It was an absurd thought. Soren was fond enough of Ferdy, but that was more in the capacity of Soren being a distant, stylish uncle rather than some sort of animal caregiver.
But he couldn’t get Bubba—and what a horrible name to give a cat—out of his mind, even after they’d gone back outside and joined the others. “The thing is,” he found himself saying to Danny, “Jay is going to be so devastated when no one adopts him.”
Danny smiled at him over his iced tea. “So you’ve said. But it’s inevitable that some animals will be here longer than others.”
That sounded like a defeatist mindset to Soren. He opened his mouth to say so when Eric and Wolfe arrived.
Danny’s eyes widened as he saw what Eric held. “You got him?”
Eric stroked the head of the little wiry-haired dog. “A compromise. We’re fostering him. Jay said he’s still pretty timid with humans, so some time in a home might help.”
“That’s amazing!” Danny gushed. “He and Ferdy can have playdates. It’ll help socialize him.”
“You think?”
Soren sidled over to Wolfe, whose eyes were on his mate, as they always were. “I didn’t take you for such a sucker,” Soren said, keeping his voice low.
“I know how to keep my mate content,” Wolfe said evenly. There had to be some truth in that—Ericwasbeaming. Wolfe’s lips twitched up in a small smile, something hungry gleaming in his eyes. “And my Eric is particularly endearing when he’s feeling…grateful.”
The sentiment was almost sweet—at least by Wolfe’s standards—but something about the way Wolfe said it gave Soren the shivers. “The way you love Eric is kind of scary. Did you know that?”
Wolfe nodded smoothly. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“Cool.” Soren made to pat him on the back, then thought better of it, drawing his hand back. “Just making sure.”
Soren’s attention was immediately taken back up by Gabe, who was off to the side, talking intently to one of the volunteers. She was a pretty girl somewhere in her early twenties, trying to contain her blush while Soren’s handsome mate spoke to her.
Soren marched over, ready to cause a minor bit of trouble if necessary. He wasn’t jealous, exactly—Gabe knew where home was. But sometimes it was best to make sure everyone else knew it too.
And if it got Gabe calling him “brat” in public, giving him placating kisses where everyone could see…
Well, all the better.
Soren wrapped a hand around Gabe’s bicep, grinning widely at the volunteer in a way he knew was unsettling before pressing himself into Gabe’s side. “Not trying to copy Eric and foster a raggedy mutt, are we?”
Gabe wrapped an absent-minded arm around him, studying the paperwork the volunteer had given to him, not even noticing the way she scurried off under Soren’s watchful gaze. “I’m asking about adoption.”
Soren rolled his eyes. “What did we say about animal fur on my couture?”
“I thought you might have changed your mind about that.”
“Moi?” Soren asked, pressing a hand to his chest.
Gabe’s gaze softened as he turned it to Soren. “If you want the cat, it’s fine with me. I don’t mind pets.”
Soren frowned at him. “Why would I want a mangy old cat, who doesn’t even know how to look cute for company?”
Gabe shrugged but tucked the paperwork into his back pocket, grinning when Soren’s frown deepened. “Just in case.”
Soren slipped out of his hold and walked off, dumbfounded. He made his way over to Roman, who gave him a knowing look as Soren let out a loud huff.
“What did the brother do now?”
“He thinks I want a cat.”
Roman arched a brow. “Do you?”
“No,” Soren scoffed. “I was just worrying no one else is going to want him, is all. He’s ugly. And old. And kind of mean-looking. But he doesn’t hiss or anything.” He bit at his lip, considering. “He’s probably sweet underneath.”
