Page 69 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

He gives us a disbelieving, affectionate smile. “Mhm. This haven is full of love lately. Been a while since I’ve seen so many folks I admire find one another. Happy for you both, for sure. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll have what I have with my Pollyanna. Seven calves and seventeen grandcalves later, and I think I’m the luckiest male in the world.”

“Every one of them is a sweetie too,” I compliment. I’ve known the Shorthorn family my whole life. I’ve just never seen Rip in this sort of scenario.

Rip jerks his head toward the barn. “Y’all come on through. Pollyanna’s cooking breakfast outside, and the team’s playing two-touch tag.” He smiles at Petra. “Tons of other kiddos here too. At least half our players are already mated with families. You might make a couple friends, young one.”

Petra cheers and takes off toward the barn, leaving us behind.

“Kids are so adaptable,” Shorthorn murmurs as we watch her go. “She’s sticking with you for a while, right?”

Hadrian nods. “Seems like it.”

If Shorthorn has thoughts about that, he doesn’t share them.

“Shall we?” I ask, anxious to get to the pancakes now that the scent is wafting toward us.

We head through the enormous barn—the site of at least four or five haven-wide parties each year—and out the back into the big field between the barn and the ranch house. A giant outdoor kitchen situated at the back of the barn is the site of a pancake breakfast for the ages. At least half the team sits with their mates and children, digging into piles of luscious-looking golden pancakes.

Rip’s mate, Pollyanna, directs two of her grown sons at a long, flat griddle. They refill the plates on the tables as we find an open spot at a long table.

I recognize every player here and most of their mates as well. What are the chances of this not getting back to Jasper? Although, I don’t think he hangs out too terribly much with the mated players, so our secret is probably safe for a little while longer.

One of the players looks up with a smile. “Ah, so you must be the reason I can never get Hadrian to come out with us after games.”

My brows rise, and I bark out a laugh, lifting both hands in supplication. “Not me. We’re just friends.”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It feels so incredibly wrong to say that.

Hadrian pulls a seat out for me. “I brought two surprises today—my best friend, Bluebell, and my surprise sister, Petra. Figured I didn’t want to show up empty-handed, and my buddy Jasper’s on a job today.”

That’s a lie. Jasper is most definitely not working today, but I suppose it suits the flimsy story we’re telling.

The other player, Zakaria Longhorn, beams at us as he shoves a plate of pancakes across the table. “Alright then, Hadrian’s sister and Bluebell, of course. Eat up, y’all. The dancing starts at nine thirty.”

“Dancing?” I hand the pancake plate to Petra, who snatches one and shoves it right in her mouth before slapping four more on her plate. “I don’t do dancing. I’ve got two left feet.”

Hadrian looks under the table. “Yuck. You do? I never noticed that.”

He winks when I scoff at him.

Petra glances under the table, looking genuinely concerned. “Wait, are you for real, Bluebell?”

We all laugh as she disappears under the table and yanks my shoes off, examining my feet for a full minute before I can convince her to come back out.

Half an hour later, music comes on from overhead speakers, blaring out over the field and the outdoor kitchen. Petra’s gone, playing touch skyball with the other younglings. Now and again, she appears next to the griddle with another young gargoyle. They steal a pancake and dart away, all raucous laughter and swishing tails.

Flashing a smile at Hadrian, I wave at Petra. “She fit in pretty fast, hmm?”

“Like it was meant to be,” Hadrian says softly.

I look over at him, because it sure doesn’t sound like he’s talking about his little sister.

Purple eyes scan my face, and he smiles. “Dance with me, little witch?”

My mouth goes dry as he stretches a hand toward me, palm upturned. It sits there for a moment, waiting. Glancing around at the monsters who surround us, I realize nobody is even paying us any mind. Hadrian’s open hand is still there like the sweetest representation of everything.

Fuck it. Jasper’s gonna find out sooner than later.

Curling my fingers into his, I return the smile as he pulls me to a stand. I’m so aware of the other monsters as he guides me toward the dance floor. A dozen or so couples swirl around the parquet surface.