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Using my grip on her, I pull her head back just enough to lock eyes with her, grin, and whisper, “My turn.”
* * *
“Well, it’s about damn time! I thought I was going to have to come drag you guys out by your toes,” Mason shouts as Brooklyn and I walk hand-in-hand into the living room. It smells amazing, and I feel just a little bad that I not only left Hudson to bring in all the stuff we bought but to cook the meal I suggested in the first place.
“Ignore him,” Maverick says, walking up from behind us on silent feet and scaring the life out of me. “He had a few too many at happy hour.” His eyes shine with laughter as he stares at his very tipsy boyfriend and gives me a quick, passing kiss as he makes his way to the kitchen where Hudson is plating the food.
The dining table is already set with silverware, napkins, and drink glasses. There doesn’t appear to be anything for me to help with, so I walk over to Mason, and Brooklyn joins Maverick and Hudson in the kitchen. “Good day?” I smirk at my mate.
He wraps me in a tight hug, stumbling slightly and making me take a little of his weight. “The best day,” he agrees, slurring just a teensy bit. Enough that I know he’s been drinking, but not enough to make him belligerent. I reign in my laugh at the half-drunken grin he gives me.
“Congratulations, Mason. I am so proud of you.” I throw every ounce of sincerity I can into it, and the drunken grin morphs into a watery, proud smile before he kisses me. He tastes like his usual summer rain but mixed with whiskey.
Mason tries to deepen the kiss, but something nudges between our shins, breaking us apart; I laugh and bend down to scratch behind Nala’s ears.
“Wha– WHO IS THIS?” Mason yells and drops to his knees. I want to warn him to let her sniff him first, but he already has Nala wrapped up in a giant hug and is nuzzling her snout before I can utter a word of caution. Apparently, I didn’t even need to, though. Nala’s tail is swishing back and forth while she gives frantic kisses all over Mason’s face, barking happily at him as he laughs.
“That’s Nala,” Hudson chuckles, walking over with a plate in each hand to set on the dining table. “Here I was thinking she came pre-wired to only love Summer. But looks like Mason makes the cut, too.”
It’s an effort not to roll my eyes at my big, goofy alpha. “Nala loves all of us.”
“Sure, sure,” he agrees quickly, nodding sagely. “Dinner’s ready!”
Two clicks of my tongue has Nala following me to my seat and sitting obediently at my side. My cooed,good girl,and generous scratches earn me a few licks on the back of my hand.
“Case and point.” I hear Hudson mumble, and I raise a brow at him.
What was that?I say with my eyes, and he answers with an innocent expression.
Mason takes his seat on my right, Mav next to him. To my left, Brooklyn takes what could be the head of the table, and Hudson sits right across from me. Nobody waits to start passing around the big salad bowl or the mashed potatoes and broccoli, all in separate bowls in the center of the table. Each plate already has a steak that Hudson grilled outside, much to Mason’s obvious delight. Since he didn’t even wait for the sides to come his way before digging in.
“Debishhu,” Mason exclaims. Or tries to. His mouth is stuffed full of food, making the words come out more of an incoherent mumble.
“What?” I chuckle.
He holds up a finger, chews for a few seconds, and swallows so much food in one go that I cringe a little. “I said, ‘delicious.’ Best steak you’ve ever made, Hud.” Then he’s cutting into his steak again, ignoring the laughter echoing around the table at him.
A nudge at my calf has me looking down to see Nala giving me her very best puppy dog stare, to which I tell her she is already a spoiled princess and give her a few bites of my steak. When she sees I’m not going to give her any more, she turns to Brooklyn.
A little begrudgingly, she offers up a bite of her dinner and then gives Nala a firm look to say no more. Unperturbed, Nala makes her way around the table, and everyone parts with a piece or two. That is until she gets to Mason.
Mason, who is already finished with his steak.
“Sorry,” he says, showing Nala his plate. I wasn’t aware that dogs could give looks of disapproval or disdain. But my pup has managed it. Mason must see he’s on the chopping block for her favorite, so he tries in vain to give her a piece of broccoli. A sniff is all it takes for her to let out a low growl at the offending food, and she trots back to my side, where she weaves between my feet and lays down between them.
“Wow, Mason. Not even twenty minutes and you’re on the chopping block. That’s gotta be a record,” Hudson laughs, leans under the table, and tosses one more piece of steak to Nala. The traitor catches it and then crawls forward until she is betweenhislegs.
“Unbelievable,” I huff when I duck my head under the table to glare at her. The look on her face is just as innocent as Hudson’s.
“Okay, okay. No more table scraps. I don’t want her getting sick. Besides,” Brooklyn smiles, lifts her wine glass, and glances at Mason, “We’re celebrating Mason tonight.”
When I turn to my right and peek at my fair-haired beta, his cheeks are flushed–whether from embarrassment or alcohol–but he’s grinning broadly.
“We are so proud of you, Mason. None of us doubted you for a second. Congratulations,” Brooklyn says, and we all echo our owncongratulations.
And when I reach over to give his hand a squeeze, he mouthsI love you.It hits me that I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am now with so much love and happiness filling the room, surrounded by laughter, the best mates anyone could ask for, and the newest member of our family drooling under the table.
I’d endure all the hell I’ve gone through all over again if this was the result. If it led me here, to them.
