but not before Victor heard his rumbling chuckle.
They walked up the path to the entrance and waited until they were allowed to pass through the ward. They finished the walk to the rec hall in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. No, Victor could feel the warmth coming from Riggs, and the still present smile on Riggs’s face had him relaxing more and more.
The entire building smelled like an Italian restaurant. Even the volume of noise coming from the room they’d turned into a make-shift dining hall reminded Victor of his visits to Italy and some of the home-style restaurants they’d dined in. Nothing could beat the smell of tomato sauce that had cooked all day.
Of course, above all the enticing teases to his senses, one voice stood out above the rest.
“Bird!”
Victor found Gus easily in the crowded room, his red hair a beacon at the far wall where several high chairs were lined up next to each other. Gus beamed at him and waved his chubby little arm. Victor couldn’t resist heading toward the little guy. He’d left him earlier after their meeting, still sleeping as Puteri took him away for his afternoon nap. Victor’s emotions toward Gus confused him, and the earlier teasing from Eduard had only complicated matters. He ran his hand over Gus’s hair and earned himself another toothy grin.
“Bird!”
“You know I’m a griffin, Gus.”
“Fin.” Gus turned his attention toward Riggs. “Bear.”
“Hey, Gus. You being good?”
Gus raised his hands. “Up.”
“You need to stay—”
“Up, peas.”
Unlike Victor, Riggs had zero willpower.