“What the fuck?” Demarien’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t I leave you all alone for one day without you stalking me? Youinterrupted our first kiss.” He crossed his arms, glaring at his friends. “I won’t forgive you.”
“It’s your own fault for being so damn predictable,” Puck smirked as he sauntered up to the booth, Milo and Felix on his tail. “We found you too easily. You should have headed a couple of towns over. Then, when we got bored, we wouldn’t have been able to find you.”
“I swear, one day. '' Demarien grumbled and crossed his arms. “When you each get alphas, I’m going to embarrass the absolute snot out of you guys.”
Felix stared at the carrier, eyes full of hope. “Not to interrupt, but are those what I think they are?”
“Now’s as good a time as any.” Boone draped his arm over Demarien’s shoulders. “Guys, meet the council.”
“Oh, look at them!” Felix knelt in front of the carrier. “You three are the cutest little beans in the whole world. Let’s get them back to the estate so we can brainstorm some cute names. And I want to introduce them to Brownie and the cats.”
“Obviously, you should name them after us,” Milo said with a smirk. “Since we’re the cutest omegas in the whole world.”
Felix scrunched up his face. “Okay, but as much as I love the names Milo and Demarien, Puck’s just not the cutest name for my little piggies.”
“Are you saying I'm not a cute piggy?” Tears welled up in Puck’s eyes. “I can’t fucking believe you,” he whispered under his breath.
Felix looked panicked. “No, wait. You’re the cutest piggy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, Puck.” Felix quickly pulled Puck into a hug, passing him a tissue.
“Iama cute guinea pig,” Puck whispered back.
Demarien snuggled into Boone’s side as Felix and Puck hugged it out. “So, you think you can put up with this family?Some of them are crazy, others are fuzzy, hell, one is even a feathery little demon.”
Puck scowled at Demarien. “Don’t you fucking sass Memphis like that. She owns part of your kitchen, you know? Show some respect.”
“Oh, just because she laid an egg in my oven mitt drawer, the place is partly hers now? I thinknot.”
Boone snorted, rubbing his hand up and down Demarien’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Yeah, so long as you’re by my side, I think I can work with crazy, fuzzy, feathery demons just fine.”
Chapter 9
Afew weeks later, Demarien stared at his wrecked kitchen with a happy smile. Dust hung in the late afternoon light like drifting pollen, glowing gold as it slipped through the repaired kitchen window. The window itself was propped open with a paint-streaked block of wood, letting in the smell of damp earth and distant pine.
The smile wasn’t due to the kitchen. That fucker still needed a lot of work. The smile was the result of several lovely dates with Boone Harding. They had alternated between Wilma-Jean and Sammie’s restaurants and spent each night talking over a good meal. One benefit of the main house being closed as a crime scene was that Demarien had plenty of time for dates.
The downside was the ever-present panic creeping up on him and his friends. That was all about to change, though. The crime scene was processed, and the main house was open to them all.
Demarien stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, looking at what would be his kitchen. Unfortunately, the cabinets and countertops were in dire need of repair due to water damage. Now, after a hard day of demolition, the old, broken cabinets were gone, ripped out that morning with more force than finesse. Splintered wood leaned in a tired heapagainst the far wall. The sink sat crooked, disconnected, a bucket beneath it catching the slow, stubborn drip of a pipe Felix hadn’t gotten to yet.
Demarien set his broom aside and dragged the back of his wrist across his forehead, leaving a faint streak of sawdust and sweat. His shirt clung to his shoulders. It had started the day red and was now mostly a tired shade of brown.
“Alright,” he muttered to no one, voice rough but steady. “One thing at a time.”
The new countertop leaned against the wall beside him, thick oak, heavy as sin. He ran a hand over it, slow and careful. It was solid. Honest. The kind of wood that would outlast him if he treated it right, just like the house and the wonderful lady who once lived there.
He closed his eyes, and Aunt Dahlia was there, right beside him, a strong hand on his shoulder.
Felix rushed into the room, grinning. He was in his element. “Sorry. Milo needed a snack. They’ve been working hard. The downstairs is almost completely clean. We’ll be able to paint tomorrow.” His grin faltered. “It looks too bare without Aunt Dahlia’s stuff, though.”
Demarien’s eye twitched. Now that the shock of finding Bernard was starting to wear off, the reality of the situation was settling in. Someone had stolen everything of value in the house, picking it clean like a fucking buzzard scavenging roadkill.
“We’ll make it better,” Demarien said, voice full of more conviction than he felt.
Felix’s grin returned full force. “You’re right. Paintings and furniture can be replaced.”
“Yeah,” Demarien agreed. “We still have the important stuff.”
“Back to work.” Felix moved toward the cabinet frame they’d installed earlier, crouching to check the level again. The bubble hovered just slightly off center. “Of course you are.” He sighed.
