Page 37 of Puck Your Bunny

"Nice to meet you, Cali." Wally shifts his attention back to Brendan. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Kel said you like nature documentaries. We got a long flight to Heathstead today. I downloaded a few about deep-sea fishing to kill the time. I plan to give you a full review when we get back."

Brendan parts his lips and takes the bite. He makes a low, rumbling noise in his chest.

"I figured you'd appreciate a good review." Wally keeps his tone steady and respectful, talking to him like a friend. "We play two games out there. Then we get a stretch at home. We want to come over and knock out the yard work. Take some of the load off your shoulders."

I scoop another bite of the mango blend and hold it up for Brendan. "You have a playoff run to focus on. Save your energy for the ice."

"We need the distraction." Wally strokes Cali's back. "Sitting around the penthouse gets old. Coming here gives us a purpose off the ice."

Brendan takes the bite from the spoon. I grab a napkin and wipe a stray drop from his chin.

"When do you get back from Heathstead?" I set the napkin on the table.

Wally smiles. The expression softens the hard lines of his face. "Sunday night. We get Monday off. That marks the start of our caregiving classes."

I nod. The reality of their commitment settles deep in my chest. They back up their words with direct action.

The morning sun crests the horizon, casting a warm glow through the window over the sink.

Wally sets Cali down on the linoleum floor and stands up. He grabs his empty mug from the table and carries it over to the kitchen sink. He sets the ceramic in the metal basin. He pauses, staring at the windowsill.

An old, framed picture sits next to a dying potted succulent.

"Is this them?" Wally points a thick finger at the glass frame. "Your Alphas?"

I leave my spot at the table and step up right next to him. I look at the messy breakfast caught on camera.

"Yeah." I point to the man holding me in his lap. "That is Emmett."

Wally studies the photo. "He looks like a good guy. Who is the one trying to steal the bacon?"

"Hale." I tap the glass over his messy dark hair. "He built our dining table."

Wally shifts his gaze to the blonde man in the picture. He looks back over his shoulder at Brendan sitting in the wheelchair.

"Brendan looks tough." Wally keeps his tone respectful. "You guys look happy."

"We were." I drop my hand to the edge of the counter.

Wally turns to face me. "What happened to them? If you want to talk about it."

"A car crash." I stare at the dying succulent. "The three of them took a weekend fishing trip. I drove down to see my parents."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "I got a call from the hospital two days later. Emmett and Hale died at the scene. Brendan survived, but he lived in the ICU for months."

Wally steps closer, giving me his full attention.

"My parents demanded I put him in a care home." I grip the edge of the counter. "I fought them on it. I kept my mate here. They cut contact with me after I made that choice. We just have each other."

Wally reaches out and covers my hand with his. His calloused skin feels warm against mine. He traces his thumb over my knuckles.

"You deserve that kind of happiness again." He holds my gaze.

I stare at our hands. The grounding weight of his touch eases the tight knot in my chest.

Wally gives my fingers a soft squeeze before letting go. He checks the watch on his wrist. "I need to hit the road. We have a flight to catch."

I walk him to the front door. We step out onto the porch. The cool spring sky shifts into bright shades of pink and orange.