“That you wonder.” She stood up. “Because I have no doubt that’s exactly the type of woman you are.”
I tilted my head. “How? You don’t even know me.”
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“I hope your gut’s right.”
“My gut’s always right.”
“Oh, really?” I got up. “Your gut may be a little conceited then.”
She laughed. “Want to know what else my gut’s telling me?”
“That it wants to sample the pecan and pumpkin pies, the cherry cobbler,andthe vanilla-bean cheesecake?”
“I believe that may be your gut talking, Nikki.”
I laid my palm on my stomach, which rumbled in anticipation. “So tell me, what else is your gut telling you?”
She leaned forward and murmured, “That you’re what we’ve all been waiting for.”
My head jerked back a little. Before I could ask her what exactly that was supposed to mean, she made her way back toward August, the embroidered white wordsBoulder Babedancing against the red silk of her jacket. Instead of her chair, she sank onto August’s lap and hooked her arms around his neck. His arms came around her, and although the sight of them was beautiful, it was also depressing.
I looked over at Adalyn, who was barking out a laugh at something Dexter had just said, her fingers linked through Nash’s. I’m not sure what Ness saw in me, but if she looked over at me now, she’d spot a woman full of envy. I counted my blessings—how appropriate considering what we were celebrating—until the weight of coveting lifted off my chest.
As happiness seeped back into me, burning away all the dark stuff, my gaze cycled around the room, and I swear the air felt warmer and the atmosphere cheerier. It was incredible how the entire world could change when you changed your way of looking at it.
Even when I caught sight of Liam—presently standing at the buffet with his son in his arms, circled by a few chatty shifters—my heart didn’t plummet or squeeze. But it did hold still, before pulsing double-time when he caught me staring.
I smiled, done feeling embarrassed at having gone out on a branch. Sure, the branch had broken and the fall had hurt, but it was time I got up and walked away.
And so I did.
I walked away, and I didn’t look back.
Chapter 21
I’d spent all of Friday unpacking and making the small second bedroom in Niall’s cabin mine. Mom, Dad, Adalyn, Nash, Nolan, and Niall helped me lug duffels and boxes filled with nineteen years’ worth of stuff, upholdingthe Freemont motto of‘All for one and one for all.’ The only family member not in attendance was Nate, but none of us had wanted to bother him after witnessing his level of fatigue.
When I’d brought up my desire to move in with Niall over breakfast, I’d been worried my parents would try to dissuade me, but on the contrary, they told me it was wonderful, that it would be good for me and for their wildest son. They probably thought I could tame Niall. Wishful thinking. I doubted a mating bond could tame my brother’s wildness.
The following day, to make sure Mom and Dad didn’t feel bereft in their big house, I went up for breakfast and stayed through lunch. I needn’t have worried about them being lonely considering Liam had dropped off Storm earlier. They took turns entertaining him. While Dad cooked him homemade solids, Mom crawled around the living room floor and read him board books. I briefly wondered if I should remind them he wasn’t their grandchild, but why kill their borrowed joy?
Family was everything to both of them, and when someone didn’t have one, they provided. They’d done it for Adalyn, her little sister, and their grandmother after the freak avalanche that suffocated my best friend’s parents. They’d tried to do it for Lori when she’d returned from the duel, motherless and brotherless, but Lori hadn’t been as receptive. Probably because she was already a grown woman.
“Honey, can you bring this over to Lori’s?” Dad pointed to three Tupperware containers filled to the brim with Thanksgiving leftovers.
How odd that she’d just been on my mind . . .
“I asked Nate to bring it over, but he’s been so distracted these days.” Dad let out a heavy sigh, clearly hurting for his son.
“Of course. Let me finish up with this little guy.”
Dad stared at Storm, his eyes glazing over as though he were remembering one of us in the high chair, but then he blinked, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with a gentle smile. “He sure has an appetite. Reminds me of Niall. That boy ate more than his twin brothers combined.”
I scraped the dregs of mashed carrot from the bowl and zigzagged the spoon like an airplane, complete with sound effects, into Storm’s already gaping mouth, then let him play with his spoon while I carried the empty bowl to the sink.
Dad wet some paper towels. “I think a bath may be in order. Meg?” he called out, unstrapping Storm from his high chair. “I’d give you one myself, but it’s the highlight of my mate’s day.” He carried him over to the window and pointed out a palm-sized chickadee hopping on the bare branch of a nearby birch.
