Page 425 of Bride of Choice

Buu shrugged but smiled. He was so used to Rek by now, he just rolled with it.

Not feeling excluded was very important to both of them. They really were besties in the making, built-in emotional support for each other.

“Rek and Celuk have plans, build ‘nother love nest by my Jojomine hill house,” Rek told Buu.

“My hill house? I think you mean Celuk’s, Rekkie poo,” I corrected not unkindly.

Rek shrug his head. “‘Luk say it Jojomine’s. Him make for mate. Jojomine ‘Luk’s mate. It Jojomine’s, like lovenest and big village hut.”

“Are you telling me I’m suddenly some Lo denaii real estate tycoon?” I spluttered on a laugh. I was more joking than serious, though that was a lot to take in. They thought of them as mine?

“No.” My sock monkey shook his head. “Rek no know ‘bout Roller toaster tycloons. Dace tell ‘bout that game. Rek not play games. Rek for the reals. Jojomine’s huts.” Oh, I could kiss the fur right off of his confused mug right now.

Another laugh left me.

“Like Buu clan. Caves females’. Buu caves Jojomine’s,” Buu agreed.

“Well, all of it is OURS,” I told them. “Equals.”

“Rek hut still Jojomine’s,” Rek stubbornly insisted.

“Okay,” I said simply, knowing he wouldn’t stop until I agreed. Jerking him down to me, I planted one on him that had him purring so loudly my fingers sifting through the fur on his chest as my hands slid down to rest there were going numb.

A soft snort of a noise left Buu because he knew, oh, my big old cave-beast-cat-man so knew. He had mine and Rek’s number. And I’ve so gone soft to be readily agreeing with him like that. Truly though, was it such a big deal to give in every now and again?

The big deal Rek made out of it, scooping me up to walk me towards the bed and test it out, growling at Buu to join us, told me it wouldn’t hurt to let the fuzzy pain in my ass feel like he’s won every now and again.

Chapter 53

“You summoned me, milord,” I drawled out with all the sarcasm my waddlin’, heavily pregnant buns could muster.

Doogie’s head shot up from the drawing he was so focused on he hadn’t heard me walk into the room he still kept at his mother’s house until I was right up on him.

With a smirk, I waved about his person. “Mosoau told Celuk you wished an audience with me after I was finished with my nobody-bother-me retreat,” I offered lightly.

Doogie nodded, slipped the drawing he was working on into the folder on his desk, and stood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s summoned me from my uninterrupted week of hilltop hideaway bliss?” Snark was seeping into my voice. The boy had interrupted my uninterruptable Me time with my honeys. All of them, all to myself, a sort of honeymoon before the baby arrives.

I’d needed it. I’ve been an emotional basket case lately.

No warrior business, hunting, fishing, scouting, bad creature removal expeditions, no one banging on our door for anything. NOTHING.

Just us, a fuck ton of snow, and all the cuddle time my greedy ass desired.

Honestly, all grumping aside, the guys were probably getting a little stir crazy all cooped up together for such an extended amount of time, huge place that Celuk’s pad was and all, with plenty of room for all or not.

Mini honeymoon timeout for their mate aside, rarely were they all together like that for so long all at once.

Rek was my constant. No matter what was going on, bathroom breaks notwithstanding, he refused to leave my side.

It was as maddening as it was sweet and comforting. His room was now called Joanie’s room. Celuk lost the fight on that one, even if I did spend a great deal of time in either Jeh-kal’s bedroom or Celuk’s in a sleep cuddling pile with whomever wasn’t out doing warrior beast guy things.

If Rek minded, his naturally bitchy ass had nothing to say about it. He thrived in our family grouping. Thanks to some herb infused salve Dorothy made with a bit of donated spit from Buu and Jeh-kal, Rek’s chest rash had healed and his fur was growing back. Physically, he was almost back to normal.

After making a new purse out of the softest hide, gifted to me from my mates, an almost replica of my chest-skin-peeling banana yellow purse, we’d had a ceremonial burning of Melman the yellow purse, may it RIP.

If anyone had anything to say about Rek carrying around my bag for me, they weren’t saying it to us. As I was fond of pointing out, whose business is it if my princess mate, per the silly nicknames the guys roast each other with, sock monkey acts as stand in bag boy? It was fun joking with Rek how fun it was to have a sexy personal assistant at my beck and call.

---