Ready or Knot (Knotted Paths #1) - Susi Hawke Page 0,46

with Vasily in the corner, slipped by with a wink. “I’ll keep an eye on the two of them. Make sure Shelby doesn’t hear anything she regrets later.”

Jordan gave him a look of relief.

Louisa shook her head. “I don’t know why you all are so worried. Francis seems like a perfect gentleman.”

“Mom, you did hear Shelby ask him if—” Jordan stopped midsentence. “You just don’t ask a man like him anything you want.”

Louisa waved a dismissive hand. “But Shelby’s harmless.”

“No one who wields a pen, or a keyboard, should ever be considered completely harmless, Louisa. But in this case, we are all friends. Do you drink wine?” From anyone else, the change of subject would have seemed abrupt, but Dante switched as smoothly as if he changed directions in a dance.

“Oh, I don’t mind the occasional glass now and then.”

“Then come. You must try this glorious Malbec I found for the boys. Well, I say for the boys, but we’ll see if there is any remaining after the party.”

That left Jordan and I standing alone, until Vasily joined us.

“Never a dull moment, eh, boys?”

“Certainly not with Shelby,” Jordan said.

Vasily laughed. “Not with Pops either.”

“Where are the kids tonight?” I asked. “I was hoping to see them.”

“The cousins wanted a sleepover. They don’t see each other as much now that they’re in different schools, you know. Not like when Pablo was watching over all of them.”

“I miss him. Does he visit at all now?”

“Who’s Pavlo?” Jordan asked.

“He’s my cousin, another Stanislav stray the Novaks rescued.”

“Hey, don’t be calling yourselves strays. You were the golden apples out of a rotten bushel. If pulling you out of that mess is rescuing, sure. But you aren’t strays. Both of you as shy as feral cubs, though. No lie about that.”

Jordan wrapped an arm around my waist. “What happened to him?”

“Same as Wyatt here.” Vasily grinned. “Got mated up. Of course, he’s got his hands a bit fuller with his mate’s crazy-ass vigilantes... But those aren’t stories fit for tonight. I’ll tell you sometime, though. When we have vodka.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jordan said.

There was a knock on the front door, and Jordan went to open it. Dante’s twin, Nacho, peeked in. “Hey, Vas, you ready for everything yet?”

“What’s everything?” I asked.

Vasily went to put on his boots. “Let’s bring it all in. Pops, Dante! Nacho’s here.”

Dante and Louisa came giggling from the kitchen with matching full glasses of red wine. Dante pressed his into Jordan’s hands. “You two go sit on the couch while we bring everything in. And don’t spill the wine.”

And then began a parade of presents. Big presents, little presents. Wrapped in gift wrap, wrapped in brown paper, placed in bags.

“What’s all this? Don, Dante—you’ve already given us so much!”

“Those aren’t from us, lobito. They’re from the rest of the family.”

Nacho set a bag full of bags in front of me. “Si, River and Dante were ready to throw down with Vasily’s brothers. They all wanted to come, but can you imagine that many Novaks in this small space?”

I shuddered. While I was learning to manage my panic attacks, part of managing them right now was avoiding triggering them. And even though the Novaks were familiar, an overload of alphas in a small room was definitely on my list of possible triggers.

“And last but not least...” Vasily backed into the house, blocking my view of what he carried.

Jordan quirked his head to the side. “Mom—“

Louisa nodded. “That’s the bassinet I used for both you and Shelby. I know it might not match everything else, and it’s not very portable. I won’t be offended if you don’t want it. But if you do...”

I brushed my fingers over the old, smooth wood. It had a rocker bottom, and the painted scrolls and flowers that had decorated the outside had faded with time.

But this had held Jordan as a baby. It had held history.

My childhood home had been full of history. Things that my great-great-grandparents had used when they were young. It was a history I would never recover.

I looked up into Louisa’s cautiously hopeful face, and went to give her a hug. “I love it. Thank you.”

Dante arranged the presents in front of the couch. “Okay, familia, don’t turn on the tears yet. We have plenty of presents to get through.”

“The faster you open them, the faster I can get back to asking Don Francis more questions,” Shelby asked.

“Then I’ll make sure we go really, really slowly,” I teased her, wiping my eyes.

She