Minutes later, Arlo was still shaking his head at the sight of his little bird trying to lift a box almost as big as him. And heavy too, and yet, Soren had put it in there and gotten it out at the motel, which couldn’t have been an easy feat.
The little thing, from the sound of it, was used to being surrounded by family and friends, according to the tidbits of information he’d given on the ride home. He'd also confirmed that he was a bird, an oxpecker. No wonder he’d been searching for rhinos, he’d have grown up around them.
There were only two in the crash right now, a mated pair who’d arrived the year before, fearing the stirrings that had been going on in their old community. They had come in search of a new start, and the crash had accepted them.
Could it be the same tribe?
Soren had known to come here because his brother had visited and fallen in love with Cookietown, which suggested that there may have been an exit strategy in place to get the flock moved so they’d receive protection from Arlo’s crash.
From what he’d gleaned so far, they’d run out of time.
It was a story he’d heard too often. One he’d grown damn tired of hearing too. Their people, the whole shifter community, should have been safe to live their lives free of the fear thatthe very people sworn to protect and govern them would betray them and cut their lives short.
He heard laughter when he stepped back inside with the last box, and straightened up from setting it down to see Soren and Taggart sitting across from one another in Taggart’s mismatched beanbag chairs, a Hungry Hungry Hippo game between them.
“Tour over already?” Arlo asked as he approached, his lips twitching at how Taggart eyed him as if assessing how he should play it when he clearly wanted to have fun with Soren.
“For now,” Taggart hedged. “Soren spotted the game, and we decided to play.”
“I always loved playing it with my nieces and nephews,” Soren declared, his smile drooping, but never completely leaving his face.
“Come play with us, Daddy,” Taggart said, patting an empty chair instead of the beanbags.
It was a good thing getting up off a beanbag wasn’t something that would make him look graceful. Taggart was tall, like Arlo, but seemed comfortable on a beanbag.
With a lower table or taller chairs, Arlo would have been banging his knees on it, or worse, tipping it over and messing up their game. Instead, he fit perfectly on the seat offered and took control of the bright green hippo in front of him, struggling to remember how to play.
Okay, marbles in the middle, then Taggart pulled a handle and yelled “go,” he and Soren rapidly tapped the levers on their hippos' backs to make them lunge with their mouths open to gobble up the marbles.
Oh, that’s right, the goal was to capture as many as you could until none were left.
While he concentrated on not tapping the lever too hard, they giggled and clicked away on them, soundly defeating him and the three marbles he ended up with. Soren came out as thewinner with nine, while Taggart was a close second with eight. In that moment, they just looked so damned happy that all Arlo wanted was to keep those smiles on their faces forever.
“One more round,” Soren encouraged, his eyes having lit up the way all the Little’s did when they were playing with something in the playroom.
Taggart had clearly noticed too, because he loaded the marbles back in their container and waited until they all had their fingers poised over the lever to play again.
“Back, back, back, get away from my marbles!” Soren declared as he pressed the lever over and over again.
“Not if I get to them first,” Taggart declared, tongue poking out from between his lips, he was so focused on the game.
Arlo was happy to just snag six this time, while they each gobbled up seven and declared the game a tie. They squirmed in their beanbags, dancing out their celebration in between high fives and cheers.
“Do you know what the winners get?” Arlo asked, his rumbly voice drawing their attention, even when he spoke in a normal tone.
“What, Daddy?” Soren asked at the same time as a bright-eyed Taggart.
It came out sounding so natural, Soren calling him Daddy the same as Taggart, Arlo didn’t draw attention to it. “Tickles!” Arlo declared, reaching out to tickle them both.
Soren squealed and rolled out of his beanbag, trying to get away, landing on the side closest to Taggart, who bailed out to escape Arlo’s fingers.
Taggart bent to help Soren up, only to lose his balance and fall half on top of him as they continued to giggle and roll on the beanbags. Arlo couldn’t have asked for a better seat than the one he had, watching their giggles subside and their eyes lock on each other.
Soren reached a hand up and tenderly traced his fingers over Taggart’s face as he smiled at him. “You’re super adorable when you laugh,” Soren told him before silencing Taggart’s response with a kiss.
Watching his mates melt together in a tender embrace that soon grew passionate, Arlo needed a moment to adjust himself and pick his jaw up off the floor as he watched Taggart stretch out, letting Soren have free rein. Their arms wrapped around one another, then collided as they groped and fumbled to slide beneath each other’s clothes.
Arlo groaned at the sight they made, knowing without a doubt things would never be boring, that was for damned sure, and Arlo couldn’t have been happier about that.
