Mila sighed at Havana. “I know what you’re asking yourself. And yes, he is always this weird.”
Dominic peered down at Mila. “But you can’t say I don’t make a good mate, baby.” He slid his gaze back to Havana. “I treat her like my homework. Toss her on the table and spend all night doing her.”
Mila lifted a hand. “That’s it, you don’t get to talk to other people anymore.”
As the couple quarreled, Tate looked at Havana and said, “Apparently, he used to spout cheesy lines at every woman he met. Some think it’s a mental disorder, but they’re not sure.”
After talking with his relatives a little longer, Tate and Havana thanked them for coming. They then went back to strolling around the Tavern, mingling and accepting people’s well wishes. Soon, they were approaching the bar where Vinnie, Luke, Elle, Alex, and Bree stood.
Vinnie looked from Havana to Tate, his eyes dancing. “The mating ceremony was … interesting.”
Havana raised her hands. “I wasn’t laughing because I wasn’t taking it seriously. I heard Bailey fart, and then she and Aspen got into a whispered dispute about whether farting in public was rude. I could hear it the whole time, and it just set me off. I did apologize to Tate.”
“And I do forgive you,” Tate told her. He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “But you’ll still pay for that later when we’re in bed.” He smiled at her little shiver.
Hearing a lot of rhythmic hissing, Tate turned to see a bunch of shifters in their mink form dancing and hissing in tune with the song. His inner cat scrunched up his face.
“I didn’t know minks were into Freddie Mercury,” said Havana.
“They’re certainly into this song, since if what I heard is true, they’ve been known to hiss Another One Bites the Dust during battle,” said Tate. And that wasn’t weird at all, was it?
The only mink who’d been officially invited to the party had been Casey, a Mercury Pack member. When her friends had heard about the celebration, they’d asked to come along.
It had been a great night so far but, cranky about having to share his mate’s attention, his cat wanted to leave. Honestly, Tate would like to take her home and spend the rest of the night celebrating their mating in style. But one of the setbacks of being Alpha was that he couldn’t do as other couples often did and escape their party early. He had to “set an example” and be sure to thank all the other Alpha pairs for being present.
Holding a paper plate piled with food from the buffet table, Alex said, “Go, Tate, take your mate and have some time alone with her—it’s obvious you want to. No one will judge you for it.”
Bree snorted at the wolverine. “You’re just saying that because if they leave early, it won’t look so awful if you leave early.”
Alex appeared genuinely perplexed. “You’re clearly forgetting it means nothing to me if people would find me ‘awful’ for leaving. My opinion matters. Your opinion matters. Anyone else? I could give less of a fuck what they think.”
“Now you’re being rude,” said Bree.
Alex shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Just then, Jessie and Farrell approached. The female beamed and said, “Congratulations on your mating.”
“Aw, thank you.” Havana smiled at the tiny baby in the Head Enforcer’s arms. “I don’t know how he’s sleeping through all this noise.”
“He seems to sleep better when there’s noise,” said Jessie.
Havana put her hands together as if in prayer. “Can I have a hold?”
“Sure,” said Farrell, who then carefully placed the baby in her arms.
Watching his mate cradle the newborn, Tate felt his chest tighten. He wanted that. Wanted them to start their own family one day. Wanted to see her holding their child. “How’s fatherhood?” he asked Farrell.
The male cat grinned. “The best. And exhausting, but worth it.”
Tate had arranged for Deke to temporarily replace Farrell as one of Tate’s bodyguards, wanting the Head Enforcer to have plenty of time to spend at home with his mate and newborn baby boy.
At first, Tate had wanted both Deke and Isaiah to continue shadowing Havana, but she’d fought him on it every step of the way, refusing to have added protection when she simply didn’t need it. She had, however, agreed to keep the car with the bulletproof windows. Mostly because she couldn’t argue that Vinnie’s enemies might strike at him via her or Tate.
The music changed again, but the minks didn’t leave the dance floor. Tate twisted his mouth as he watched them. “So, minks like the conga too, huh?”
“As does Bailey, apparently,” said Luke.
So it would seem. The female mamba was actually leading the line, looking in her element. A little girl with ruby red hair was at the rear, having the time of her life—the daughter of Casey and Eli, the Mercury Pack’s Head Enforcer. Her slightly older brother stood off to the side, shaking his head at her.