Chapter Twelve
Tripp
The wedding was in two days, and Dray was far less nervous than him in some ways, more in others. He couldn’t care less about the wedding. His nerves were focused solely on—the doorbell rang. Lowe. His omega father.
Tripp jogged to the front door and swung it open to greet a slight little male with dark sunglasses, a manbun, and a pink cropped top over low-hung worn leather pants that he was probably a good fifteen years too old to be wearing.
Not that he looked bad in them but in the you’ve outgrown this sort of display sort of way.
His goofy little sunglasses hung low on his nose as he threw his arms open and hugged Tripp unnecessarily long. “Tripp! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Really?” Tripp froze in place as Dray came shuffling in, a frown twisting his pretty face.
“No. But you have to be halfway decent if you mated my boy. So, tell me more about youuuuu.” Lowe waved a hand around and explored the apartment uninvited, going straight for the fridge where he popped open a bottle of apple juice and drank…straight from the jug.
Dray and Tripp exchanged an exhausted stare.
“So, I couldn’t afford a hotel room, and I’ll be crashing with—”
“What happened to the money I sent you?” Dray sighed heavily.
“I have bills. Take it where you can get it, babe.” Lowe took the whole bottle to the living room, where he flopped on the couch and stared around at the décor. “Where’d you get the inspiration for this getup? A bottle of antidepressants?”
Dray gave Tripp a see, I’m not the only one who thought that glare.
Tripp gave him a now I know where you get it from expression in exchange.
Lowe’s nails, recently done, tapped out a rhythm on the bottle as he threw his feet up on the coffee table. “Also, holy shit, babe, I knew you said there was a baby on the way, but I didn’t know you were fuck-all far along!”
“Yes, Dad, I’m almost eight months.” Dray sighed heavily. They’d pushed things way too far out, and it was tiring to do much more than walk around. But, their little one wouldn’t be born a bastard, at least.
“Could have told me sooner. I’m not old enough to be a grandpa! I’m only thirty-nine.” Lowe huffed, and Tripp glanced over, brows raised. Dray nodded to confirm.
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.” Dray found one of the side chairs and sat in it, spreading out with a deep sigh that appeared to sink into his very core. The prominent bump under his shirt wiggled a bit as if their little one needed situating, too.
“Also, you’re huge. I never got that big.” Lowe sniffed and sipped from the jug again. “I can give you this neat diet thing I did—”
“I’m doing what the midwife told me was healthy. I’ll worry about how I look after.”
“If you want to keep your maaaaaaan,” Lowe singsonged.
Tripp understood, deeply so, why Dray didn’t get along with his father.
“I’m not concerned about his weight, his figure, his skin, or anything like that,” Tripp said, strolling over to sit on the arm of Dray’s chair. “I love him.”
Lowe snorted into his apple juice and laughed. “Honey, all alphas say that, but wait until he’s three months postpartum, not feeling like riding a knot, and—”
“My dad was canid?” Dray’s eyes widened.
“Probably. I have a thing for the woofies. But anyway!” Lowe winked at Tripp. “Snakes are good, too. Packin’ that hemi—”
Dray hissed angrily. “Stop, Dad.”
“Fine, fine!” Lowe waved his hand. “Point is, get fit quick after and learn not to say no.”
“Ew.” Tripp’s face twisted. “No, sir. Dray waits until he’s ready. He does what the doctors say. We wait until he’s ready, and understand that I love him for his mind, not his body.”
“Well, you’d have to, what with all those piercings and tatts.” Lowe dug into the bag on his hip, popped out a little bottle of vodka, and poured it in the juice before throwing it back with a long chug.
Dray and Tripp gave one another the look again.
“Lowe, I understand you’re my new father-in-law, and that Dray loves you in his own way.
There’s respect there for how hard it was to raise him so young and alone.
” Tripp scratched the back of his head anxiously.
“But if you’d like to use my spare bedroom, please be nice to Tripp.
He’s pregnant, it’s his wedding, and he’s not smiling right now.
I love his smile more than anything, and you are taking that away. ”
Dray shifted his fangs a bit and grinned up at Tripp with a menacing stretch of his lips. “Even when you do that.”
“Gag.” Lowe snorted and capped the empty apple juice bottle. Dray had been craving it nonstop, and it reminded him to go check the pantry to make sure he had another bottle for the fridge. As he stepped away, Dray gave him a don’t leave me look that he ignored.
While in the kitchen, he heard a muttered, “Nice ass on that one. His dick game good?”
Tripp stifled a laugh and could imagine Dray rubbing his nose bridge in frustration. “Great ass, yes, and the dick is very good, Dad.”
“Excellent.”
“And could you please behave?” The wheedling tone in Dray’s voice made Tripp’s alpha instincts to dote on him well up.
So, he continued his checking of the pantry and grumbled in frustration before spying a bottle shoved behind some of the broths that Dray had gone through a phase with.
Thank the gods. He shoved it in the fridge and added a note to his phone to buy more.
“Fuck, no. I’ll behave at the wedding, but here? Nah. Alpha needs to know what he’s getting his ass into.” Lowe huffed, and Tripp poured a glass of apple juice and added some ice cubes to cool it down. When he returned, Dray stared at him as if he hung the moon.
“Mmfuck, you’re the best,” Dray said, reaching out for the glass for a long chug—the family resemblance was uncanny.
Lowe watched them with a sidelong gaze, no more snark in his voice as he spoke. “So, how did you two meet, really?”
Tripp’s face burned.
“He got a tattoo from me,” Dray said, his voice shaking the tiniest bit.
“Liar.” Lowe put his feet flat on the floor and sat up, fingers folded. “If I know you, it was a one-night stand gone bad. That’s the only reason you’d keep it from me so long. You know I’d tease the shit out of you.”
Tripp said exactly nothing. His mouth was zipped. Lungs gripped. Mind tripped. He was gone, brain checked out.
“Yeah, the alpha over there says it all. Poor schmuck.” Lowe kicked his legs as he laughed. “Ahh, an innocent. Okay, you have Papa’s approval.”
“So, you did get a hotel room, right?” Dray grinned hopefully.
“Of course, the fuck, not.” Lowe dug in his pocket and handed over a clip of money to Dray. “I’m going to stay a few days with my baby while I can.”
Dray counted it. “It’s all here. I paid for your plane ticket.”
“Yeah? I can pay for a ticket to my baby’s wedding. Besides, I drove up. I packed all my shit—”
“You’re not moving in with me!” Dray sat up straight.
“And listen to you two have all the sex I’m not having?” Lowe scoffed. “No, I got a job at one of the escort clubs in town.”
“You’re sleeping with rich old men for money?” Dray stared him down.
“No!” Lowe huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s an escort service for old rich women.”
“Dad!” Dray’s voice reached a pitch that made Tripp flinch.
“Oh, relax. I just go keep them company a bit, maybe take them out, let them pinch me a little, and that’s it.
Sometimes I’ll have to clean. Sex isn’t even on the menu.
I just go to the country club or nice restaurant or some shit and let them pretend they’re fucking me.
” Lowe messed with his phone for a moment and snorted.
“After a lifetime of being disappointed by straight men, I’m a breath of fresh air. Emotional prostitution.”
Tripp nodded sagely. “An honorable profession.”
“I think so, at least. He gets it.” Lowe gestured at Tripp. “I like him.”
“You would.” Dray crossed his arms.
“Welp! I’m going to go take an unnecessarily long shower, get ready, and you’re going to take me out somewhere expensive. I’m thinking Olive Garden.” Lowe crossed his legs. “By the by, Tripp Wells, right?”
Tripp nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Your parents own Gilded Scales?” Lowe raised an eyebrow.
“His dad isn’t single.” Dray stuck his tongue out.
“Ew. He’s a beta. No. Fucking eight minutes of sweaty missionary and a thank-you after?
” Lowe stared at his phone as his thumbs rolled.
“Also, don’t shit where you eat. Don’t fuck your coworkers, your friends’ exes, coworkers’ exes, or relatives of your friends.
Or friends of your relatives. Also, never anyone involved with someone. ”
Tripp desperately wished he didn’t hear that.
“No, I just want to talk to Ian Wells.” Lowe’s thumbs flew on his screen.
“Why?” Dray paled a little.
“If I’m going to be toting around old biddies pretending to be on dates, I’d like to play a few holes and not the fun ones.
Having an in with the owner would be nice.
Also, I just want to clear it with him and staff so I can pop in with different clients without talk and make the experience more comfortable. ” Apparently, Lowe could be thoughtful.
Tripp sighed raggedly. “As long as it’s professional.”
“Nothing but. I don’t shit where I eat.” Lowe made finger guns at Tripp before diving back into his phone. “Oh, and, Tripp? Thanks for making sure my baby got what I never did.”
Tripp had a feeling things were going to be very interesting.