“I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” Lucy said, “now that you’ve hit him over the head with it.”
“Somebody had to, with Cassius all non-committal, not wanting to be pushy.”
“Or he’d figure it out for himself at some point,” Lucy said, “if she really is his true mate.”
“She is.” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Wolf senses don’t lie.”
He set down the squirming girls, who immediately put their arms up to be held again with a chorus of “Fly! Fly!” Lucy watched while her wolf tossed first one girl then the other into the air while they squealed and giggled.
“Again!” Gigi shouted when Tori toddled off to join four-year-old Callie, who was standing every Barbie doll in the house along the brick fireplace, the “stage” for their “concert.”
Jeremy gave Gigi a final ceiling-ward toss, then held up his hands. “That’s it for now, Gigi-bug. Want to go play Barbies?”
Gigi’s face puckered up. “No.”
“Well, then feel free to play whatever else you want.”
“Want to play flyin’.”
“Whatever else you want besides Barbies and flying.”
With another scrunched-up scowl, Gigi joined her sisters.
On the couch next to Lucy, Zane was sticking close. He’d been a brave six-year-old today, needing a major bandage for a fairly major cut on his hand and exulting in the future scar he’d get as well as the grape sucker he was allowed to eat between meals. But now that the excitement was over and their company had gone home, Zane had cuddled up to Lucy.
Jeremy sank down on the other side of the couch, and Zane gave a little bounce and grin.
“I’m the middle of the sandwich, and you’re the bread.” He pointed at Jeremy and Lucy.
“What sort of sandwich is it? Are we a tuna melt?” Jeremy ruffled Zane’s hair.
Zane laughed. “I’m not tuna-fish.”
“Are you…grilled cheese?” Now Jeremy poked Zane’s shoulder.
“No, Dad. Come on, keep guessing.”
“I know what. You’re peanut butter and jelly.”
“I’mnotpeanut butter and jelly.Obviously.” Then he perked up. “But you and Mom could be, because your hair is brown like peanut butter, and Mom’s hair is burgundy, which is sort of purple like jelly.”
“Very astute,” Lucy said with a little nudge to his other shoulder. “Did you know my hair used to be purple?”
Their firstborn pup’s eyes widened. “No.”
“When I met your dad, it was.”
“Huh,” Zane said. Then he shrugged. “Three guesses, you’re out. Our sandwich is a B.L.T.”
“Of course it is. I totally dropped the ball on that one.” Jeremy draped his arm over the back of the couch.
“Hey, Dad, who’s the most clueless wolf in the pack?”
With a hint of panic, Jeremy’s deep-blue eyes met hers over Zane’s head. Lucy shrugged. He’d gotten himself into this one.
Jeremy sighed. “Nobody’s clueless, pup. I was frustrated when I said that.”
“Who were you frustrated with though?”
