“So?” Kirk walked them out and led them back to the house to investigate the semifinished basement.
Tripp shrugged and glanced at Dray. “If you like it, I’ll put money down and have landscapers out here tomorrow.”
Dray squealed and hugged Tripp tight, belly pressing to his side. Their little one turned a backflip in protest. “Yes!”
“Looks like you two have a house.” Kirk smiled as Tripp walked off to call his parents to borrow the landscaping crew that contracted out of the country club. They’d have it beautiful in no time.
As Dray wandered the house searching for the best baby room, one he would have decorated, Rick added his two cents in about colors and his distaste for carpet. “No carpet!”
“Why not?” Dray stared at the floor. The worn wood surface had a cold and uninviting feel to it.
“Dirty little yarn pelt bacteria sponges. No. Kids projectile vomit, pee, poop, and other all over the place. Seal the wood floors. Add a washable rug. Some of that interlocking foam flooring… Better yet, just toss a blanket on the floor with some of that gripper tape on the bottom. Wash it every other day. Go nuts.” Rick nodded sagely. Cats had large families.
By the time they were done discussing, Tripp slinked back in, his face a mask of guilt. “So, uh… Good news and bad news kinda deal?”
Dray gave Tripp his best bitch-face look. He’d practiced it in the mirror. He liked to say it was inspired by the involuntary expression he made every time someone slipped him a wiener pic in his dating app days. Uninstalling those apps had been the end of an era for him—the day he found out he was expecting.
“Bad news.” Dray sighed.
“Well, it’s the same news. They had a wedding cancellation at the country club. DJ rented out, cake ordered, evening ceremony, and no open bar. Parents gave the bride a full refund for her half—” Tripp muttered something about him already being married or whatnot. “But the theme is red.”
Tripp held over his phone, and sure enough, it was a very red cake, red tulle, everything. A few black accents and Dray would be in alt heaven. “Oh, that’s cute. I wouldn’t mind at all.”
“This weekend.” Tripp flinched.
“Well, everything’s already planned and paid for. I’m down. How much do we owe them?” Dray readied his phone to send Tripp the money, but he waved him off.
“Venue fees were the expensive part. Everything else, the groom’s part, paid for. No profit on it, but my parents wouldn’t take a penny for anything. Small-ish affair. Invite up to forty guests. Seating arrangements are who gives a fuck, and all we need to do is show up dressed nice.” Tripp smiled.
“Sweet. I guess we need to have a honeymoon…” Dray glanced down at his belly. “Babymoon.”
Tripp hissed and nodded, his expression apologetic.
“Once the little one is a few months old, leave him with Uncle Rick and Uncle Kay and we’ll play papas until you get back from wherever you choose.” Rick waved them off. “I’m totally putting in a hot tub out back, though.”
“Since when do you have hot tub money?” Dray wheeled around and frowned.
“Hot tubs aren’t that much. You can get one for free, just gotta pay move and install fees, which are less than you’d expect.” Rick huffed and played with his phone a bit, eyes glistening with want. “Besides, I’m getting my deposit back for the apartment.”
Dray rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
“I need to hire a mover, too… Earmark what you want to keep and sell and give away. I guess when I have movers come to get Dray’s stuff, we’ll tack on yours, too, Rick.” Tripp rolled his eyes and put notes into his phone. He’d likely shrug the duties off to his assistant.
Kirk shook his head and smiled. “He’s a good alpha, Dray.”
“I don’t think I could have asked for better, so far.” Dray leaned into Tripp’s side and huffed. “Now to call my papa.”
Chapter Twelve
Tripp
The wedding was in two days, and Dray was far less nervous than him in some ways, more in others. He couldn’t care less about the wedding. His nerves were focused solely on—the doorbell rang. Lowe. His omega father.
Tripp jogged to the front door and swung it open to greet a slight little male with dark sunglasses, a manbun, and a pink cropped top over low-hung worn leather pants that he was probably a good fifteen years too old to be wearing. Not that he looked bad in them but in theyou’ve outgrown this sort of displaysort of way.
His goofy little sunglasses hung low on his nose as he threw his arms open and hugged Tripp unnecessarily long. “Tripp! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Really?” Tripp froze in place as Dray came shuffling in, a frown twisting his pretty face.
