disbelief has stolen my words.
Finn’s face screws up, and he darts a look between us. “Deek, lad, I was hoping we’d be talking about topics more fun than this. Good grief, man. This sounds like something I won’t like sticking my nose into. In fact, this is me refusing to get involved.” He backs away, taking off without giving Lucan a chance to expound on his question.
His surprise squeamishness makes me laugh.
As we rejoin the girls, it’s clear that Charlotte, Ginny, and even Maggie are way too aware. Of everything. I swear I feel Ginny and Charlotte giving us appraising looks. They suspect we did what we did, and as Lucan’s body stays close enough to brush mine, my pair of eldest look positively gleeful, looking a little creepy in the harsh glare of the floodlights, but they’re thrilled, not upset, so it’s a good thing.
When the kids are ready to file inside for the night, we say our goodbyes to others who won’t be joining us and head for Night Howl. We file in with everybody else who lives in this den, but Lucan murmurs that he’s a bit hungry, so we stop in the kitchen, which feels really strange to be in when it’s empty. Without it being full of jostling, starving werewolves, it also looks huge.
We all take seats at the giant trestle table, Maggie showing me her grass-stained knees, Charlotte and Ginny darting looks between Lucan and me, whispering.
He’s preparing a tray of food for us, and I wonder if he can hear what they’re saying. In fact, as I stop watching the girls and start looking Lucan over, I think the tops of his ears are turning pinker. He’s definitely beginning to sprout some additional hair. His face is turning shaggy with beard fur.
My direct attention catches his, and he glances at me, meeting my eyes long enough to send me a proud smile that makes my heart beat faster.
He brings the tray of meats and vegetables over for the girls and me to nibble on, and he makes something he refers to as a sandwich, but which is actually just half of the butt end of a baked cow, I swear. He takes a healthy bite of it as he moves to sit right beside me at the bench seat. He’s only in (hairy) human form long enough to pull a pickle off the pile and toss it back before Maggie erupts, “Deek! Is it true you and Mom are going to get married and have puppies?!” and he turns full wolf.
He sighs, there on the floor, caught in his shirt and pants while his prepared meal waits on his plate for him.
And to my surprise—maybe everyone’s surprise—with effort, he slowly transforms back into a man, only having to make minor adjustments to his clothes. He takes his seat, clears his throat, and leans forward, angling around me to stare Maggie dead in the eye… or shoulder, actually. “Your mom and I haven’t gotten to talk about it yet.”
Maggie is not deterred. “I want ones just like Liam.”
“Maggggie,” I chide.
“And if you can’t do that, I just want Liam,” she goes on.
“Maggie!” I warn sharply.
She turns wounded eyes on me. “What?”
“You’re making Lucan uncomfortable. Stop. It’s not polite.”
Maggie’s eyes dart to Lucan. “Did I do that?”
“Make me uncomfortable?” he asks. When she nods, he smiles off to the side of her face and holds up one big thumb and a forefinger. “A little bit.”
“And besides,” I add. “You can’t order sibling gender or… or ability. No one is in control of that,” I tell her.
“God is,” Lucan murmurs.
“Then I’m praying for puppies!” Maggie announces.
Lucan sits taller, moving his gaze as high as he can go on me until he’s looking at my throat. “I’m gonna stop helping.”
Ginny and Charlotte are being unnaturally quiet during this exchange, but they’re sitting together on the opposite end of the table, watching Lucan and me with nothing short of hawklike intensity.
Lucan has some trouble holding his fork, I realize, because his hands have mostly shifted to paws, but finishes the potato salad portion of his meal like a model citizen, only using his fingers and thumbs to punt his food onto the tines a few times. When he stays (primarily) human through the entire meal, I feel like he deserves a medal.
Without warning, Ginny sets her cup of cranberry juice down with a snap. “All right. We’ve given you two lots of uninterrupted time. Spill.”
“Yep,” Charlotte pipes in,