Travis's Gift (Riley's Pride #3)- Sandra R Neeley Page 0,59

mouth to answer, but wasn’t sure how to answer. “Umm, I guess, maybe. I mean, we didn’t…”

“Doesn’t matter. Mating is stronger anyway. So he’s her husband, and she’s his wife,” Maia said, saving Libby from further unsure explanation.

“Libs!” Richie called out as he helped a very pregnant Yvette across the ground to where Libby and Maia stood.

“Hey, Richie! Hey, Yvette!” Libby said, waving excitedly at them.

“I can’t believe you two! Neither one of you could call to say you were official!” Richie said, patiently waiting for Yvette to decide she had the energy to walk the last few feet to where Libby stood.

“Here,” Maia said, hurrying to take one of the foldable chairs from the closest table and bringing it back to Yvette so she could sit.

“You are a very, very kind female,” Yvette said, slumping into the chair.

“No, just taking care of my bestie and my Pride,” Maia answered. “Besides, it really makes me tired watching you trying to walk from one place to another.”

Yvette chuckled despite her fatigue.

Richie, seeing that Yvette was comfortably settled in a chair, went directly to Libby for a hug. “Congrats, Libby. I know it’s a long time coming, but damn ya’ll look happy.”

“We are. It’s ridiculous how happy we are,” Libby agreed.

“Saw his mate mark as I walked up to the table and knew before I ever scented him,” Richie said. “Damn woman, you certainly made sure everybody would see that mark.”

“Delilah told me how to do it,” Libby confided.

“Well, yeah, then I can completely understand it. The woman does nothing half-assed,” Richie said.

“Can I paint now?!” Cristie asked, growing tired of the grownups visiting.

“I’ll take you,” Constance said, walking up and hugging Libby. “Congratulations, dear,” she said.

“Thank you,” Libby said, hugging Constance tightly. She’d grown close to Constance and loved her dearly.

“It’s good to see that smile on your face. It’s not for show, it’s real,” Constance said.

“It is,” Libby said.

“Ma’am, can you show us how to get the wire around the boughs to make the wreaths?” a woman said from an uneven pile of boughs at the wreath table. “I’m not having much success,” she admitted.

“Absolutely,” Libby answered, backing toward where the woman was sitting. “Ya’ll go have some fun, we’ll catch up later,” she said.

“I want to paint!” Cristie shouted, irritated that it had taken three separate times of her asking to be allowed to paint, when the paint was just right there.

“Come on then, let’s paint!” Constance said. Constance and Cristie found two seats next to each other and Constance waited while Cristie went through the baskets of wooden ornaments and decorations until she found exactly the right ones. She handed one to Constance and kept one for herself, then chose paint colors and then looked across the table to see what else she might want to add. She spied the different colored sequins and her eyes lit up. “I want it to be sparkly!” Cristie said excitedly.

Constance reached across the table and lifted the container of the multicolor sequins. She poured a small mound of them on the table in front of Cristie, then placed the container back in the middle of the table for anyone else who may want to use them. “There you go. I think if you paint the ornament, then place the sequins on the wet paint, they’ll stick.”

“Okay!” Cristie said excitedly, using the bottles of paint to squirt little splashes of color onto the Styrofoam plate she was using for her palette. She grabbed a paintbrush and got to work.

Moe stood back near the coffee, sipping on his first cup, watching Constance painting with Cristie. She was laughing, and completely engrossed in conversation with the child. It was moments like these that he realized just how special Constance was. Her heart was like no other woman he’d ever met. She was warm, and caring, and genuine. Didn’t matter who you were, if you needed, she was there for you. And if she loved you… you were loved with a love so powerful you would never feel alone again.

Richie stood there, watching Moe watch his mother. He walked up beside Moe and waited to be noticed. When it became clear that Moe was so lost in watching Constance that he’d never notice Richie, Richie patted him on the back. “You okay there, Moe?” he asked.

Moe looked at Richie, startled when Richie had placed his arm around his shoulders. “Richie! Hey! Yeah, I’m good. Real good.”

“Seeing some things developing between you and my mother,” Richie