Page 38 of The (Maybe) Murderer Who Knocked Me Up

His alpha mom crowds in behind her. “Slade! What a nice surprise. You’re much… larger than I remember.”

Quin glares at her.

Ruby opens the door wider. “This is my mate, Shae. Please come in.”

The only time I’ve ever seen the inside of this house was when I returned the plates Quin delivered his baked goods on, back when we were in high school. It was just as sparkly back then, with the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling and reflecting light along the walls lined with picture frames. I remember the frames fully covering the walls back then. There were hundreds of them. Some large, some medium-sized, but most small enough to fit a casual snapshot. Half of the frames are gone now, the wall a stark white where they used to be.

“What happened to all of your pictures?” I ask.

Ruby flashes me a nervous smile. “We’re swapping them out. Everyone’s getting older, so we have to update all the photos.”

“Would you like something to drink? We have water, sweet tea, milk, beer,” Shae says.

My mouth waters at the idea of anything besides the tinny water served at Sciff. Jake sent me money for the commissary often enough that I could afford to buy the instant coffee they sold, but sweet tea? I haven’t had anything like that for six long years.

“Sweet tea, please. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

Shae nods. “Sure thing.”

“Are you boys hungry?” Ruby asks. “How about I fix us lunch? I have some leftover cinnamon rolls or I could make sandwiches. We also have some of that ham Tin brought over and a little Swiss cheese. I think I have oranges in the fridge too.”

Homemade cinnamon rolls and fresh fruit? Between that and the sex with Quin, I’m starting to suspect that someone murdered me in my sleep at Sciff, and I’m in heaven now.

Quin shakes his head. “You don’t need to do that.”

I try to mask my disappointment, but Ruby waves his comment away. “Nonsense. I can feed my son if I want to.”

Quin and I follow his moms through the living room and down a hallway to a formal dining room with a large wooden table and eight matching chairs. The edges of the wood are scuffed and the ceiling above is cracked from the weight of yet another chandelier, but the space is very clean, and smells of cinnamon.

“Wait here. We’ll be right back,” Ruby says, and disappears with Shae through another door.

Quin sits down at the table and taps his finger nervously on the surface. I sit next to him. I’m tempted to take my hand in his and try to calm him down, but I don’t know if he’d want that here where his moms could potentially see. We wait in awkward silence for several minutes before Shae and Ruby return with the food and drinks. The cinnamon rolls are enormous and thesandwiches are easily twice the size of the ones at Sciff with fluffy homemade bread and thick slices of tomato. I wait with bated breath as the others take what they want and put it on their plates before I grab a sandwich, a cinnamon roll, and two oranges for myself. I really try to eat slowly, but it’s too good.

Food is precious at Sciff, and if it’s not eaten immediately, it gets stolen.

Ruby gives me a warm smile. “It’s okay. My brother enjoyed my home cooking a lot more after he was incarcerated, too. You eat as much as you want, okay?”

I’m taken aback by her kindness. I expected Quin’s moms to be cold and reserved with me. Of course, they don’t know their son put his paws on me yet.

Quin’s eyes widen. “Uncle Dagger was incarcerated?”

“We all make mistakes,” she says.

“What did he do?” Quin asks.

“That isn’t my story to tell. Now you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about, and I don’t think it was your Uncle Dagger’s criminal record.”

Quin takes a deep breath. “I… did something six years ago that I never told you about. I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything before. I was worried what you would think of me.”

His mothers glance at one another meaningfully.

“What did you do?” Shae asks. “You know we’ll love you no matter what.”

“Yes, I do know that. But I want you to be proud of me.”

Ruby reaches across the table and places her hand on Quin’s. “We are proud of you. Very proud.”

“I… put my paws on Slade,” he stammers, lowering his gaze to his lap. “That night you caught me sneaking in. It was right before he went to jail, and everyone was leaving, and I went off to Aunt Emerald’s because I didn’t know what to do.”

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