Next, he pulls out scissors and the twine that Gideon uses to tie roasts (or on-the-fly-bondage for Leo). He follows it up with a trip to the freezer, where he throws ice in a bag and ends up digging out the meat mallet to reduce it to tiny chips. The loud noisefrom the impact makes him flinch with every downward stroke, but he persists, setting his jaw and forcing a small set of lines between his brows.
And still, Gideon hasn’t said a word. Not entirely because he is playing a game of cat and squirrel, but because he’s completely mystified.
What is all this shit for?
As if Luca had read his mind, he bursts out, “I can’t tell you because Nix asked me not to, and Ipromised.I mean, I shouldn’t have promised, I get that now,” he mutters, “but you know how he gets when he makes those big eyes and then covers you in vanilla and baby sme–”
He breaks off, eyes wide.
With a shake of his head, he turns and heads into the pantry, coming out with a bag of chocolate chips and throwing them on the counter with the weird collection of other things.
“No. Don’t try to make me tell. I can’t. Not until…” His eyes flick toward the clock on the microwave before pointing at Gideon. “Not for another three hours.”
With a shake of his head, he drops his sweats and picks them up, disappearing down the right-wing hall toward the laundry room, his voice trailing behind.
“What is happening right now?” Gideon whispers to the empty room.
Luca never picks up his pants.
Once he’s worn them under duress, they cease to exist for him. Or perhaps as a statement of protest against the tyranny that forces his perfect ass into them every time he wants to leave the house (his words). It’s not unusual to find his soulmate’s pants in the foyer, on the pool deck, or once even on the stairs, which almost ended with Rowan falling to the bottom and breaking an ankle.
The kettle signals that its boiled bounty has finished, so Gideon follows the noise of Luca humming Justin Beiber’sBabyto the laundry room, where he’s folding towels from the dryer—onRowan’slaundry day.
The missing enigma had whooped out loud at being let off the hook so he and Jay could run in the woods. It had been funny to watch the expressions of both anticipation and frustrated disappointment flash across his facewhen he realized Nix would not be joining them.
Both enigmas have had a strange week, which has only worsened in the last twenty-four hours. It had taken a serious threat of ramen for a week if they didn’t leave his house for the day, because they had been well on their way to driving the pack into a disgruntled frenzy.
A similarly snarky Grayson had roped Leo into his magical tutoring session earlier that day. They’d caught a lift with Finn, who—fresh off earning his shiny new driver’s license and a car gifted by Leo—had gleefully declared Nashville’s public transit officially behind him.
Not that Leo couldn’t have driven himself, but Finn seemed unnervingly proud of his newfound role as chauffeur to his mates, ferrying them around the city with smug satisfaction.
So, Luca doing household chores without Gideon’s brand of incentive has never—not once—been Luca’s first choice. Even then, there were often hours of begrudging complaints.
That’s enough to cause a genuine frisson of concern to tingle in his belly.
“Luca Wilde,” Gideon says with warning.
For the second time, Luca jumps. His face pales before it flushes, and Gideonknowsthat there is something seriously up.
“Don’t make me.” He grabs his stack of towels and, holding them like a shield to his chest, disappears past Gideon and out into the hallway, where he deposits the stack on the stairs and beats feet into the kitchen. Pouring the boiling water into the bowl, he fills the kettle again. “Please, Sugar. It’s important.”
“Baby, if there is something you and Nix are hiding, or you’ve been somewhere you shouldn’t have been, I would rather you tell me now so we can deal with it.”
“No, we went to the mall with Artem to buy bab—er—some stuff, and then…uh…we had to come home. That’s it.”
“Maybe I should call Artem?” Gideon mutters, grabbing his phone from the counter. Dead. Of course, it had to die at the most inconvenient time. Shit. He groans, holding it up like a useless relic. “Give meyour phone, please.”
“What?! No. No need for that. Artem doesn’t know anything. Nope.”
Gideon’s stomach drops, well on his way to freaking out. Dropping his phone into the charger, he decides it’s best if he sees Nix for himself. He’ll be quietly proud of Luca’s loyalty to his secrets once Gideon figures out his pregnant mate is alright and not somehow laboring alone in his roo—“Fucking hell.”
It’s Gideon’s turn to fly past Luca, who is now squawking like a wet hen, calling after him as Gideon takes the stairs two at a time.
Thundering down the hall, he’s met with Nix’s closed door.
Nix has always welcomed them with open arms and an open door, but has only asked that they knock before entering. He says the sense of control helps him feel less on edge in his daily life.
Before he can knock, Luca slides between him and the door. “Sugar, you can’t!”
