Elliot looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him what I wanted.
“Can you…?” I asked, wearing a grimace.
“Of course.” His hand found my lower back and rested there as he pulled me to his side while he tugged the front door open.
My eyes landed on my parents.
It was like stepping back through a portal again, into a completely different life. My childhood and teenage years didn’t even feel like mine anymore after my parents had disowned me.
“Come in,” Elliot said, easing me away from the door to make space for them. His expression was polite, but neutral. I knew he didn’t hate them, but he was pissed at them for my sake, and could quickly grow to despise them if I needed him to.
My mom’s gaze landed on the two little wolves playing the ball game with Sab and Del, and her eyes widened.
My dad’s face tensed.
“This is our friend Del, and her son Felix.” Elliot gestured to Del and her little wolf pup, who was swiping at her hand, where she was holding a ball.
Del gave an awkward wave toward them, and I felt bad for inviting my parents. Elliot had said that the pack was happy to be the buffer between my parents and I, but I still felt bad for using them like that.
“Come here, Ev,” Elliot said, snagging the ball with his foot as it came rolling over. He bent down just in time to sweep the little wolf off his paws, and Ev shifted back in Elliot’s arms, babbling angrily as he reached for the ball.
Elliot handed it over, and his spare arm wrapped around my hip.
“This is my son, Evan,” I told my parents, tense and on guard. I waited for them to say something that would piss me off—something that would make the mama wolf in me rage. It would give me a reason to hate them again, a reason to be certain that they’d been in the wrong.
Instead, they both stared at him as he reached for me, babbling, “Mamama.”
I pulled him into my arms and set him on my hip.
He leaned in and blew on my cheek, attempting a raspberry, and giggled at himself when I flashed him a small smile and gave him a little tickle.
“He’s beautiful,” my mom whispered.
When I looked back at her, I saw tears in her eyes. My dad’s expression was unreadable.
“Can I hold him?” My mom asked, reaching for him.
My instincts had me stepping back immediately, and Elliot’s arm came up between me and my mother.
“We’re not there yet,” Elliot told her flatly. “You can sit down, have cake, and mingle, but we’ll decide if and when you get to be a part of our son’s life. Consider this the first shot at a practice run.”
Tears dropped down my mother’s face, but she nodded hurriedly. “I understand.”
“Who’s ready for dessert?” Rocco asked in the kitchen, spreading his arms out wide. A wave of intense relief rolled through me at his intervention. “Evan? I know you always are. We’ve got ice cream.”
Ev wiggled violently in my arms, screeching, “Eem! Eem!”
I set him down, and he ran into the kitchen as fast as his chubby legs could take him. Rocco scooped him up and set him in a chair between Ford and Ryder, where a bowl of ice cream was already sitting.
Gratitude nearly stung my eyes at the smooth gesture. I knew exactly what he was doing—putting Ev between two guys who would keep him safe, and make sure my parents didn’t get close to my baby before I was ready for them to.
Elliot’s arm held me firmly against his side as we walked into the kitchen.
“Cake and ice cream?” my mom asked, her voice wobbling. “Is it someone’s birthday?”
I looked around the room.
Was it?