27. Jeffrey

I was nervous.

That was the honest to God truth.

This wasn't my first date by any means, but it was the first date that really mattered. Especially because I'd already decided by the end of tonight I was going to lay everything on the line.

Blair, Richard, Collin, and even Avery had banded together to help me prepare for tonight. While Avery was off in the woods prepping his side of things, Blair and Richard were in the kitchen cooking.

"The meatballs need to be bigger," Blair coached from the sidelines, because he knew jack shit about cooking but was apparently an expert anyway.

"That's what she said," Collin hollered from out in the back of the shop where he was helping move the chairs out of the way.

"Are you sure these are gonna be fine outside for a few hours?" I yelled loud enough that Blair could hear through the open door.

"I already said yes. Shut the fuck up," Blair shouted back. I didn't question him again as Collin and I hauled everything out the back door and stacked them in neat piles.

"Tell me why we're uprooting the whole restaurant?" Collin squinted at me, sweat beaded on his temple, his auburn hair damp.

"It's more accurate."

"It would be more accurate if you were eating in an alley," Collin huffed.

"Yeah, but this is Elmwood." I dropped my pile of chairs, then carefully, systematically began stacking them to the side. "I don't wanna get rained on when I'm in the middle of wooing my man."

Wow. That was weird as fuck.

"That was weird as fuck," Collin echoed my thoughts. "Wooing my man? Lame."

"What else would you call it?"

"I dunno." Collin shrugged. "Something less…cringey?"

"Oh, fuck off." I flipped him off and he snorted, but dutifully followed me inside to grab more chairs.

"Leave that one—" I instructed him, gesturing toward the little table and chair set I'd pushed in the corner. Collin had been reaching for it, his grubby fingers ready to sabotage my plans unknowingly.

"Why that one specifically?"

"Because." I couldn't explain it. I just…liked that one. It had a little chip in the wood on the corner and it was cute. Mutt would like it too.

"Fine." Collin grabbed a different table and waddled his way down the long hallway that led out back to the parking lot again. "You know what's dumb?" He panted as I followed after him, arms equally full.

"What?"

"The fact that you're worried about rain and yet you're putting all this furniture out here."

I shrugged. "I asked and Blair told me to?—"

"Shut up, I know." Collin snorted, hands on his hips. Then he shrugged. "Oh well." He twisted around to grin at me. His eyebrows raised and his lips curled into a smirk—and I knew before he opened his mouth he was about to say something dirty—or ask me about knots or some shit.

So I just turned back around and walked inside again.

Four hours later, Richard had perfected his special sauce. Ew, fuck. I did not mean to say that. Gross. Blair had approved the meatballs. Fuck, that was even worse. And all three of us had set up the dining area perfectly to plan.

Now I just needed to get ready.

And then Mutt was going to show up?—

And it was going to be…yeah.

It was going to be real fucking good.

I crossed the street to Avery's shop and climbed the steps to his apartment above it, feeling giddy and nervous—but excited all the same. He'd given me a key and told me to make myself at home. I could've gone home to get ready, but I figured this was easier.

I…miscalculated.

Because when I pushed into Avery's apartment I was immediately assaulted with the most terrifying mess I had ever encountered. If I'd thought his office was bad, this was—no. Nope. Shit. But I was running out of time, so I braved it anyway.

A black cat skittered across the floor, leaping toward the door the second I stepped through it. I slammed it shut quickly, because today was not the fucking day to end up hunting one of his familiars down because they were escape artists.

"No way," I wagged a finger at her. "Nice try."

And then Gregory—the serial shitter—struck again.

Except his victim was me this time.

Karma…is a bitch .

I barely had time to clean myself up and get into my clothes. The bird shit had been a nightmare I had not been prepared for. I vowed to myself to never enter Avery's apartment again—not even if I was fucking dying. I'd rather choke on my own lung juice than trip over another pile of books and fall face first into week-old pasta take-out.

Again.

Freshly showered—at least Avery had better water pressure than I did—and dressed in a spiffy black t-shirt, my nicest blue jeans, and red Converse, I scurried down the steps and across the street to Blair's restaurant.

Blair opened the door for me and the second I saw him, I burst out laughing.

"Shut up."

"Fuck—"

" You did this."

"Oh my god." I bent over, snorting out my laughter as I stared at his spiffy little chef outfit.

"I hate you." Blair shoved at my shoulder and I shoved back—heart light for the first time in…forever.

"This is my new favorite look on you," I told him, plucking at his chef hat with a giggle.

"Fuck you so very much." Blair flipped me off. With both hands. Then stomped off into the kitchen.

Ten seconds later, Richard popped his head out of the back—wearing an identical chef outfit, his eyes dancing. "Ready?" he asked, because he was a sweetheart.

"So fucking ready."

"Me too." Collin slid out of the bathroom, tugging on his little bow tie, his grin wicked. He had on a pink collared shirt, a teal vest, and a white apron.

My evil plan had all come together swimmingly.

Not that it was very evil to impress the man you love—but still.

"Okay," I sucked in a breath, standing up taller. For a second…I regretted my life choices. Because I wasn't sure if this was too cheesy—or weird—or like…obscure. I wasn't sure if Mutt would get it.

I shouldn't have worried.

Mutt arrived right on time, appearing at the front door with a polite knock. I hadn't expected the knock—usually he just kinda…invaded spaces. But today I guess he was on his best behavior. It was glass so I could see him through it.

And for a second I just…stared.

Because he was dressed in a suit.

A suit.

And he looked…

Fuck.

He looked so fucking good.

The black fabric clung to his body, showing off the swell of his biceps almost obscenely. The button-up he wore beneath the fitted suit jacket was practically popping in an attempt to cling to his muscle. Slick black fabric clung to his thick thighs, and rather than wear a tie, his shirt was gaping open, his chest peeking through the gap.

"Oh my fuck," I shuddered, mouth suddenly dry.

"Woah," Collin blinked beside me, staring out at Mutt with heart eyes. "Super hot," he mouthed, amazed.

"Stop that. Right fucking now." I jabbed him with my elbow and he laughed, hopping out of the way. "Get your prepubescent ass back to work."

"Aye, aye captain Jerk-frey," he huffed, giving me a playful salute. "I'll go wait in the back."

"You do that."

"While you…" Collin waggled his eyebrows. "Enjoy all that…wow. All that?—"

"Shut uuuuup." God, please give me patience. Amen.

"Shutting up!" Collin spun around and then with a little heel click, skipped off into the back where Blair and Richard lay waiting.

I jerked the front door open, all finesse completely fucking missing.

"You look?—"

"You look—" Mutt's voice was low and rough.

"Underdressed?" I offered, shivering as his sapphire gaze dragged down my body greedily.

"What do you mean?" His hands found my hips, and he yanked me against him, face pressing to the side of my throat. His hot breath huffed over my skin as he inhaled greedily, groaning like I was a joint and he was taking a hit of me.

"Just that you…fuck. You look like sex on a stick." Damn, that sniffing thing was distracting.

"I don't know what that means."

"It means you're sexy ," I said softly, head tipped back obediently so he had room to work. "And I'm surprised you're wearing…this." I plucked at his collar and he pulled back and grinned down at me, all sunny confidence.

"You like it?"

"Yeah. I mean—fuck. I did not expect this. I didn't even think you knew what a suit was."

"Jules said if I am to woo you I need one," Mutt declared proudly.

Apparently I wasn't the only one trying to do the wooing around here. I bit back a grin, then decided that was stupid, and grinned wide. "Yeah?" Jules was his bookish brother. He'd told me about him, just like he'd given me a rundown of all his other brothers.

Theo was the gentle one. The vet. The one that had sent me away when I'd gone looking for Mutt.

Butters was the sweet one. He'd helped Mutt make my gift basket.

Harry was the careful one. Which I knew from personal experience.

And Jules was the pretty one. The one who loved humans so much he never stopped reading about them.

"What else did he teach you?" I asked, pressing into him, the warmth of his body bleeding into mine. He always ran like a zillion degrees, and even in a suit I could feel the heat of his skin.

"He said to bring you flowers."

"You already do that."

"I know," Mutt smiled, nuzzling my cheek. "But I brought you more anyway."

"Where are—oh." I glanced at our feet and snorted out a laugh when I saw the red bouquet of roses that sat scattered on the floor. I hadn't even noticed him carrying them. Or when he'd dropped them to hold me.

Priorities.

"You smell nervous," Mutt hummed, ducking right back down again to get back to work. I shivered, tipping into the flutter of kisses and licks that he settled along the length of my neck.

"I am," I admitted, shivering. "I have a surprise for you—and I'm not sure if you'll like it."

"If you planned it I will."

"Softie," I slapped his chest playfully, then decided that was enough snuggling for now and peeled myself free. Only Mutt apparently was not done. Because he reeled me right back in, his face buried in my hair.

The next full moon was only a week away, and he'd been more and more clingy lately. I didn't mind. Hell, if I was being honest I kinda loved it. He always touched me, possessive, and all encompassing. Clinging to me, pressing me into things, crowding on top of me like I was the comfiest place in the whole world.

We snuggled in the doorway for five minutes until Collin poked his head out of the hallway to check on us.

"You done?" He called, obviously trying to hide his outfit so he wouldn't spoil the surprise.

"Fuck." I flipped him off for the second time that day and laughed. Collin disappeared, but I decided he was right. It was time to get serious. Let the wooing commence. "C'mon, big guy. Let's get you some grub."

I jerked Mutt toward the center of the room, heart in my throat.

"What is a grub?" Mutt asked eagerly, twisting to admire the room with wide, blue eyes.

I shifted to the side so he could see better, waiting half-terrified to see if he understood what I'd done.

"It's a dumb word for food."

"Oh!"

A single round table sat in the center of the room covered in a checkered tablecloth. Two chairs sat beside it. A green bottle with a dripping candle rested in the center of the table beside a vase full of breadsticks. The buttery garlicky scent filled the room as I waited—and waited, heart skittering.

Does he get it?

My palms were sweaty.

And Mutt just kept staring.

There was a frown on his face, his brow flickering as he stared at the table like he recognized it but wasn't entirely sure what was going on. So I hurried forward and pulled his chair out for him. He smiled at me, still confused. Then he moved to the other chair and sat down with a happy hum. He picked at his collar like it was itching him, and then his sleeves, staring at the candle with fascination.

"Do you…get it?" I asked, laughing a little as I slid into the chair I'd pulled out for him. Of course he didn't know about that—chivalry or whatever. He wasn't a chick.

Oh fuck.

Had I gotten this wrong?

Why wasn't he talking?

Collin had obviously been watching us, because he appeared a few seconds later before Mutt could even reply. Except he was a shit. A total fucking shit—because he had a mustache on. And that had not been an approved part of his costume.

"Now tell me what's your pleasure," Collin said in the most horrific Italian accent I had ever heard in all my life.

"Collin—" I said warningly, horrified.

"Ala carte?—"

" Collinnnnn. " This wasn't part of the plan. He was just supposed to dress the part. Not act it! It was supposed to be the right amount of cheesy, not full-blown embarrassing.

"Oh." Mutt said. I twisted to look at him. His eyes were wide and full of wonder, his mouth dropped open as he stared at Collin, then me, then the table, then Collin again. " Oh ."

He gets it.

He gets it!

I stared at Collin too—realizing suddenly that he'd been helping me out, rather than fucking with me. I could kiss him, I loved him so much right then.

"You!" Mutt gripped the table tight enough it creaked. He was practically vibrating in excitement. There was an awful tearing sound and then I heard the steady thump, thump of his tail—and I knew…fuck.

I knew I'd done good.

"I?" I grinned, wiggling back excitedly.

"You did not!" Mutt declared, slapping the table, his hair spiking up all over as a blinding smile broke across his face.

"I did!" I grinned back. And then because I could, I leaned across the table and tasted his smile. Careful of the candle, I couldn't really make out with him—so I pulled back, way too soon, and took my seat again.

"Ew," Collin said, grinning at the both of us. And then he placed a menu on the table just like the man in Lady and the Tramp had—it'd taken me for-fucking-ever to make that shit—and gestured at it. "Pick what you want—but don't actually," he dropped the accent as quickly as he'd picked it up, making it even more obvious that he'd only adopted it to help me in the first place. "Because you're eating spaghetti and meatballs."

I laughed, unable to help myself, covering my mouth as I stared at Mutt and his giddy excitement. He fingered the menu with his big, tan hands, sniffing it curiously, then beaming at me the second he seemed to realize I'd made it by hand.

"I'll be back in a minute," Collin saluted me, then Mutt, then headed back down the hallway.

"He is your brother," Mutt declared.

"He is," I agreed, and claiming him came easy. "The little one I told you about. He's a shit."

"I have many shits for brothers," Mutt smiled, eyes crinkling.

"Seems like it's a requirement."

He nodded, still vibrating happily. Thump, thump, thump went his tail. "You did this for me," he said, and my head jerked, my cheeks hot. "Because I told you I loved the movie with the dogs who kiss."

"Yeah!" I wiggled happily, so fucking glad that I'd gotten this right. "You like it?"

"Like it?!" Mutt slapped the table, and the candle rattled. "I love it!"

"Really?"

"Really!" He beamed at me, and I beamed right back. His tail kept thumping, and I was half-tempted to ditch my chair entirely and join him in his. But…I wasn't so sure Blair's tiny dinky chairs could handle our combined weight. I wished I had a tail, so I could wag back and he'd know just how fucking happy he made me.

When Collin returned with the food my stomach gurgled.

He sat the massive plate of spaghetti between us, piled high with meatballs and red sauce. Mutt licked his lips, staring at it eagerly, his eyes bright. He plucked at his collar again, tugging at it subconsciously, like he didn't even notice he was doing it.

As sexy as he looked, he looked uncomfortable too.

We dug in. Mutt even tried to use a fork—which was fucking adorable honestly. He was very careful. Jabbing the meatballs like they were bombs about to go off, and someone had taken great pains to teach him. And every time he took a bite, he glanced down at his button-up, as if terrified he'd spilled on it.

"Hey," I said, reaching across the table to close my hand over his. He was still gripping the table, his claws having popped free in his excitement. "Why don't you take that off?"

"Take it off?" He blinked, frowning down at his suit. "You do not like it?"

"Nah, I love it," I said, my heart thumping. "But you'll be more comfortable without it."

Mutt didn't argue. Which was a testament to how uncomfortable he'd been. I had no doubt he would've stayed clothed the entire date unless I'd said something, so I was more than a little glad that I had.

He peeled the suit jacket off like it was full of ants. And then struggled with his buttons.

"Here," I got out of my seat, crossing the distance between us and helping him with the buttons so he wouldn't accidentally rip them. When his shirt hung loose and open, I couldn't help but cop a feel, my hand sliding over one of his pecs and giving it a squeeze. He laughed, like the touch was ticklish.

His eyes were bright.

"I love you," he said simply, like it was a fact and not a declaration.

I nearly stumbled. My head jerked up, and Mutt's eyes were warm. So fucking warm.

They said, it's true.

They said, don't be scared of me.

They said , I've waited every day since I met you to tell you that I love you.

I didn't say it back.

I didn't know how.

The words just got stuck—but he seemed to know anyway. Because he kissed me soft and sweet, and stripped out of the rest of his clothes with the enthusiasm of a man who fucking hated wearing them.

Dressed in only boxers, he climbed back into his seat. Then he dug in with gusto and I did too—far more comfortable than we'd been before.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Collin did a double take when he walked back into the room and Mutt was practically naked. Which was fair. I hadn't exactly thought that part through. The music that was playing overhead—some sort of ballad or instrumental—switched to something more upbeat.

Something more…Swiftie.

"Oh shit, this is my jam," I laughed, grinning at Collin and then Mutt. Collin blinked, like he was surprised to see me so happy—and I guess…that was fair. Mutt just…brought out the best in me. Made me feel like nothing could go wrong. Made me feel whole, like my scars were beautiful, and my past was just that—the past.

"T-Swizzle, our lord and savior," Collin echoed, refilling our breadsticks and water glasses with the skills he'd picked up while working at Benji's diner.

"The love of my life," I agreed.

Mutt growled. He glared at me, then Collin. "Who is this Swizzle ?" His eyes narrowed. "I will fight him."

"Taylor's a girl," Blair corrected him, popping his head into the room for the first time that night. He and Richard had been biding their time in the back, playing chef. The second Mutt saw their outfits he cackled, smacking the table in delight.

And then he sobered.

"I do not care if she is a girl," he said sagely. "I will still fight her."

"She's just a singer, big guy," I promised with a snort, reaching out to smooth a hand over his hand. "Not competition."

Mutt relaxed. "Good. I did not think so. But…" His face scrunched up. "There are many I want to fight for you. I am making a list." The idea of Mutt hunting down every person who'd ever flirted with me quickly became too much.

I laughed.

And I couldn't stop.

And it hurt—so good—I could hardly breathe. Mutt stared at me in wonder, like my laugh was the most amazing thing he'd fucking heard. And then he joined in, laughing just as loudly as me, pretending to get the joke because he was a solid dude, despite being obviously confused still.

"Ha Ha! Yes. Taylor." He smacked the table and I snorted into my elbow, shaking with mirth. "The singer!"

When I glanced up, Richard, Blair, and Collin were all staring at me like I'd grown a second head. Blair's expression in particular was odd. His eyes were wet, and his lips were twisted into a smile that looked fond and sad at the same time. Like he was seeing me for the first time.

"Hi," he said, offering Mutt his hand, a warm smile spreading across his face. "It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Jeffrey's brother."

"Greetings," Mutt smacked his hand into Blair's and gave it a violent shake. Which was just—so fucking cute, I started laughing again.

"We're just gonna…" Blair jerked his head back toward the kitchen, "Holler if you need anything."

"Sure—" I grinned at him, and gave him a covert thumbs up. He glanced at it, then me, and his smile softened even more. He returned my thumbs up with one of his own.

And then he yanked Collin and Richard back with him, and Mutt and I were alone again.

"Did you know your brothers are fucking?" Mutt asked me the second they were no longer in the room. He looked concerned, and I could not fucking stop laughing.

"Oh my—fuck." I snorted. "They're—I mean. It's complicated? They're not related and I—you know what. It's a long story."

"I like long stories."

And so I told him.

I managed to get a spaghetti moment with him, with the damn meatball, and didn't even care that I got sauce smeared on my nose to do it.

As far as dates went it was pretty fucking perfect.

The most perfect.

The happiest night of my life.

Which was why, of course, I had to immediately go and ruin it with the second half of the date.

Because I was a glutton for punishment apparently.

Why am I like this?