Page 45 of Their Pup to Tame

“Well, my uncles and cousins and I have something we do, for when someone new moves into the rooms above the club,” Phoenix said. “We each whip up a batch of wings and have a welcome dinner.”

“Brilliant!” Aspen said. “We can do that and make sides to go with them.”

“Okay, so what about dessert?” I asked.

Aspen pressed his head against my shoulder. I had mine resting on Phoenix’s. At some point we might want to sit down before we toppled over, but I didn’t want to break the mood by suggesting it.

“We each make one,” Aspen said. “Like tonight, we keep them small, one portion each, and have ourselves a wing party.”

“Let me add one stipulation,” I interjected.

“Let’s hear it,” Phoenix said.

“None of us tells the other what kind of wings we’re making,” I said. “We should each make our personal favorites, just to see what happens.”

“That goes for all three categories then,” Aspen amended.

“I can work with that,” Phoenix said. “Either we’re going to wind up with a wide array of things or three variations of the same thing.”

“Half the fun is in waiting to find out,” I said.

“You’re right about that,” Phoenix replied, yawning. “Maybe we should take this to the living room?”

“Sounds like we’d better,” Aspen said, reluctantly letting his arms drop before stepping back.

It wouldn’t have shocked me if we all ended up on the couch tonight. Fortunately, it was big enough to fit us. I just hoped we could rearrange things enough to fit the few pieces of furniture I intended to keep.

Like my chair and writing table. The rest had come with my unit when I’d leased it. Stylish and functional, I hadn’t cared what had been in there as long as I hadn’t had to worry about furnishing the place.

Within reason, of course, I did have my standards. But I had been on a deadline then too. Now I was glad I hadn’t bothered with any of that. This was going to be magnificent. There were so many moments to look forward to, more traditions, and our first Christmas. We were going all out on the decorations. Aspen was notorious for having at least two trees. We had plenty of time to plan a holiday dinner party for our gaming group. Better make sure to coordinate with Dorian on that one so we don’t wind up planning them on the same night. The holidays meant his shop would be busy, but I was certain we could manage if we put our heads together.

I was already getting excited, that was what being with them did to me.

And I hoped the feeling did nothing but grow for the rest of my days.

13

ASPEN

“Let’s get you comfy, pup,” I murmured as I caressed Phoenix’s face.

I was glad we’d come to the demo early. Most of the spots directly in front of the roped-off area were already claimed when Parker placed Phoenix’s pillow by our feet and fluffed it. Deep gray, plush, and covered in velvet, it was the perfect accessory to complement the bulldog gear he’d dressed in tonight.

Forever Fabulous was run by the Lactin Brotherhood, and tonight there were a series of demonstrations planned that we’d been excited to hear about ever since Phoenix paused in front of one of the framed photographs in my study to admire the black-and-white image of an acrobat, the tip of one toe touching the top of his head, bound there in that moment by Shibari ropes.

“I wonder if it feels like being hugged,” Phoenix murmured. “Or maybe a weighted blanket, though the ropes don’t look like they’d be heavy, even wrapped around someone as many times as that looks to be. Where did you get this?”

“At Gallery 19,” I explained, and pointed him to a few of the others I’d purchased that day. “The photographer is local, and so are the models. You might see them around the club from time to time when their Daddy brings them in, though the Shibari artist is a bit of a chaos gremlin and has the occasional meltdown.”

“Doesn’t that describe most creative people, though?” Phoenix asked. “Maybe not the chaos part, but quirky, eccentric and prone to diva-like attitudes?”

He eyed Parker when he said that, and Parker’s mouth dropped open as he pressed his hand to his heart in a melodramatic attempt at outrage.

“I am neither quirky nor eccentric.”

“No, you are chaos personified,” I said. “Or are you forgetting the pen and scrap of paper I found in my potted fern this morning?”

“I was looking for those. Tell your fern to keep her grubby fronds off my notes.”