Kyle craved everything spicy.
Griffith and I watched with our teeth gritted as he poured pepper flakes all over his pizza then dipped it in the highest-flame hot sauce we could find for him. As he took a big bite, mouth full, he grinned at us.
“Good thing we got our own separate pizza,” I muttered to Griffith.
“Hey.” Kyle gulped then pouted. “Don’t make fun of me. My taste buds are weird because of the eggs. Not my fault.”
“Sorry.” Griffith ducked his head.
“We understand,” I assured him.
His pout went away but he still grumbled. “You better understand.” He looked straight at me. “Only dragons make eggs, so it’s mostly your fault.”
“What can I do to make it better? Anything you want, my sweet omega.” I loved his pouts. I loved placating him.
“Well, you brought me the separate spicy pizza that’s all mine, so I guess that’s good.”
Griffith cleared his throat. “It’s not entirely Falkan’s fault,” he stated.
My pal always had my back.
“What do you mean?” Kyle asked. “He’s the dragon.”
“Wolves can hatch from eggs in a mixed marriage. For that matter, so can bears.”
Kyle pouted again. “Okay, but eggs formed because of him.” He pointed his pungent pizza slice at me.
“Point taken.” Griffith hunched over and stuffed his folded-over slice into his mouth. I’d lost him to Kyle’s logic. Yep, it was all my fault.
“I fully take the blame, and I’ll buy you all the spices in town.”
“Good.” Kyle beamed at me and lunged for another spicy slice.
***
Dad owned the investment firm when he met Father. When they claimed each other as fated mates, Dad signed papers to make them an equal partnership. But Dad was still, unofficially, the boss.
While I was working, he came into my office, shut the door, and sat down with a serious look on his face. Today, he wore pearls. All over his neck and wrists. Most of his chest was exposed by a fancy low-cut gold vest. His rich black pants showed off his slim hips.
“Falkan, I came to find out when you’re taking paternity leave. I’m not here to pry, but don’t you need to be with your pregnant mate?”
“I thought I’d wait until the eggs came. And the nesting.”
“But Kyle is pregnant. He has needs now.”
“Griffith mostly works from home,” I countered.
He sighed deeply. Like me, Dad was the workaholic, until it came to family. Then he dropped everything for that. He never missed a single play or speech or presentation I’d had as a kid. Nor a single birthday party. At the holidays, he made my room into a Christmas town with fake snow and little houses all around. My bed became a sleigh hooked up to an animatronic reindeer.
I got my ability to focus and work hard from Dad. That was a sure thing. But he was right. Family came first. You did whatever you could to make them feel loved, happy, and whole. It waseasier when you had money. Plus, my paternity leave came with full pay.
“You do you,” he said softly. “I’m just wondering when I might need to hire a temp or two?”
“It’s true. Kyle is all I can think about.”
“Well, then. Pick a date.”
“Thanks, Dad. Maybe after this weekend?”
