Page 7 of Daddy Frost

Two months ago, when Kalen had called them for backup, Quinton and his sons had decided to stay in Midnight Falls afterward, buying a house not too far from Kalen’s.

Admittedly, it felt good to have the Everharts in the same town as Kalen and his family. He liked having someone his own age to hang out with.

“Roman said I could take a break?” Delta asked, disbelief in his pretty eyes.

“Honey, I wouldn’t lie to you about something that could impact your livelihood,” Kalen responded, and then realized he still hadn’t introduced himself. “By the way, I’m Kalen Frost.”

Those seductive green-gray eyes were ingenuous looking up at him, lips parted as if prepared for a kiss. I wish.

“Delta Riveria.” His gaze turned hard. “I don’t want to hear any jokes about my name.”

Delta Riveria, similar to delta river. “I would never make fun of someone’s name, pup. I have a son named Jax Frost,” Kalen said in an attempt to unruffle Delta’s feathers and get him to smile again.

“Seriously?” He gaped at Kalen. “Did you hate him when he was born?”

The story of Jack Frost had been around when Jax was born, but it hadn’t been popularized until much later. Honestly, Jax had been around sixty, still a juvenile, by the time Kalen had learned about the fictional character.

If he’d known about that damn character prior to Jax’s birth, Kalen and his wife would have definitely given him a different name.

“No, my late wife gave it to him. He was named after his grandfathers.”

Chelsea’s father’s name had been Jackson. Kalen’s had been Maximus. They’d just combined the two into a shorter blend.

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Delta’s hand fluttered to the neckline of his shirt as he glanced around, as if he felt too guilty to look Kalen in the eye.

“No harm done.” Kalen chuckled softly, adoring his mate’s innocent expression. “So, do you want to take a break with me? We could simply hang outside or take a walk. It’s a nice morning, and I would love your company.”

Stretching up on his toes, Delta whispered to Kalen, his warm breath drifting across Kalen’s skin, causing his dick to grow even harder. “My feet are killing me. Could we just chill on a park bench or something? I’d love to rest these puppies.”

Kalen knew exactly where Delta could rest them. In his bed while he claimed the human. “We can do whatever you want, darling.”

Quinton pointed at Kalen’s plate and gave it a thumbs-up. He appreciated Quinton looking out for him and offering to have Kalen’s food placed in a to-go container.

Behind Delta’s back, Kalen returned the gesture. Quinton’s dark gray eyes lit up. The bastard wasn’t offering to help. He was going to devour Kalen’s French toast and sausage. It was a wonder how Quinton was nothing but pure muscle instead of three hundred pounds of food.

“I’m not calling you a liar,” Delta said, lowering back down. “But I’m going to check with Roman. He might be a family friend, but he gave me a job I desperately needed, and I just want to make sure he’s okay with this.”

Kalen waved toward the kitchen. “By all means. I’ll just wait right here.”

As soon as Delta hurried away—those sexy hips rocking back and forth as he walked, driving Kalen insane with need—Kalen scowled at Quinton. “Don’t you dare eat my breakfast.”

“But you just gave me the green light,” the bear shifter argued. “I figured it was compensation for ditching me on our ride this morning.” He turned his fork over and used the tines to slowly drag Kalen’s plate toward him. “Speak now or your food is demolished.”

Kalen chuckled. “It’s all yours. Just remind me to order something for Damon and Elvine before I leave. The two will try to gnaw off my arm if I don’t bring them back some of Roman’s cooking.”

“You’re a lucky man, Kalen. I wish one of my boys would give me grandchildren, but we both know that isn’t going to happen.”

“You never know,” Kalen said. “One of them might end up with a female mate or an ancient vampire might place one of them in a deep sleep and then the Ultionem will have to convert them in order to bring them out of it.”

“No offense to Damon, but I’ll take a hard pass.” Quinton stabbed the four pieces of French toast from Kalen’s plate and dropped them onto his, which was covered in syrup and sausage grease.

Quinton should consider himself lucky he couldn’t suffer from clogged arteries or high cholesterol or any other ailment that resulted from eating what he had in front of him.

Or had in front of him since most of his own breakfast was already gone.

Delta returned. “I think I saw a park bench a block over,” he said. “Any further and you just might have to carry me.”

His mate was joking, but Kalen would gladly carry the guy anywhere he wanted to go. Delta might be of average height, but he was slim, weighing no more than around 130 pounds.

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