“So-o-o-o?” he drawled out the word. “You don't want marshmallows?”
I chuckled. “Only if we can make them into s'mores.”
“I'm pretty sure we have chocolate, but I don't know about graham crackers,” Gideon said.
“We've got croissants,” Gage said. “I can throw a few in the air fryer to crisp them up.”
“Croissant s'mores?” I asked, almost giddy with excitement. “Uh, yes, please!”
“Oh, marshmallows weren't good enough, eh?” Garret asked. “But Gage adds croissants and suddenly it doesn't matter that you've already had dessert.”
“Yup,” I said, imitating his drawl.
“Oh, I see how it is.”
There was a flurry of activity as my packages got lined up along the stairs and our coats thrown onto the hooks of the hugebench near the door. It was one of those pieces with a high back, hooks for your coats, and a space below for shoes. It looked like it was from the 1800s. Burdens deposited, we headed back to the kitchen.
“I'll grab some blankets,” Garret said and split off from us.
“I'll handle the croissants,” Gage said.
“I'll get the chocolate and marshmallows,” Gideon said.
“And I'll make some coffee,” I said.
With our tasks assigned, we went about them in a rush and had a tray assembled in only a few minutes. By the time Garret returned with a pile of blankets, the coffee was sputtering to a stop. I grabbed the pot and, as I filled them, slid filled mugs to each man on the counter. We fixed our coffee the way we liked and put them on the tray. Gideon took the tray, Garret grabbed the blankets, and Gage took my hand to lead me out the kitchen door and behind the house. On the way out, he flipped a switch and lampposts came on in the yard, illuminating a path. The hounds led me down the lit gravel path, past the workout yard, and toward the water on the left side of the peninsula.
We passed that extra house, and I waved at it. “Does anyone live there?”
“Nah, that's just a guest house,” Garret drawled. “We use it for storage.”
“So, this whole peninsula is yours?”
“Yup,” Gideon said. “Isn't it nice? We got the first pick of properties since we were here before the rush.” He winked at me.
I chuckled. “Before the rush” was literal. He meant the gold rush, when people flocked there from all over. “Why would Hades post you in such an uninhabited town?”
“Helena is in the center of the state,” Garret said. “Hades wants a Cerberus in the middle of each state in case he needs to deploy us to help another team nearby.”
“Ah. Okay.”
“That's the Missouri River over there.” Gage cast his arm up and back toward the right side of the peninsula. “And this is Hause Lake.” He brought his arm forward to wave ahead of us.
All I saw were a few glints of water until we descended some steps and wound downward to the end of the path. Then I saw the shoreline, the last lamppost stretching its light to brush the lapping lake. A half circle of wood-slat chairs sat facing the water with little tables between them and a ring of stones before them. Gage went to a table and lifted its hinged top to take out some lighter fluid, tinder, and a lighter.
There were four chairs. Even in the dim light, I could see that one chair showed less wear than the others. It reminded me of my guest room. I stood in front of that fresh chair, its paint brighter and less chipped than the others, and sipped my coffee.
“Indigo?” Garret handed me a blanket. “Is everything okay?”
“This is for your mate, isn't it?” I asked him. “Just like the bedroom I'm sleeping in. You've prepared for her. Like parents-to-be making a nursery and baby-proofing the house.”
“Yes, we've been preparing for her arrival for a long time,” he said softly. “We want everything to be perfect for her when she finds us.”
“Finds you? Isn't it the other way around?”
Garret shrugged. “Our mates are supposed to be drawn to us. But I don't care how we get together, as long as we do.”
“Come on,” Gideon said. “Enough talk about mates and magic. Let's just relax for a while and look at the water.”
