1
FOX, BRODY, AND AUTUMN
What face should a person wear to a Fourth of July BBQ?
Hmm, should he be a pale blonde? Maybe with a crooked nose? Or should he go darker this time, perhaps with a streak of gray in his hair? Or use one of his more known disguises?
The Fox heard a sound from behind him. Turning, he saw Brody standing just outside the room.
“Pup, what are you doing in the shadows?” he asked. “Come here.”
His baby should never hide.
Brody practically skipped his way into the room, tripping over a table leg. The Fox quickly got up and grabbed him before he could fall.
He gathered him close, breathing him in. His need for Brody and Autumn never seemed to wane. If anything, it got stronger every day.
Strange for a man who’d always believed that he was incapable of love.
“Be careful, Pup,” he scolded. “You’re going to hurt yourself, and then you won’t be able to go to the barbecue.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for us to go?” Brody asked in a quiet voice.
“You don’t want to go?” he asked, confused. Brody and Autumn been asking to go to this picnic at Ink and Betsy’s house for weeks now.
So he thought it was what they wanted.
“I thought you liked fireworks. And food. And friends. And picnics. Don’t you like those things?”
“I do,” Brody replied. “But I don’t want to go if it puts you in danger. That would just be selfish.”
His sweet boy was always looking out for everyone else. But didn’t he know that the Fox would never do anything to put his Pup or Bunny in danger?
And there was no one who could go up against the Fox and win.
“Everything will be fine,” the Fox reassured him. “I’d never let the two of you go if there was any risk.”
Brody nodded but he still looked a bit nervous, so the Fox cupped his chin with his hand.
“Hey, if you don’t want to go, then we won’t go,” the Fox reassured him.
“No,” Brody said. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, I do. I just would never want to lose you.”
“You won’t ever lose me,” the Fox told him firmly. “And if I thought there was any risk, then none of us would be going. So leave the worrying to me. That’s my job.”
“Well, I think we get to worry about you too.”
“Hmm. Let me think about that.” The Fox shook his head. “No, you don’t. That’s my job. So stop worrying. Right now.”
Brody rolled his eyes and the Fox tightened his hold on his chin.
“Are you rolling your eyes at me, Pup?” he drawled. “Now that seems like a naughty thing to do, doesn’t it? If you’re going to insist on worrying, perhaps I need to distract you.”
Brody swallowed heavily and for the first time looked slightly nervous.
As he should be.
The Fox sat back in his chair and widened his legs, then he pointed at the floor between his feet.
