Page 18 of Sobek’s Joy

“Oh,” Rudy breathed. “That’s…okay. Good. Because I really like you being here too. Even when my house is falling apart, and I’m a disaster.”

“Especially then.”

Rudy laughed, the sound shaky and sweet. Before Sobek could second-guess himself, he reached out and tucked a damp curl behind Rudy’s ear. His mate sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t pull away.

“Rudy. Can we have snacks now?” Rose’s voice shattered the moment. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

“Forever meaning twenty minutes,” Jack added helpfully.

Rudy stepped back, breaking the spell, but his smile remained. “Yeah, okay. Kitchen. Let’s see what I can scrounge up that hasn’t been destroyed by the Great Plumbing Crisis.”

The children thundered back downstairs. Sobek gathered his tools, acutely conscious of Rudy’s lingering presence in the doorway.

“Will you stay for dinner?” Rudy asked. “It’s the least I can do after you saved my bathroom.”

Every instinct said yes. His crocodile side had already mentally arranged the table seating - Rudy on his right, hatchlings within easy reach - but the weight of deception sat heavy in Sobek’s chest.

Jack knew what Sobek was, or at least knew that Sobek was more like him than Rudy. That much had been clear from the pup’s shocked recognition when his fur receded. And soon, very soon, Rudy would need to know too. The longer Sobek waited, the worse the betrayal would feel when the truth finally emerged.

But not yet. Not before I’ve built enough trust that he’ll believe the impossible.

“I’d like that,” Sobek said.

Rudy’s answering smile was worth every complicated feeling tangling through Sobek’s chest.

Chapter Eight

The house had finally settled into silence. Rudy flopped onto his bed without bothering to pull back the covers, staring at the ceiling fan’s lazy rotation. His muscles ached from wrestling three kids through dinner, bath time, and the nightly ritual of “just one more story” that somehow always became three. But his mind buzzed with restless energy, replaying the evening on loop.

Sobek had stayed for dinner, and then he’d stayed to help clean up. He’d stayed while Rudy got the kids ready for bed, content to sit at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee that never seemed to get any emptier, paying attention to each of the kids if they directed something to him.

But when the kids were finally tucked in, and Rudy had come back downstairs, already thinking about suggesting they watch a movie or just talk or something - Sobek had stood up so quickly he’d nearly knocked his chair over.

“I should go,” he’d said in that low voice of his, and then he did… go, that is.

Rudy rolled onto his side, punching his pillow into submission. The memory of Sobek’s hand tucking that curl behind his ear in the bathroom made his stomach flip all over again. Their eyes had met, and the air between them had gone thick and charged, and Rudy’s heart had hammered so hard he was sure Sobek could hear it…until Rose had interrupted, and the spell broke.

But later, when the kids were asleep, and they’d been alone in the kitchen? Nothing. Sobek had practically run out of the door like his ass was on fire.

“What are you hiding?” Rudy whispered to the empty room.

Because that’s what it felt like. There was nothing in Sobek’s behavior or the things he said that suggested he didn’t want to be there - everything about the man’s body language screamed the opposite.

The way he looked at Rudy sometimes, like he was cataloging every detail. The way he touched Timothy’s head so gently when the kid leaned against his leg. How he’d crouched down to Jack’s level earlier to help him sound out a word in his book, all with so much patience and care. Sobek wanted to be with them. Rudy was certain of that much.

So why did he keep leaving?

Rudy sat up, crossed his legs and grabbed the throw pillow to hug against his chest. His brain wouldn’t shut up, cycling through everything he knew about his mysterious neighbor, which, when he really thought about it, was basically nothing at all.

Sobek was renting the property next door and had been for weeks now, actually. The initial rental period must’ve been at least a month, right? That’s how those vacation rentals usually worked. But Sobek had never once mentioned leaving. Never said anything like, “before I head back to wherever” or “when my lease is up.” He just...existed, appearing at Rudy’s door with fish or fixing burst pipes or returning wayward children from the pond.

Where was he from? Did he have family? Friends? A job that required him to wear those perfectly tailored black shirts that made his shoulders look…

“Stop it,” Rudy muttered, pressing the pillow harder against his face. He was being ridiculous. Sobek was probably just some rich guy taking an extended vacation in the middle of nowhere, Louisiana. He could be recovering from a divorce or a bad breakup. Maybe he was writing a book. He genuinely could be in the witness protection.

Rudy snorted at that last one. Though honestly, with how little Sobek talked about himself, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

The issue was, Rudy wanted to know. He wanted to understand what put that careful distance in Sobek’s dark eyes, even when he was being warm with the kids. Wanted to know what made a man who clearly thrived on order and silence willingly subject himself to the chaos of Rudy’s household on a near-daily basis.