“Oh, I’ll make you bleed if you say one more miserable word, Lucian Jasper,” she hisses under her breath, pinching my thigh again for good measure. “Leave them alone. They don’t need this crap.”
Like I do?
“Love, I simply want them to be prepared for her.”
I see her cute little nose scrunch up, and bite my tongue to stifle a laugh. This is my love, all full of piss and vinegar, as the Yanks would say. She’s pregnant and still feeling the effects of morning sickness, and yet she’s ready to protect what’s hers without so much as a sniff.
Goddammit, I’m going to sex her up the minute we’re alone, for no other reason than I find her brand of parenting completely irresistible.
“I’m prepared. That’s all you need to know. Now, what all are we doing today?”
So ready to get this done. I can’t blame her. The minute we know everything, we can proceed with the adoption papers and match Benjamin’s with a set with Maddy’s name on.
My lawyers are good, but they want everything in order so that the judge won’t think twice about giving us our girl. Legally.
If that doesn’t happen, well, I have no scruples about greasing a few palms to get my way. But for now…
“It’s good to have you back again, sir,” the butler, Alfred, murmurs regally when the car comes to a halt and we exit.
The man must be nearing ninety, if not more, and yet he still works here every day, six days a week, serving these vipers. I’d tried, unsuccessfully, to steal him and take him back home with me, but the man’s loyal to a fault and stubborn besides.
He’d been one of only two people in this dump who’d given a damn about me and Cammy, the other being Glory, the crotchety old housekeeper.
“I can’t say I’m too thrilled to be here, Alfred old chap, but I am glad to see you. How’s the arthritis?” I ask, taking Ashley’s hand when he leads us in and directs the staff to gather the luggage.
“Not altogether pleasant, sir, though I dare say I’ve managed it rather well these last years. Lady Jasper knows you’re here. I’m to show you into the formal dining room. Lunch is served.”
The rudeness of this act is not lost on me. Or my wife, it seems, because she just squeezes my hand and smiles ironically, rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of all this pomp and grandeur.
“Maybe if we’re really lucky she’ll actually say hello. Now put a smile on that mug, Lucian: we’re gonna give them a good show. Benjamin, stop pulling your sister’s hair, and Maddy, straighten that spine, little cowgirl.”
And then we’re walking into the opulent dining room, my mother and father doing their best royal imitation by looking us up and down like we’re a quartet of particularly unappealing bugs.
That’s when I feel my love’s spine stiffen before her face goes so syrupy sweet I feel my teeth ache.
“Get ready to rumble, baby. I got this,” she mutters out the side of her mouth, throwing me a saucy wink.
***************************************
I’m laughing inside. Well, outside too, since my shoulders haven’t stopped shaking the last half hour since I’d brought my motley crew of ferals into the realm of all things cold and dead.
Ashley, thanks to her immovable pride and her need to hackle the hell out of others, has chosen to do everything in her power to irritate the hell out of Cynthia, something I never thought I’d see.
“So you sit around all day having tea? And shopping? That’s so… No wonder you look so tired. You must be bored out of your mind,” she says sweetly, throwing a glare at Maddy before she can wipe a swath of butter on the tablecloth.
“Well, a true lady knows her place.”
The scathing tone makes my hackles rise, but I should know by now that my little love has no need of my help defending herself from slights.
“Ooookay, well, I’ll need a map so’s to keep away from there. I like my life meaningful and interesting.”
Oh, Jesus, save us all from that trilling tone.
I look away, breaking eye contact for the express purpose of not laughing aloud, again, when I see Benjamin giggling silently, his gray gaze trained to his right, his eyes dancing with so much mischief I can only but assume the lad’s done something particularly smart.
My control almost slips when I look over to see my father’s soup swimming in grapes, his snowy white shirt covered in orange droplets thanks to Benjamin’s skill and aim with a spoon and fruity ammo.
“This soup’s gross, man. Haven’t ya heard of burgers or mac and cheese? Seriously, Mad, when we get home I’ma make you a wicked good burger. Hey, Ash, can we make Mad some real food so she can forget about this yucky stuff these people eat?”