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“I think we’d both feel better with that,” Logan said. “They haven’t always had the best experience with school.”
“Then I’ll do my best to change that.”
“Thank you.”
“Are the pups only allowed to be in their skin in school?” Logan asked.
“Goddess no,” Kale replied. “Whatever is comfortable for them. Our lessons are hands and paws on. Some of the pups have a much easier time navigating them in fur, and that is perfectly okay. They have cubbies for their backpacks and clothes, and each classroom has a bathroom with two stalls, so students can have privacy if they need to change.”
“At home, Wren prefers to be in fur,” Logan admitted.
“So do we. Fur is as welcome as skin in both houses, and no one is going to tell them to get off the furniture,” Rusty explained.
“I better not wake up in the morning and find out this was a dream,” Logan muttered.
“If you wake up in the morning to the smell of burnt coffee, you’ll know it isn’t, and that Rusty made it to the coffee maker before Roark woke up,” Charlie remarked, drawing laughter from everyone.
As far as first family dinners went, this one was shaping up to be a hell of a homecoming meal. Maybe it was selfish, but after the shit he and his pup had been through, Logan couldn’t help but feel like they deserved it.
Chapter Five
(Rusty)
“Is that coffee I smell?” Logan croaked as he shambled into the kitchen, ponytail unraveling with every shuffling step.
He must have lost his hair tie among the bedding. Judging from the way his tank top was rucked up on one side and twisted around his waist, he wasn’t a very calm sleeper.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Rusty replied. “Roark beat me to the pot this morning, which means that’s sludge you smell. You don’t want to drink it without an amount of cream and sugar that borders on vulgar.”
“I take it black…and thick.”
“In that case, have at the sludge with my blessing. I’ll make a normal pot once you two are through recaffeinating your chromosomes.”
Logan snorted and leaned against the counter. “Spoken like a wolf who prefers his coffee to taste like dessert.”
“There is nothing written anywhere that says one cannot drink their dessert for breakfast.”
“Too true.”
“Now, if you’ll just point me to the mugs, I’ll acquaint myself with the sludge and see for myself whether it’s sludgy enough to activate the ignition switch on my brain or if I’ll be shambling around for the rest of the day.”
“They’re in the cabinet right over the coffee pot,” Rusty explained.
Logan ambled over, brushing the hair out of his eyes as he went.
“Oh, right on,” he said when he opened the cabinet to see the collection of mugs they’d amassed since settling in after years on the road. “These are massive.”
“If they made mugs that held a pint of coffee the way they do for beer, that’s all you’d see in our cupboards.”
“Man, I love Wile E. Coyote,” Logan said, pulling the mug from the cabinet. “Oh shit, you guys have Marvin the Marshman too?
“We’ve made it our mission to find as many giant Looney Tunes mugs as possible,” Rusty admitted. “Turn that one around.”
Logan did and immediately started laughing. “It’s got the Road Runner too.”
Rusty waited as Logan admired the mug, then went to fill it and suddenly realized what was on the inside.
“That’s seriously badass right there,” he said, peering in at the round, ceramic lump, painted to look like a boulder, and the limbs and snout of the coyote sticking out of the sides.
