I stifled a groan. It seemed Keeson’s brother was a taddramaticin addition to reliant on liquid courage, neither facts that Drey had clued me in on.
“Sorry, Pete,” I said quickly. “We didn’t mean any offense.” I gently jostled Jules’s arm to pull his attention away from the pissy rabbit. “Jules, this is Peter Cottontail. His brother, Sonny, is a friend.”
“Peter Cottontail?” Jules’s voice was shaky. “Like the..” he trailed off when Pete huffed irritably.
“Yes, genius,” Pete sniped, “like the fucking Easter bunny. Are you happy now?”
And we can addpotty mouthto the list of his charming traits.
Jules looked back to me in obvious disbelief. “He thinks he’s the Easter Bunny?” Jules was whispering as if Pete wasn’t a mere two feet behind us with ears like freaking satellite dishes, his voice completely serious. “Should we have the doctor check him, too?”
Looking between the sincere concern that furrowed my Omega’s brow and the offended outrage twitching Pete’s whiskers, I couldn’t help myself, I burst out laughing.
~*~
“Your boy still not talking to you?” Pete’s voice came from the open door to my office.
“Don’t call him that,” I muttered, holding back a sigh. “It’s demeaning.”
“That’s ayes, he’s still pissed, huh?”
“It’s exactly what I said,” I huffed, scowling at the rabbit. “Jules is an adult, and we are not in a type of lifestyle where it is appropriate or welcome for a third party to refer to him as aboy,mine or otherwise.”
“Touchy.” Pete lifted his flask to his lips, making me wonder where the hell he refilled the damn thing. “I’m just trying to make conversation until we’re ready to begin Operation Locust.”
“Sorry.” I leaned back in my chair, rolling my shoulders. “Yes, he’s still mad at me,” I admitted. “It was pretty thoughtless of me to laugh at him when he was completely serious.”
Pete raised one furry brow. “Yeah, you probably better work on that apology before you try to make up,” he suggested. “Since what you refer to as laughing would best be described on social media using a ROTFCUYNPY meme.”
“And that is?” I asked, certain I was going to regret it.
“Rolling-on-the-floor-chortling-until-you-nearly-pissed-yourself, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I agreed sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “It wasn’tthatbad, was it?” When Pete’s second brow joined the first, I released the sigh. “It was, wasn’t it? I’m such an ass. Any ideas on that apology?”
Pete snorted and fished his flask out again. “You really couldn’t be asking a worse person for help with an interpersonal issue, bucko. Not really my wheelhouse.”
I considered that for a minute, suddenly remembering the story I’d heard about Pete being pinned to the ground by a massive cast-iron pot andstillbeing rude to his brother’s future husband instead of accepting his offer of help. “Yeah, you might have a point there.” Speaking of which… “Are Sonny and Antoine coming up?”
Pete nodded. “Tomorrow. Sonny couldn’t get his shift covered today. They’ll be here in the morning.”
“Perfect. What’s the plan tonight? Are you just settling in?”
Pete shook his head. “Naw.” He crossed the room to my window and raised the open blind, allowing me the full view of the field behind the house.
“Holy crap,” I chuckled. “That’s a lot of Wabbits.”
Instead of laughing at my weak joke, Pete gave a rude snort. “They’re Bunnies, not Wabbits.”
I quirked a brow, earning a whisker twitch and a disgusted sigh.
“Have you checked your email? WW couldn’t make the trip.”
I cocked my head and nodded out the window. “If those are not the members of the Warrior Wabbits, who are the dozens of rabbits currently pooping on the lawn?”
Pete narrowed his eyes, his lips pursing. “Thoseare the elite members of the Bandito Bunny Battalion, Southwest Region Division.”
I looked back out the window at the peaceful scene that in no way suggested an elite group of warriors preparing for a mission and shook my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
