wouldn’t count his blessings too soon. This thing they were doing was new and, as she’d pointed out, they were just having fun. So he had best stop worrying and get to the enjoying part.
“How about ice cream?” he suddenly said. “I don’t think I’ve had any since I was a kid.”
“Seriously?” Her blue eyes beamed above him. “There’s a shop not far from here. And I’m pretty sure a bookstore sits a couple stores down from that. What do you think, Peanut?” She stroked his fuzzy crop of dark hair. “Aw, he’s sleeping. All tuckered out from the sunshine. We’d better get him inside so he doesn’t overheat.”
“Overheat? Do babies do that?”
“Well, he’s not going to blow his top, but yes, his tender newborn skin will burn much easier than ours does.”
“Darn it, and here I thought the sunshine was good for him.” Lars sat up and tugged the blanket over Peanut’s head.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s not going to fry. Lars, you’re a great dad. You’ve some amazing instincts about taking care of a baby. Don’t question yourself so much.”
“It’s hard not to do so. I’ve never done this before. Sometimes I feel like I’m a little bug standing in the middle of this big field, trying to keep my baby bug alive.”
“You’re doing great.” She kissed him then. A soft, slow kiss that tasted his mouth and dipped her tongue across his bottom lip. It was a sweet connection that promised more. When she pulled away, she plucked the flowers from his beard and tucked them into her hair over one ear. “Let’s get ice cream.”
* * *
When they stopped by the bookstore, Peanut was fussing, so Lars stayed in the truck to change him while Mireio dashed in for the baby book and then skipped a few stores down to grab ice cream to go. They headed to her house, and by the time they arrived, Peanut was giggling and blowing bubbles every time she shook her bright hair before him.
“You must have grown up with brothers and sisters,” Lars commented as they strolled into her house.
“Nope. I was an only child. I started babysitting when I was ten. Every penny I made went toward spell stuff and crystals. And a really cool mermaid tail that I still have tucked away somewhere.”
“A mermaid tail?” He dropped Peanut’s bag of accoutrements on the floor near the sofa.
“Yes, it was rubber or something. I could pull it up like pants and there was room in the fin for my feet. It sparkled,” she said, adding jazz hands because that was what one did when one talked about all things glittery. “I’d swim out in the backyard pool for hours wearing it. But it only fit me for about a year. I was so bummed. I think I expected it to grow with me. So you are going to stay for supper, yes? I make a mean zucchini parmesan.”
“I’m not even sure what that is, but I’m in.”
“Great! Let me get it put together. It’ll take about twenty minutes, and then I’ll pop it in the oven.”
“Me and Peanut will take a look through the book you got for us.”
He headed into the living room. Mireio called out that he could take the yarn afghan off the back of the couch and lay it on the floor for Peanut to crawl around on. “Will do!”
Utterly pleased after an afternoon well spent, she floated about the kitchen, gathering and slicing zucchini and onions, grating parmesan, while on the stove top she stirred a tomato sauce with basil and shallots.
Around the corner in the living room she heard Lars reading the What to Expect the First Year book out loud. In a very dramatic tone. She peeked around the corner and spied the big werewolf lying on the violet-and-blue afghan on his back—he held the book overhead while he pointed out the pictures to Peanut. The baby, lying on his back beside his daddy, followed his gestures with burbling fascination.
“Did you know a four-month-old is supposed to get his first tooth?” Lars called as she slipped back into the kitchen. “Peanut has had a tooth for two months. Heh. You’re ahead of your time, my boy. Also, he might start to roll over. Is that so? You want to give it a go, Peanut?”
Whispering thanks to Demeter, the goddess of harvest, and snapping her fingers over the sauce, Mireio imbued it with a touch of love and confidence. It was difficult not to create something to eat without adding a spell. She’d been doing it forever. Nothing intrusive. But Lars could probably use the boost to his confidence. Goddess knows he must have been going through heck these past few months. But to judge from the infant giggles in the next room he was managing remarkably well.
Peanut, eh? That was a horrible name for a child to grow up with. She’d have to work on Lars, help him come up with something before the kid got too attached to the name.
Assembling the dish with layers of zucchini, cheese and sauce, she then put the glass baking dish in the stove and set the timer. Pouring two goblets of honey IPA from the growler she always kept stocked in the fridge, she then strolled into the living room.
Lars lay on his side facing Peanut; the baby was sleeping. “Sometimes I can’t get over how much I like staring at him.” Wonder touched his tone as Lars said, “I made this little guy.”
“That you did. Or at least, you helped. I’m pretty sure the woman had a lot to do with it too. Brewing the little tyke for nine months and all.” She handed him a beer as he sat up and leaned against the couch. The open book lay near his leg. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”
“I already told you how me and Peanut’s mom got together.”
“Right, but do you think she might come back for her boy? I mean, after a few years? What if she has a change of heart? Or if her biological clock starts ticking? Wouldn’t that crush you?”
Lars ran his fingers back through his hair, pulling it into a ponytail behind him, then releasing it with a growl. “It would annihilate me.”
The alpha wolf lived inside him. And she had felt his protective instincts in that growl.
“I’m already so attached to him I couldn’t imagine not having him around,” he said. “But Peanut’s mom won’t come back. She had stars in her eyes. No desire to spend her days in a tiny cabin in the woods. She was pretty adamant about starting a new life in Africa.”
“Did you offer to marry her?”
“Didn’t have a chance. To be honest? I’m not sure I would have. We only knew each other two days. And we didn’t share a lot of conversation in that time, if you know what I mean. But had she decided to give motherhood a go, I would have never backed down on my obligation to raise my son. I’m relieved, actually, that she thought to give me a chance to raise him instead of going the adoption route.”
Mireio stroked the hair that spilled down his shoulders, then realized what she was doing and tugged her hand to her lap. He turned to look over his shoulder at her. “Whatever you’re making, it smells great.”
“Half an hour and you can test it. I hope you like oregano and garlic. How’s the IPA?”
“Awesome. I can taste the honey.”
“Got
