EIGHT
LIZZY
As much asI hated it, I couldn’t despise Elliot. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but Evan had already put him through the wringer, and Elliot had taken it all in stride.
My wolf followed him through the store as he loaded a cart with non-perishable things—a crib, crib sheet, and a fuzzy blanket. He let Evan pick the blanket, and ended up with one with a massive, realistic-style dinosaur on it. I would’ve said no to that if I’d been there, because it was a little creepy. But Elliot didn’t seem to think it was worth the battle, and Evan was holding it in a death grip.
He wasn’t wrong about the battle. The blanket was ugly, but it didn’t really matter.
Elliot had to pull Evan out of the shopping cart to figure out what his diaper size was, which pissed Evan off and earned him a hell of a lot of furious toddler screams and pinches, but Elliot only teased him about his temper and buckled him back in to the shopping cart’s seat in return. Eventually, Evan chilled out, and Elliot continued shopping.
I was shocked at how calm he was. Evan’s tantrums seemed harder on me than they did on Elliot, and I was the kid’s mom. Shouldn’t I have been the calm one?
He mentioned to my wolf a few times that I would probably be mad at him for buying things for Evan and moving him into his house while she was hunting him, but I wasn’t. Actually, I thought it was smart. Evan was a handful. And Elliot was right about not fitting in my bed; the guy was massive. And…
Well, I couldn’t be mad at someone for buying things for my baby. Especially when they were treating him as well as Elliot was.
I did feel bad that I couldn’t just go to the store and drop as much money on my son as Elliot was, but that was my own problem. Not Elliot’s.
He made three trips out to drop supplies off in the bed of his truck before he made it to the toy section. He’d already bought five boxes of pediatric shakes (a week’s supply, at the rate Evan went through those things), two boxes of diapers, a box of wipes, and a bunch of furniture and baby room things. Including a noisy fan, which was a necessity if you asked Ev.
When he reached the toy section, the temper tantrums that I knew were coming ensued. Evan wanted everything, and he wanted the freedom to choose everything.
Elliot teased him, loading up his cart with the things Evan liked—mostly, monster trucks, dinosaurs, Legos, and balls. When Evan kept melting down, he called his friend—Dax, one of his pack mates, I was sure—to come push another cart for groceries and toys.
Dax showed up while Elliot was still driving up and down the toy aisles.
Elliot pointed out a little backyard playground, and my mama heart burned.
My baby would love that.
The two men walked all over the backyard section, picking out some more outdoor toys, and my mama heart only warmed further. I didn’t want another mate… but Elliot was already giving Evan things that I never could.
I didn’t resent him for that, though I was a bit sad that I couldn’t give him those things myself.
Evan didn’t have many people in his life who loved him. I wished he did, but my parents had disowned me when they found out I was pregnant, and SD’s pack had hated him because he was mine. I hadn’t let the main alpha in the old pack put Evan in a pack of his own, because I was worried about what the other parents would say given all of the hatred focused on me. Hell, I didn’t even know what pack role his wolf would take.
So even though I didn’t want a mate, maybe it would be good for Evan to have a father figure in his life.
Maybe.
And if Elliot was as good a guy as he seemed, maybe we could be friends. Just friends—our wolves would probably force us to live together, and be a part of the same pack and whatnot—but it might be nice to have him as a friend.
Maybe.