“I’m up to two a week.” Boone made a face. “To tell the truth, besides you, they’re the most interesting thing I have going on, but there’s no need for more classes in a town this size. I’ve thought about getting a job with the sheriff’s department when Patrick finally transfers here.”
“Are you okay with bills?” Demarien asked, worried. “I can lend you some money if you need it.”
Boone shook his head, smiling softly. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I’m good. Grandad left me his rental properties in town. Taking care of them pays the bills, but it isn’t a lot of work. I’m not used to having so much free time.”
“Well, you’re welcome to work at the inn anytime you want.” Demarien huffed. “Puck insisted on buying a small herd of sheep from a man downsizing his hobby farm. He wants to use them to clear brush around the old vineyard and gardens. We tried to tell him that mowing it would be cheaper, but he insists the sheep will be more efficient. They get here next week, and now we’re going to have to work on fencing and sheep houses.”
“Sheep houses?”
“Puck wants to put little sheltered areas around the place so they can get out of the rain when they want to.”
Boone grinned. “I can help with that.”
Demarien felt some relief at the words. “Would you? It would be very helpful, and maybe you can curb Puck’s ideas about highland cows. There’s no reason for them, but he wants to getthem. I swear that hobby farmer keeps sending him pictures of the remaining animals for sale. Maybe Patrick can go intimidate him when he gets here.”
“I can do that.”
Demarien rolled his eyes. “No one will be intimidated by a man as handsome as you.”
Boone pointed at the kitchen window. “What about Milo? He looks pretty creepy right now.”
Demarien turned and stared at his friend.
Milo pressed his face into the glass of the kitchen window, looking pitiful. “I can smell your cooking from the main house. Please, Demarien, if you ever loved me, please feed me.”
“Balls,” Demarien groaned. “Come in, you weirdo.”
Milo hurried around to the door and came inside, stopping a moment to pet Brownie. “Puck and Felix ordered pizza, and it was good, but it wasn’t enough. We’ve been working all day, and I’m starving.”
Demarien sighed. He understood the omega. His own nausea and cravings were a pain to deal with. Milo’s increased appetite had only gotten worse over the past few weeks. “Boone, will you please text the other two and invite them over? It looks like our dinner date is officially crashed.”
“On it,” Boone said with a laugh, grabbing his phone.
The kitchen was filled again with the sound of cooking. Steady, warm, and just a little brighter than before.
The table was toosmall for the number of people gathered around it, but no one seemed to mind. Elbows bumped, knees knocked, and now and then someone reached across someone else’s plate with a quick “sorry, not sorry” grin.
“Okay, tomorrow we start on the fencing around the vineyard for the sheep. Who’s going to help me?” Puck asked before shoveling food into his mouth.
“That would be me,” Boone said, leaning back in his chair as if he’d just been awarded a medal. “And before you say anything, no, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s fine. Neither do Demarien and Milo,” Puck replied, scooping up another bite.
Across from him, Felix snorted into his drink. “As if you do?”
“I can put up a fence,” Puck protested.
“Just like you can paint,” Felix said, smirking. “You remember that whole room I had to repaint today?”
Puck winced. “Okay, so maybe Felix needs to help with the fence, too.”
Laughter rippled around the table, easy and familiar.
Milo, who had been quietly piling food onto his plate, finally took a bite and moaned. “Why does food taste so much better now?”
“It’s not fair.” Demarien pushed his plate away from him. It smelled funny to him, though he had made the dish a hundred times before, so he knew it was fine.
Milo chewed thoughtfully, then nodded once. “Yep, it’s even better than the last time you made it.”
