23. Gabriella
Gabriella
I am so full I might actually die.
And I regret nothing.
We’ve eaten an obscene amount of barbecue. Burgers, ribs, chicken, grilled corn, potato salad, baked beans, and something Wreck called his secret recipe mac and cheese until Gia informed us his secret recipe came from a box and he’d added extra cheese.
Apparently, that still counted as cooking in Wreck’s world.
Then we sang “Happy Birthday” to Gia and moved on to cake.
And holy fuck, the cake.
I take another bite and close my eyes.
“This is ridiculous.”
Justin looks over the rim of his coffee mug. “What is?”
“This cake.”
He frowns like I’ve offended him.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem.” I point my fork accusingly at the enormous slice of chocolate heaven sitting on my plate. “This might be the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten.”
Justin shrugs.
“Thanks.”
“Wait—you made it?”
I’m stunned.
“I bake.”
He shrugs again, and I just stare at the enormous, broody Dragon Shifter.
“You bake.”
“Yes.”
“Like... regularly?”
His eyes narrow.
“Is that a problem?”
“Nope. Just recalibrating my worldview.”
Rowan snorts beside me. Justin flips him off.
“Uncle Sparky! You need to put a dollar in the swear jar!”
Matteo’s scandalized voice cuts through the clearing. Justin slowly lowers his middle finger.
“Sorry.”
I nearly choke on my cake. Rowan pounds me helpfully on the back while laughing his ass off.
“See?” he says. “Kid's already improving the place.”
“My son is not here to rehabilitate your language.”
“Too late, Honey Girl.”
I turn my head.
Big mistake.
Because Rowan is right there.
And he’s close.
Too close for my rapidly deteriorating self-control.
His blond hair is pulled up into a topknot that somehow looks ridiculously sexy on him.
Those swirling tattoos make my fingers itch to trace them.
They disappear beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt, and I sigh, impatient to take it off him.
Firelight catches the sharp planes of his face and turns those golden eyes almost molten.
Jesus.
This is one good looking man.
His gaze drops to my mouth. My stomach flips.
The matebond warms between us.
There.
That strange, beautiful firelight sensation I've been increasingly aware of since last night. His thigh presses against mine beneath the table.
Not accidentally.
Definitely not accidentally.
I take another bite of cake. His eyes follow the fork.
Oh. Oh, no.
I know that look.
“Stop.”
“Didn't do anything.”
“You're doing kissing eyes.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Not you too.”
Matteo overhears us.
“See! I told you!”
Everyone laughs. Rowan mutters something under his breath.
“What was that?” I ask sweetly.
“Nothing, Honey Girl.”
“That’s what I thought.”
His hand disappears beneath the table and lands high on my thigh. It’s hotter than I expect, and I changed into shorts a little while ago, so when I say his hand is on my thigh—I mean on my bare thigh.
And his fingers are slowly drawing circles on my skin, moving higher and higher. Closer to where I want him, if I’m being honest.
Which I’m not.
I suck in a breath so fast I nearly inhale a mouthful of chocolate cake.
Asshole.
I glare at him.
He takes a completely innocent sip of his beer.
Yeah. Right.
After everything we ate, nobody seems capable of moving far, so we stay gathered around the big outdoor table beneath the strings of lights.
Wreck has a beer. Rowan does too. Justin switched to coffee after dinner.
I've got tea because I need something to cut through the sugar overload.
Gia is sipping sparkling apple cider from a champagne flute because she says if she has to spend her birthday pregnant and sober, she's at least drinking out of fancy glassware.
Matteo has cider too—in a plastic cup. Because I'm not an idiot.
The fire crackles nearby. Cool mountain air brushes against my cheeks, carrying woodsmoke and pine. And for a little while, I just sit there.
Watching.
Listening.
Gia is laughing.
Wreck is pretending he isn't watching every single move his pregnant mate makes.
Justin is fake-arguing with Matteo about whether a Dragon could beat a T-Rex.
Rowan's thumb is still tracing lazy circles against my thigh beneath the table.
This feels good. Regular.
Blissfully normal.
And that might be the strangest part.
I can't remember the last time I sat around a table like this without some part of me watching the door.
Waiting.
Planning.
Calculating how quickly I could grab Matteo and run.
Tonight, my weekender bag is sitting inside Rowan's cabin. Matteo's dinosaur backpack is beside it. And I'm surrounded by three of the most dangerous Alpha Shifters I've ever encountered.
Yet somehow? I feel safe.
My gaze drifts to Rowan. He catches me looking.
Of course he does.
His eyebrow rises.
What?
I shake my head.
Nothing.
His eyes narrow. He doesn't believe me.
Then his fingers tighten around my thigh. The matebond tingles. Heats. And my heart does something dangerously close to turning over completely.
At some point, the conversation gets quieter. More personal.
Wreck pushes his chair back and stands. Gia looks up at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Hush up and let me talk.”
Her mouth drops open.
“Wow. Romance.”
“I had something planned.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He clears his throat. We all go still and quiet.
Well, almost all of us.
Matteo continues eating frosting off his fork.
Wreck looks down at Gia, and the change in his expression is immediate. The joking disappears.
So does the growling.
There is so much love on that huge Bear's face that my throat suddenly feels tight.
“Gia, before you came into my life, I was a mess—”
“Yeah,” Rowan calls beside me. “That's why we call you Wreck.”
Wreck slowly turns his head.
“Shut up, Fido.”
I burst out laughing. So does Gia. Justin nearly spits into his mug. Rowan looks personally offended.
“Fido? That's the best you've got?”
“I'm trying to make a speech, asshole.”
“Then make it better.”
“Rowan,” I warn through my laughter.
Wreck points at me.
“Thank you. Control your Wolf.”
My laughter dies. Rowan's does, too. We look at each other.
Then simultaneously—
“He's not—”
“She doesn't—”
We both stop.
Oh God.
Gia is openly grinning now. Justin makes a suspicious coughing sound into his coffee. Rowan leans toward me.
“Honey Girl, were you about to say I'm not your Wolf?”
“Were you about to say I don't control you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I stand by my statement.”
“Liar.”
“You’re a liar too.”
Matteo looks between us.
“You guys are weird.”
Everyone loses it.
“Anyway,” Wreck growls, fighting a smile as he turns back to Gia, “before the fucking comedy show interrupted me—”
“Dollar!” Matteo shouts.
Wreck closes his eyes. Rowan slaps the table. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. Wreck digs into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and hands Matteo a dollar.
“Extortion.”
Matteo accepts it happily.
“What’s extortion?”
“I'll tell you when you're older,” Rowan says.
Wreck shakes his head.
“Can I finish?”
Gia reaches up and takes his hand.
“Please.”
Everything quiets again. Wreck looks at his mate.
“About a year ago, I couldn't have imagined this would be my life. Hell, a few months ago I couldn't.”
Gia's expression softens.
“But here we are. Mated. Together. With our cub on the way.”
His big hand settles protectively against her stomach.
“And I wouldn't change one fucking—I mean, uh—”
His gaze darts toward Matteo.
“—one single thing.”
Matteo nods approvingly.
Smart Bear.
Wreck bends and kisses Gia's forehead.
“So happy birthday, my sweet mate. And thank you for giving me a life I never thought I'd have.”
Oh, damn. Gia's eyes fill immediately.
So do mine.
Pregnancy hormones must be contagious. She reaches for him.
“I love you, Grayson.”
“Love you too.”
They kiss. Matteo watches them for approximately three seconds. Then his little forehead wrinkles.
“Mommy?”
“Hmm?”
“What's a mate?”