Dance Around - Susi Hawke Page 0,35

was God's way of rewarding bunny shifters for making us birth a freaking litter in one month's time. When you think about it, it's kind of ridiculous, yet completely miraculous. I never thought about it too much. It's normal for me. Now I feel bad for not giving you the heads up about my pregnancy. I could have prepared you for everything."

"Don't worry about it. Now I'll know for the next time—if there is another time, but you know what I mean. The next time I'm around a nesting bunny in general." Gil laughed at how hard I worked to make my statement clear, but I had learned my lesson. From now on, I would choose my words carefully and clarify, clarify, clarify.

With a guilty grin, I nodded toward the house. "Do you know how relieved I am? While we were snuggling our kittens, I was picturing the struggle of keeping a diaper on a shifting baby."

Gil started laughing again and didn't stop, even while I wrapped towels around us and we headed back inside. By the time we made it into the room, most everyone had shifted back.

After Gil explained the babies would shift to human and we wouldn't see them in this form again until they were older, my mom begged for photos first. Gil immediately agreed this was a necessity. Once Gil and I posed for more pictures than I could count, we had to step aside and let everyone else take snapshots with our babies.

Although four of them were hairless, I still thought of them as adorable little puffballs. When Gil finally announced the photo session was done with a relieved smile, he whispered in my ear what to do. I felt like the most powerful alpha in the world touching three fingertips to each of their foreheads, going down the row of kittens one baby at a time. My alpha pheromones flowed as I spoke with a voice of indisputable power, refusing to be disobeyed.

"Thank you for assisting this child with their journey into the world. I compel you to retreat until the human side is ready to meet you again."

Our firstborn kitten and the tiny puma who'd been born last were both males. Until they were older, we wouldn't know whether they were alphas or omegas, and I didn't care either way. My sons were equally valuable, no matter their distinction. Our three middle children were girls, which made Gil even happier than my mother, since females were rare in both families. As soon as our fifth child was officially a human boy, Gil rubbed his hands together.

"Now the fun begins. We have to name them."

Oh, hell. Picking one name was hard enough, but we had to come up with five? While Gil and I discussed ideas, my mother swooped in with several helpers to diaper and dress her new grandbabies. Thankfully, their cousins Theo and Iris had plenty of supplies to share until shopping could be done. Especially since Edgar had already started stockpiling supplies back at their place.

When he mentioned it, Gil looked embarrassed. "I'm the king of strategy, and I didn't think to buy baby supplies? Damn, my head truly wasn't on straight this last month, was it?"

Edgar flicked his brother on the arm. "It's okay, Gilligan. You had preggo brain, so I figured it was my time to step up and shine." He realized his mistake almost immediately, gasping in horror when my family buzzed, repeating Gil’s full name in questioning tones.

Looking at my brothers, I gave my head one single but firm shake. "No. You were not meant to know this information. Getting this man to agree to put up with me took twenty-three years. Don't you dare blow it for me now."

They looked tempted, but Dear was the first to nod. "Fine. But solely because Gil is my friend. And speaking as a friend, I feel it's fair to warn you I will be downloading the theme to a certain old TV show as soon as I get a moment with my phone. Gilligan's Island will be both of your ringtones."

Gil snorted and left it alone. "Anyway, what do you think if we pick B and M names in honor of our families?" He stopped and looked around the room. "And I better not hear any BM jokes from you bunch of overgrown adolescents."

Sacha looked puzzled, then giggled hysterically. "I get it! BM stands for bowel movement. Grandma calls it the same thing. I feel silly now. I