Chapter One
Nash
I needed to get laid.
That was the thought that carried with me as I jumped over a long log, covered in moss, that must have fallen between my run the day before and now. Every day, my runs got longer. My regular five turned into my regular ten, and now I was up before the baby—if it happened to sleep at all that night—putting in fifteen miles before most people were even awake.
My tennis shoe landed in mud, and I cursed but kept moving forward. These shoes were circling the drain anyhow. Maybe I'd take the ferry off Walker and go to Seattle for the weekend. I'd find a larger selection out there.
Of shoes and of willing men to bury myself in. It was clear I needed a break, something to help work the edge off.
I broke through the line of trees to the yard of my house, experiencing that familiar wave of pride when I looked at the sturdy walls and windows that gleamed in the morning sun. The sprawling, modern log cabin sat directly where the Lynx River emptied into Walker Bay. We'd made that, the four Walker cousins. It had been our first home away from the only home we'd ever known. Branson and Aver had done most of the planning and preparing, leaving Wyatt and myself to do the grunt work, but that didn't change anything.
We'd built that home when we'd had nothing but each other—and Nana.
It looked big, but not when you considered everyone who lived inside: four grown alpha shifters, a newly changed omega mate, and a baby.
A baby who had caused a lot of whispers on the other side of the bay.
I didn't need some asshole with a memo pad and a pencil, asking me how I felt to figure out that was the root of my recent excess energy. The nearer I got to the end of my run, the closer I was to the wraparound porch. Already, I could see a small pile forming on the mat in front of the door.
I snarled at the collection of baked goods, homemade baby toys, and clothing.
The influx of visitors and gifts was mostly Nana's doing, with all that talk of Riley, my cousin Branson's chosen omega, being blessed. According to her, Riley was blessed, his pregnancy was blessed, his spontaneous transformation from normal human to wolf shifter was blessed, and the wiggling bundle of poopy diapers and around-the-clock screams was blessed as well.
I supposed baby Branson wasn't so bad. He was the only child I knew to be birthed by a man via some kind of spontaneous shifter osmosis—though I was the only one who called it that. We'd all wondered where Riley's baby would exit his body when it became clear that the impossible was true and he was with child. As alpha wolf shifters who had been born at the same time and been tasked with battling each other to the death to discover who the pack's new leader was, the four of us cousins were used to strange. But picturing which of Riley's orifices the baby would make his debut out of had been a cause for squeamish, yet heated, debate. Whenever Riley had been out of earshot, of course.
I was glad we'd all been wrong. Even if we still didn't understand completely how it had all happened.
But now, the pack that we'd done a fan-fucking-tastic job of avoiding for ten years was in our faces again. Not so much the elders or our grandfather, Alpha Walker, but the other shifters that belonged to the pack. They believed in that blessed business more than anyone and hadn't stopped dropping off gifts for the blessed Walker baby since his birth.
Ha. I was forsaken because I'd made the choice not to murder my cousins and brother, but the baby was blessed.
Jealous of a baby before seven, a new record.
I stepped over the pile of gifts instead of stomping on them. I'd have to remember I did that for the next time Aver accused me of being a selfish narcissist. I preferred the term "unarguably gorgeous" to narcissist anyway. I couldn't be selfish and be a fireman. Aver knew that. He just forgot every time I was forced to use the rest of his shitty almond milk when we were out of regular.
"Hey, Rye," I said, passing him in the living room on my way to the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and meandered back to where Riley was giving Bran Jr. his bottle. The baby suckled happily, his eyes closed.
"You're sweaty," Riley replied, eye-fucking me from top to bottom.
Maybe he wasn't eye-fucking me, since he seemed to see something in my cousin, but let's be honest, he was enjoying the show. I stuck up my foot and struck a pose.
Riley snorted. "How many miles today, Nash?" he asked as if the number would worry him.
I shrugged. I knew the number but didn't like the way the wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. He didn't need to be worrying about me when he had so much more to concern himself with. "I better shower." I spun around.
"Nash?"
My feet froze against the wood. The smarter thing would've been to go and leave Riley to care about the things that were important at the moment. But he was clearly upset, and that wouldn't change if I avoided the conversation. If anything, it would just get me yelled at later when Branson attempted to bust my balls for upsetting his mate. And I'd hate to have to kick his ass when he was just defending his mate. "Yeah?" I asked without turning.
"Are you sure you're okay with this party we're planning?"
He and Branson had decided the best way to celebrate their union and the baby was with a huge get-together. So far, the guest list was a hodgepodge of people Riley used to know, people around town, and certain shifters. "Of course."
Riley's pause told me he wasn't convinced. "Would it be easier for you if I divided our time more, some nights here, some at my apartment?"
He still had a few months left on his lease. He'd barely unpacked the first box when he'd met Branson, and the rest was history. Shame filled me. I'd made him feel unwelcome. I deserved to be yelled at. "No, Riley, you're one of us now. Not just a shifter, but a part of the family."
"So you have to endure me and the baby? That doesn't sound fair. I know you're not as on board with having an infant around."
That wasn't fair. I pitched in as often as any of the other guys—maybe not as much as Nana. But I'd changed as many diapers, fed as many bottles, and experienced as many wet burps as the other guys. I didn't have any problem with Bran Jr. Only with the attention he brought.
"I'm not saying you don't help. Branson and I couldn't do this without you guys."
"I thought you could only hear my thoughts when you touched me." I made a lame attempt at joking to change the subject.
"I don't hear your thoughts. You speak your truth, and you're right, it is only when I touch you. You're safe from my curse, Nash."
That was a relief. I attempted to not allow that to show on my face, though. "I don't want you or the baby moving. Ever. You're staying here. Okay?"
Riley's frown didn't budge. "But…"
"No buts, and don't ask again. You'll send Branson into a tizzy. Poor fragile guy. We're out of smelling salts."
Riley snorted again while Branson walked up behind me. "What will send me into a tizzy?" he asked, passing me without a glance and making a beeline to his mate and son. He kissed both, his boxers hanging indecently low on his hips as he whispered something I was glad I couldn't hear.
I didn't need nor want someone to whisper endless declarations of love. Now, if they wanted to whisper all the dirty things they wanted me to do to them, that was a different story. "I'm going to Seattle this weekend. Try not to freak out."