Bronson took up the story, saying that looking back on everything, it was pretty funny. In hindsight, I supposed it was, but I was glad that was then and this was now.
“But he did send a pic of his panther to Lenny,” Dale chimed in. “Or he thought he did.”
Dad shared a glance with Father. “Lenny?”
Way to put a damper on the conversation, Dale.
I explained I’d sent it to Bronson instead, not wanting to dwell on my ex. He was an ex for a reason.
“Not every shifter meets their fated mate, so you are very fortunate,” Dad told us.
“We know,” my mate agreed.
My parents peppered Bronson with questions about how he was adjusting to the shifter world. My mate responded that it was a mixture of exciting and amazing but also a little intimidating at first.
“His panther is stunning.”
He likes me. He really likes me, my beast chanted.
My dad insisted we go to their house for dinner next week so they could share my childhood photos. It was best we get all the embarrassing moments out of the way early so we’d never have to mention them again.
“We’re so glad you joined the family,” Father said.
Dad’s expression suggested he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if he should.
“Have you talked about having a family, you know, kids?”
Damn, no, we hadn’t. Bronson gave me a nudge which was a “you answer that” move.
“We haven’t, but if that changes, we’ll let you know.”
Dale cut himself a piece of pie. “After watching and listening to this conversation, I now know what will happen when I mate.”
I bit back a sarcastic remark because I hoped that one day Dale would meet the love of his life.
We made arrangements to meet up next week, and I insisted Bronson and I would clear everything away. My parents and brother hugged us, but they reserved the biggest ones for the newest member of the family.
We stood at the front gate and waved off my folks before Dale zoomed off on his motorbike.
“That went well.” My mate tucked his arm in mine as we walked into the house.
It had gone better than I expected, but my folks were pretty chill and so was Bronson.
“Your dad asked an interesting question.” There was no need to ask what he was referring to. “Maybe we should discuss it. It would be the responsible thing to do.”
“Do you want children?” We were going to be married, and we hadn’t discussed it. I often accused Dale of not acting like an adult, but we’d done the same thing.
“I do.”
“Me too.”
After we put the leftovers in the fridge and turned on the dishwasher, I collapsed on the couch, ready for a snooze. But my mate hovered over me, asking if I was tired, and when I mumbled maybe, he straddled me.
“I was thinking.” He ground himself on my crotch. “Maybe we could practice.”
“Huh?”
“You know.” He undid my zipper. “I want children and you do too, and there’s no stork bringing us babies.” He sat up. “Wait, please tell me shifter children are not delivered by a stork.”
