Make Your Wishes Come True
Nix wraps his arms around himself, and he feels a soft breeze blow like a caress through his hair.
It’s Grayson’s way of saying see you soon, after kissing Nix senseless.
One second, Nix’s soulmate is on the front porch, and the next, he’s beside the car, waving goodbye.
It might seem weird to other people, but it’s also so much a part of who Grayson is now that none of them can imagine what he would be like without these small but incredible shows of magic.
Rowan waves from the driver’s side window of the black ?koda Kodiaq (it had the highest safety rating Jamie could find, and he’d given up the Genesis easily before the girls made their grand entrance into the world).
The window is all the way down, so he can still hang his head out while he drives slowly away.
“Someday, we’re going to see him driving down the highway like that,” Gideon says with a sigh. He pushes Nix’s hair off his neck so he can kiss him there softly and breathe Nix in.
It causes a frisson of anticipation and desire to sizzle down Nix’s spine.
“I just wish it wasn’t with the kids in the car.” Sometimes Rowan’s wolf is too close to the surface for Nix’s peace of mind.
“They’re as safe as can be with Grayson on board, and you know Rowan would never risk them. Besides, it’s twenty minutes to the Costases’ place.”
Nix misses them all already.
“They’re going to have such a good time. Whose idea was the Frankenstein jumpy castle, do you think?”
They both say, “Lauren,” at the same time, followed by a chuckle.
“She promised it’s not too scary, but you never know. I think her bar for what’s frightening is really, really high.”
Gideon scoffs and throws an arm over Nix’s shoulders as the gate at the bottom of the drive opens to let the Kodiaq through. “I’m just glad I didn’t draw the short straw.”
“Why do you hate on what is the best time of the year?”
“It’s not Halloween that puts me off, Kitten. It’s the Wicked Witch of—”
Nix elbows Gideon gently in the side. “You shush. The kids will love it, and we get to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Be grateful.”
Lauren had insisted she didn’t need more than two of the children’s parents “harshing her vibe,” and that they could draw straws.
She and her mates could handle the children—and since that included Grandpa-Artem too, that meant a one-to-one grandparent-to-child ratio at the annual party the Costases threw for their law firm staff.
With a final wave that no one but Rowan sees, the wrought-iron gate swings closed, and Nix heaves a long sigh.
It’s not easy seeing his babies drive away without him, bent on their own fun.
“I’ll make sure you don’t miss them for too long.” There’s a sharp pinch to his butt as Gideon whispers in his ear, “Come on, help me make dinner.”
Tonight it’s just Gideon, Nix, and later, Finn.
Gideon had promised them a repeat of the pasta no one got to eat at Jamie’s birthday.
It had sat cold in the kitchen while they’d eaten their first course off of Luca, naked and shivering with arousal on the dining room table (Gideon had dubbed it a char-CUTE-erie).
Once in the kitchen, Gideon sets out flour and eggs, and the hand-cranked pasta maker. This pasta is a staple at Ruckus, where patrons of all ages can find it cut into tiny shapes, like fish or stars, for the children and anyone else who can’t resist the delicious whimsy.
“Do you want to turn my crank or mix the dough?” Gideon asks, while he waggles his eyebrows lasciviously.
“Neither. I’m going to finish up my surprise for you and Finn.”
“You know Finn’s not really into Halloween.”
It was true that Dr. Merritt could cut a person open and remove real entrails, but pretend ones were off the table.
“Ha ha. Nothing scary, besides it’s really more of a roleplay, and I know he likes that just fine.” It’s Nix’s turn to waggle his eyebrows and hop down from the counter so he can pinch Gideon’s butt.
His ears might be pink, but he smells like a humid summer rainstorm—all anticipation and electricity. “Who are we tonight?”
“It’s a surprise. Finn’s at work late, so for the first part it’s just you and me, hot stuff.
Your costume is hanging in your room.” Nix skips out, grabbing the last square box, delivered just in time, and heads up the stairs to the right wing.
He had Grayson help him set everything up before he left.
He’d been a bit bitter about being left out of such a romantic-looking play, but the kids had quickly distracted him with their costume parade.
Nix pulls out his phone to look at the kids’ costumes one more time. He’s rather proud of them, actually.
Mari is a tiny secret agent, à la Lauren. Her serious face held in place for the very short time it took for Nix to snap a million pictures, before she’d devolved into giggles and parkour’d from couch to table to straight-up climbing Rowan.
Her much more subdued sister had chosen the cutest, fluffiest little white chicken. Rosie doesn’t have many words yet, unlike her sister, but she has a very enthusiastic bok-bok-bok.
However, it’s when she makes the little chicken head on the top do the same that Nix thinks she is most like Grayson. It’s pure inherited magic, evident at a very young age—unpredictable and intermittent. It’s crazy to think that they’re two years old now and are quickly becoming their own people.
The next series of twenty photos in his gallery of thousands is of CJ.
Just shy of five months old, and already a snuggle bug.
He won’t spend one minute on his own, preferring to be passed from adult to adult until he can start the cycle all over again.
Nix had surprised Rowan with a tiny red furry wolf costume for the baby, and the alpha might have shed a tear or two before shifting into Rowan-wolf in a futile attempt to avoid the ribbing from the others.
The pièce de résistance, however, had been the tiny chef costume Skye had chosen, after showing Nix what he wanted while watching Ratatouille one family movie night. The five-year-old had made the connection from the chefs in the film to Gideon.
When it had arrived, he insisted on wearing it immediately.
The pack hadn’t heard so many words from him in the whole time he’d been with them.
Most of the words had sounded remarkably like Gideon’s, with some slamming of plastic pots and dishes in their play-kitchen, cursing thankless customers and day-old fish.
The look on Gideon’s face had been priceless: an expression of wet-eyed shock and pink-cheeked pride-slash-embarrassment.
Nix swipes through the photos one last time before queuing up the mood music where he’s been putting the finishing touches on the décor.
This is the pack’s heat/rut room now, as the newer family pack nest had been moved downstairs to the old studio.
No one had felt comfortable ejecting their kids from their comfort zone when someone headed into their cycle.
Going forward, they’ll need their own space, and Nix has seen the plans for the new children’s wing Grayson had been working on in his not-so-spare time. It looks perfect for their growing needs when the family nest is no longer where they want to be.
Nix shakes himself out of his family-love-reminiscing-stupor and adjusts the last few sheer scarves over the low light lamps.
It looks exactly how he imagined when he’d dreamed this up.
With a happy wiggle, Nix sends a text to Finn.
He’s already feeling interested, his dick hard in his blue shorts.
He’s not had a Gideon-Nix-Finn night in ages, but there are at least two more hours left in Finn’s lecture at the University, and that’s only if one of his students doesn’t need him afterwards.
Of course, that won’t stop Nix from encouraging him to get his very nice butt home, ASAP.
5:07 PM Nix
Hey sexy
We are waiting for you
Wanna see what’s for dinner? *smirk emoji*
The response is surprisingly prompt for someone who is supposed to be speaking to a room full of med students.
5:08 PM Finn
Yes
I am starving *knife and fork emoji*
Chuckling, Nix rolls into the nest on his side, laying his cheek on the soft velvet cushions he’d added for ambiance.
The scarves add an ethereal pink glow to the room, turning their everyday nest into something magical.
Opening the selfie part of the phone, he takes a few tame pictures—a pout, a sexy smirk, finally settling on one with a sultry glance with just a little tongue visible between his parted lips.
Grinning with anticipation of Finn’s response, he types out his teasing message.
5:11 PM Nix
Like it?
The three thinking dots at the bottom of the text appear and disappear three times before something finally pops up.
5:14 PM Finn
I’m supposed to be teaching
You can’t do this to me right now *sweating, tongue out emoji*
5:14 PM Nix
Challenge accepted *kissy lips*
Finn, of all people, should know better than that. Really. Giggling, Nix leaves any more texts from his hot doctor on read and skips down the stairs to find Gideon plating their dinner.
“What did you do that made you look like the cat who got the cream, Kitten?” He places the perfectly plated pasta on the two blue-turquoise silk ombre placemats on the breakfast bar.
There’s white grape juice instead of wine in crystal goblets—the only choice, as Gideon is a stickler for sober play.
A slow burn begins in Nix’s belly at the idea that his mate has been thinking about after-dinner fun, sending a shiver down his spine.
“I was texting Dr. Merritt.”
Gideon chuckles and twirls some fettuccine on his fork before offering it to Nix. The flavors burst on his tongue, creamy and garlicky in the best way. There are bits of porchetta and toasted walnuts for a nutty flavor.
“Mmm. So good,” Nix groans extra salaciously, licking a stray drop of white sauce from his lips and rolling his eyes back in his head.
“Kitten,” Gideon shakes his head and stops his fork on the path to his own mouth. “You keep that up, and you’ll not have time for your roleplay before I bend you over this countertop.”
Nix thinks it might be worth it, because that sounds really, really good, but he’s had his own plans for tonight since Grayson and Rowan volunteered for the Halloween party duty.
“Tempting as that is—and it really is—I have other plans.”
“Then eat, so I can clean up and put on whatever is in that garment bag you left in my room,” Gideon smirks and begins shoveling food into his mouth with a focus that reminds Nix of Rowan.
“Did you leave something for Finn when he comes home?” Gideon asks, taking a sip of his grape juice, unable to hide the grimace.
“He won’t need anything extra for his part,” Nix says around a mouthful of pasta—ugh, how is it so good? “Besides, he won’t want to take time to eat… food, anyway.”
Nix pauses to let that sink in, exchanging his fork for his goblet, and he innocently sips his grape juice while waiting for Gideon to meet his eyes.
For the second time, Gideon stops the fork halfway to his mouth, the food suspended, and a long stray noodle slips off his fork.
Nix doesn’t have to wait long for his mate’s reaction, gently placing his fork on the edge of his plate.
There’s an infinitesimal tensing of his sexy arms and a clenching of his jaw.
Before Gideon can pounce, though, Nix makes a break for the stairs, cackling the entire way.
When he doesn’t hear the alpha giving chase—he can’t decide if he’s happy or disappointed—Nix pops his head over the balcony wall to see Gideon standing, arms crossed, chin tilted up like he knew Nix would eventually come looking.
“You have forty minutes, Kitten,” he says, pointing his finger in Nix’s direction. “Better move that sweet ass.”