"I know I eat like a trash compactor these days." Hollister's eyes dropped to the table.
I leaned over, kissing him chastely on the cheek. A small peck shouldn't have made me feel so mighty or my dick so hard, but after decades of hiding, it did.
"You two are so cute," Alexis said, coming by with a pitcher of water to fill our glasses.
I dropped my arm over Hollister's shoulders. "Thank you." I was done wondering what my actions would make my parents do.
"Will the other Walkers be there?" Glendon asked.
My arm stiffened as Hollister settled his palm on my thigh under the table. "No. They don't wish to attend."
"I know they are reluctant to attend pack events because of all we put you through. Can any of us be blamed for believing our own sons were the perfect candidate for Alpha?"
"If you bring that night up again, this party is over."
My father sat up. "Of course. I understand."
Hollister leaned in. "What if we change the venue to one with less history? The cousins' house maybe? There's more than enough room outside to put up chairs. They might feel more comfortable if they were on their own turf."
That wasn't a bad idea at all.
"I wish, Aver's mate, but many of the party supplies have been ordered or reserved."
Hollister's right eyebrow dropped as the other rose. His cheeks dimpled from how he was biting them from the inside. "Reservations can't be changed?"
I studied my father's face, waiting for a muscle to tic or any other expression that would signal his annoyance, but I found only patience. "They could be. But at a cost. And as Aver wisely suggested, we should be keeping this party within a strict budget at a time like this."
I couldn't decide if the pack would be bitter about a party or appreciate the distraction. If I knew the others were coming, Branson and the rest, then I might not feel so troubled. Really, I was just putting myself at the bottom of the pecking order, again. At least at the bottom, I wasn't challenged, which meant I didn't have to fight my instinct nearly as often.
The hairs on my nape stood up, and I turned as my father stiffened.
Hollister turned as well, but his reaction at seeing who had just come into The White Otter was much more relaxed than my own. "Riley, Branson!" He waved and smiled.
Riley spotted him, copying his smile and wave.
They weren't alone. Sheriff Maslow was with them. Riley still hadn't been cleared to go back to work, though he'd been told the clearance was coming soon. The investigators hadn't been able to locate a single one of the people who had sent in complaints. We all knew it was because those people didn't exist, but the investigators had to dot every i and cross every t anyway.
"I should be going anyway. Think about the guest list. Even if you only wish to extend an invitation to a few of the representatives." He stood as the others reached our table.
"Afternoon, Mr. Walker." Sheriff Maslow extended his hand forward.
"Good afternoon. You'll have to excuse me. I was just on my way out."
"No worries. I just wanted to take my old coworker out for lunch." The sheriff threw his thumb over his shoulder toward Riley.
"I'm not your old coworker," Riley replied, like this wasn't the first time the sheriff had made that joke. Riley looked directly at my father as he said, "Just an annoying clerical issue that will be dealt with and then forgotten. Forever."
"O-kay." Sheriff Maslow looked from my father to Riley and the rest of us.
"I hope the issue is resolved swiftly," my father said before nodding his goodbyes.
With him gone, Riley's face brightened considerably, though Branson had still not stopped scowling. He couldn't still be upset that I'd punched him, so it had to be him seeing me here with my father, planning the party he thought would ruin everything.
We all had hated the idea of Branson presenting Riley as his omega to the pack, but he'd done it anyway. And we'd accepted his decision.
"Were you two leaving as well?" Riley asked. His eyes darted from my now-empty plate over to the two empty dishes in front of Hollister.
Hollister just shrugged. "I could eat more."
Alexis came by to clear out the old dishes and set places for the three new people. After ordering, the sheriff went to the bathroom, which left the four of us alone at the table. The list of prospective guests still sat where it had been on the table in front of me.
"You're still going through with it?" Branson tore his eyes from the guest look to glare at me.
Hollister grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed. I understood the motion to be both reassuring and a warning not to blow up in public. Or to punch my cousin again. While people were watching anyway.
I returned the squeeze. "I never said I wasn't."
"Can we just talk about something else?" Riley suggested. "Anything else?"
The sheriff returned then. He eased back in his chair, his head swiveling to each of us. "You Walkers. I always feel like I've stepped in the middle of your plans to dominate the world. Why so serious? Is something wrong with Riley?"
Hollister frowned. "No. He's fine." His confusion shone clearly, and I cursed myself silently. We'd forgotten to let Hollister know about how the sheriff had been led to believe we had a dog named Riley. But that was only because the sheriff had shown up at the house while Riley had been in wolf form and unable to shift back.
"Are you guys planning a party?" he asked, likely hoping he'd found a safer topic.
Not even the sheriff could miss the way the air thickened with tension.
"Yes." I smiled. "An engagement party for myself and Hollister."
There was nothing but happiness on the sheriff's face. "Congrats, guys. That's great. When is it?"
"You don't want to go," Branson growled.
At least I managed to keep my growl silent.
"Branson!" Riley hissed.
At the same time, the sheriff asked, "Why do you say that?"
Branson didn't immediately answer. That seemed about right: act recklessly; cause a problem; wait for steady, calm Aver to come clean it up. Not this time.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff Maslow," Hollister said, his voice sounding loud in the awkward silence. "You see, Branson wanted it to be a My Little Pony party, but Aver is strictly a Filly Funtasia type of guy."
Riley burst out laughing. He turned to his mate's face, seeing the same utter confusion as was on mine and laughed harder.
Alexis arrived then with the food. I hadn't ordered anything, but Hollister had gotten an order of onion rings—as dessert, he had said. Technically, they were his second dessert, but I wasn't dumb enough to bring up that fact either. I also didn't care. Hollister could eat a thousand desserts—as long as he got the vitamins and nutrients he and the baby needed at the same time.
The sheriff leaned back from the table patting his stomach after inhaling much of his meal within the first thirty seconds. "I can't give any advice. I was more of a Power Rangers guy myself."
***
Later that evening, Hollister and I were at Lawrence. I'd built a fire that kept the room comfortably warm while we reclined on the couch. Hollister read a book while I switched between reviewing the variety of plants, shrubs, and trees we offered and going over the guest list, striking out the names of the people I definitely knew I did not want to come.