by Bru Baker
“I never heard you complain about it when it was paying your way through school,” his father sneered.
Danny fisted his hands under the table, and Max enveloped one with his own, grounding Danny and helping him fight the pull of his shift. His teeth ached against his gums, but he pushed the sensation back and regained his calm.
“And you didn’t hear me complain when you refused to pay for my master’s degree in social work either. I do appreciate the advantages you and Mother gave me growing up, but I’m not going to work for you just because your balance sheet says I owe you something for bringing me into the world.”
His mother’s mouth dropped open. “Daniel! What has gotten into you?”
Danny hadn’t realized how much he’d still been under his father’s thumb until now. Maybe it was hearing Max talk about his own family and how messy and fun being with them was. He could tell how much Max loved them from the way he told stories about them—even though he’d mostly kept Danny laughing with stories about how terrible it had been growing up with so many siblings and cousins, Max had a warmth in his voice when he talked about them that made something inside Danny ache.
He’d had every other privilege growing up, but he hadn’t had that. At least, not from his parents. He couldn’t imagine what his childhood would have been like without Stanley and Elva. He’d probably have grown up to be the same kind of ruthless jerk his father was.
“I apologize for disrupting the meal, but I won’t apologize for telling you that I won’t allow you to force me to move to an apartment I don’t want to live in. Perhaps my tone was disrespectful, but so is unilaterally making decisions for your adult son.”
Sloane’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, but she wasn’t chiming in. Not that Danny could blame her. His parents were the executors of her trust, and they would be until she was thirty-five. She needed them. Danny didn’t. He’d cut those golden handcuffs more than a decade ago, and he had no regrets. He’d been lucky, since the money his grandmother had left him had been in a trust that matured when he hit twenty-one. His parents hadn’t had any say over how he spent it, and he’d used it to finish college and start the foundation. Sloane didn’t have that option. Her parents had died before she was the age of majority, and all her wealth was tied up in that trust. Danny’s parents had been her guardians for fifteen years, and she couldn’t walk away from them like he could. Not with her med-school bills.
“You’re right, Daniel.”
Danny couldn’t believe what his mother had just said, but she looked him in the eye and kept talking.
“You are your own person. And while I can’t say it doesn’t hurt that you don’t want to be part of what your father has built, that doesn’t mean you’re not family. I was beside myself when Sloane told me your apartment had been broken into. Both because I was worried about your safety and because I had to hear it from her instead of you.” She took a steadying breath, and between one blink and the next had her ice-queen mask back in place. “That being said, you are behaving boorishly tonight, and it gives me grave concern about going through with our agreement. This kind of behavior simply won’t be tolerated at the gala. Do I make myself clear?”
His father’s jaw was set so hard Danny worried he might be cracking teeth, but he kept his mouth closed. Danny had never seen his mother take charge like this. He wondered if it was as freeing for her as it had for him.
“I understand.”
Max cleared his throat. “I know this is a family matter, and it isn’t really my place to interject anything, but I think your son is amazing. He’s built his foundation from the ground up, and it’s doing really important work. I’m sure Alpha Connoll is proud of him, and Danny’s a real credit to your Pack. It takes a special kind of person to dedicate their life to helping others.”
Silence settled over the table, and Danny unfurled his fist and twined his fingers through Max’s. Sloane bit her lip and looked miserable, and if his father weren’t a werewolf Danny would’ve been worried about a cardiac event, given how red his face was.
His mother was her usual collected self.
“Of course everyone is proud of what Daniel has accomplished,” she said dismissively before calling for the last course to be brought out.
The rest of the meal passed in stony silence, which was an improvement over the arguing. Sloane surprised Danny by deciding to stay the weekend on the yacht.
“Someone’s going to have to manage the meltdown Uncle Daniel is going to have, and God knows it won’t be Aunt Veronica. I’m going to do some damage control and make sure he doesn’t eviscerate the staff.”
“That’s uncharacteristically kind of you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.
She crossed her arms and pouted at him. “I can be nice.”
“You can,” Danny agreed. “You just usually aren’t.”
“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me, Danny Do-Gooder.”
He wrinkled his nose at the old nickname. “Don’t take any of his shit on my account,” Danny said.
“I won’t. Once he stops and thinks about how investing in your foundation will raise the social profile of his business he’ll be falling all over himself to kiss your ass. He really wants in with Max’s uncle, and you’re his ticket to that. Once he calms down, he’ll remember that.”
Joy. Honestly he’d rather be yelled at. Danny hated watching his father cozy up to investors and politicians.
“Really, though, I can handle myself. You don’t need to stay here if you don’t want to.”
Sloane chucked Danny under his chin, leaving him sputtering. “I got you, sweet cheeks. I didn’t have any plans this weekend, so consider this my big contribution to your fundraising drive.”
“Hey, I’m earning this money like a good ho. They’re pimping me out to all the summer parties, and I have to go and smile and pretend like I wouldn’t rather be home watching Chopped.”
“On my Hulu account,” she pointed out.
Sloane gave him a hug and after hesitating a second, reached over and pulled Max into a hug too. He loosened up after his initial surprise, which Danny was glad to see. He wanted the two of them to get along. Sloane was a bit hard around the edges, but she was family he could actually stand, so he’d forgive her biting sarcasm and general selfishness. Her heart was in the right place most of the time, and that’s what mattered.
Max stayed quiet until Stanley dropped them off at the heliport. They’d missed the ten o’clock, but another helicopter was due in half an hour.
Danny bought them both watered-down coffees from the vending machine and settled in on a hard plastic chair by the window to wait.
Max stretched out in a chair next to him, his long legs out in front of him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he yawned.
“We’re even now,” Danny said after he’d taken a sip of coffee. “I’ve met your family, and you’ve lived through meeting mine.”
Max’s laugh was loud in the empty terminal. “Oh, honey. You have not met my family. You’ve met a couple of my siblings on their best behavior and my favorite auntie. Your parents don’t worry me—they might freeze you out over a meal, but no one has ever had to regrow a limb they lost over taking the last chicken wing.”
Could they actually regrow a limb? Danny had never really given it much thought. Their healing factor was accelerated, sure, but did that mean they could regrow things?
“Like, an entire limb or just a finger?”
“Eh, half a pinky. Ray should have known better than to get between Eileen and that chicken wing. She was eight months pregnant at the time.”
Laughter burbled out of Danny even though he was trying his best to stay serious and not let Max wave away hours of bad behavior from his family. “She didn’t.”
“She did. And Ma yelled at Ray, not her. Like I said, she was gigantic. Eight months pregnant and cranky as hell. It’s a miracle she didn’t kill him.”
“Well, even with the threat of bodily injury, your family so
unds like a lot more fun than mine.”
“Speaking of bodily injury, should I be worried? Your mother spent dessert staring at me like she was mentally fitting me for cement boots. I know I spoke out of turn there, but I couldn’t listen to them cut you down like that.”
Danny sighed. “It’s worse. She was probably sizing you up for a tux.”
“You did a good job standing up for yourself. Is it always like that?”
“Dinner with my parents?” He thought about lying, but he and Max were really getting along, and if they were going to have a chance at dating, or even being good friends, it was best if Danny was upfront in the beginning about the hot mess Max was signing up for.
“It’s usually worse, actually. This was the first time I spoke up. Normally I just stay quiet.”
A bitter edge entered Max’s scent, but outwardly he didn’t look angry. Danny was going to have to have Max teach him how to do that. He wore all his emotions on his sleeve.
“I don’t like the way they talk to you. I’ve been to parole hearings where the inmate was treated with more respect.”
“That’s how they’ve always been. In a way, them cutting me off was the best thing they could have done for me. Without holding money over my head, they don’t have any real power over me. I’d have walked out early in the dinner if you hadn’t been there. That’s how the last ten years have gone. I see them at full-moon runs and other Pack events, and I go by at Christmas. But other than that, I limit my contact with them for my own well-being.”
“Family’s not supposed to tear you down like that.”
There was a faint growl to Max’s words, and it sounded sexy as hell. Under different circumstances, a voice like that could get Danny on his knees. His scent must have spiked, because Max’s scowl turned into an incredulous look.
“Talking about how awful your parents are gets you hot?”
Danny grimaced. “Of course not. But you sticking up for me? Yeah, that does it for me. I never really saw the appeal of the cop fantasy before, but I could definitely fantasize about you.”
Max swept a glance over Danny, his eyes bright, and a spear of pure want curled Danny’s toes. The lounge was deserted, but Danny still darted a gaze around, worried that everything he wanted to do to Max was written on his face.
“Is this—I mean, do you mean that? Because I know I said we’d take things slow, but I don’t have slow feelings about you.”
The possessive tone in Max’s velvety smooth voice made Danny shiver, gooseflesh covering his arms. He’d never been attracted to Alpha-male types before. He liked to be the one in control. But nothing about Max was threatening—completely the opposite, actually. He made Danny feel safe and comfortable.
“There’s a definite appeal to moving faster,” Danny said, his heart in his throat.
Max’s eyes flashed, and Danny swore he could see his teeth shift. “I should tell you—”
“Ready, guys? I’ve got the helicopter fueled up and ready to take you back to the city.”
Danny jumped. He hadn’t registered Devon coming into the lounge. He’d been too wrapped up in Max. He was glad witches didn’t have the same sense of smell werewolves and shifters had. There were more pheromones in here than at a high school dance.
Max took a breath and nodded. “Let’s get back. I’ve got to work tomorrow.”
Danny hadn’t thought about that. He worked all hours himself, since foster emergencies didn’t limit themselves to nine to five on weekdays, but it wasn’t like he had to be at the office for that. He should have insisted they have dinner earlier.
“That case you were telling my parents about?” Danny asked as Max fell into step beside him on the tarmac.
“There’s a big theft ring we’re trying to bring down. We really do have phones and computers taken from a scene we busted yesterday. The techs haven’t gotten them working yet. I’ve got to go in and do some paperwork and make some phone calls tomorrow morning.”
No one else was flying this late, so Danny nestled up against Max when they’d taken their seats. They buckled in and put on the headphones, and Danny must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Max was unbuckling him and tugging him to his feet.
“C’mon. Ray is waiting for us.”
Danny blinked blearily. “Why didn’t you just call an Uber?”
“Because if I was in a stranger’s car right now, I might lose my cool,” Max said.
It was dark, but Danny’s eyesight was excellent. The shadows from the terminal didn’t hide the way Max’s nose kept flaring as he scented the air or the hint of fang peeking out from his lips. His eyes weren’t exactly glowing, but something wasn’t right about them either. It might have been a trick of the light, but his pupils were limned with a golden-amber halo.
Danny knew better than to push a stressed-out shifter. He let Max guide him out to the curb with a hand on his back, like he was herding him. Ray was already there, idling in a pickup.
“Do you—”
Max opened the door and pushed Danny in without a word. That answered his question, at least. He’d been asking if Max wanted him in the middle or not.
Max climbed in and slammed the door. In the close quarters, he smelled like anxiety and lust. It was an odd combination.
“Care to tell me what’s going on now?”
Ray cracked up at Danny’s question, which made Max tenser.
“You fell asleep against me,” Max muttered. “That combined with how dinner went kind of sent my senses haywire.”
“Haywire,” Ray echoed with another laugh. “You two are attracted to each other. You want to bone. And Max’s instincts want to put a ring on it.”
A ring on—
“What?” Danny yelped, peeling himself away from Max’s side and sitting up straight on the bench seat. “You want to what?”
Max growled, and surprisingly, Ray cowered away from it, his laugh stopping abruptly. He didn’t look over to meet his brother’s eye, but he apologized.
“I don’t want to put a ring on it,” Max bit out. “I’m just having some trouble controlling myself. You trust me enough to bare your neck and relax. It means a lot to a shifter.”
It meant a lot to a werewolf too. It usually took months of dating before Danny could fall asleep next to someone. Most of the guys he’d been with took that as a lack of commitment, and they hadn’t been wrong. It just wasn’t a lack of commitment from him. His wolf was picky about who it would take its guard down with, but that wasn’t something he could explain to a human.
“I think we need to talk about this, but honestly, I’m wrung out from being with my parents tonight, and I’m exhausted, so it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Hell yes, you have to talk. Has he told—”
Max growled again, and Ray fell silent.
“We do need to talk, and you’re right, this isn’t the time. I should be free for lunch tomorrow. How about I come by your place with sandwiches?”
Danny ran over his schedule and shook his head. “Can’t. I’m supervising a visit between one of my kiddos and her biological parent. We’re trying hard to get them reunited, and the court has ordered these sessions to see if it’s possible to ease back into guardianship.”
Neda was a dryad who’d gotten hooked on meth. Her daughter, Leto, was a ward of the state while Neda worked her way through rehab, but it was much more difficult for a dryad to get clean than a human. Naiads and dryads were very susceptible to addiction. A lot of the Supes who didn’t have high metabolisms like werewolves and shifters got caught up in drugs. They helped dull their other super senses, but synthetic drugs wreaked havoc on a nymph’s body. Danny had a shifter doctor who consulted for him and wrote up diagnoses that human foster families could understand. Officially, Leto had a severe gluten allergy and allergies to preservatives. Dryads couldn’t tolerate unnatural additives in food, and when Danny had met Leto, she’d been stick thin and sickly. On her new “allergy friendly” diet, sh
e was thriving. She’d be doing even better if Danny could get her back in Neda’s custody.
Max closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window.
“He should come to dinner,” Ray said. “Ma makes the best lumpia, and Auntie Ginn said she’d make crispy pata, which is out of this world. Tori’s even making macaroni salad, and she almost never does that. You really need to come. She probably won’t make it again for a year.”
Danny wasn’t going to invite himself over, so he deflected.
“I know what lumpia is because Max took me to your family’s restaurant yesterday, but what’s crispy pata? And why are you so excited about macaroni salad? Every deli in the city sells it.”
Ray snorted. “Okay. First off, that is not macaroni salad. That is some sad white version of it. Real macaroni salad is nothing like that watery shit. It has pineapple and raisins and cheese and there’s like, ham and chicken and stuff in it. Secondly, I’m so sorry you’ve never experienced the mouth orgasm that is crispy pata.”
Max cleared his throat but didn’t open his eyes. “Crispy pata is not a mouth orgasm. Jesus, Ray.”
“It’s lechon—you know, slow-cooked pig?—and then they fry it, still on the bone. It melts in your mouth. It’s so good you’ll cry.”
Danny’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that he’d barely eaten at dinner. He’d been too on edge, and now he was starving.
“See?” Ray said, reaching out to poke Danny in the belly. “You need to feed your boy, Max.”
Max’s hand shot out and grabbed Ray’s wrist before he could make contact with Danny’s stomach. It was impressive, since his head was still against the window and his eyes were still closed.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Raymond.”
“It sounds amazing,” Danny said, even though he wasn’t sure about pineapple and raisins in a macaroni salad. “I hope I’ll get to taste it all sometime.”
Max opened his eyes and let go of his brother’s wrist. His pupils weren’t ringed with amber anymore, and his fangs had fully receded. He didn’t smell stressed now, just annoyed. It was an improvement.
