Feeling his cheeks burn, he ducked his head and shuffled down to her. Even though she was a whole foot shorter, even in her heels, he felt about twelve as she took his hands and held them out wide.
“Oh, you are the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “I, ah, wanted to look nice.”
“You do! Doesn’t he, my hellren?”
Blay’s father came over and stuck out his hand. “Well done, son.”
“It’s a Ford. Thingy.” God, way to sound stupid. “Or something.”
As he and Blay’s father shook, and then embraced, Blay’s dad said, “I couldn’t be happier for you both.”
Blay’s mom started sniffling and took out a white handkerchief. “This is so wonderful. I have another son—two sons! Come here, I have to hug you. Two sons!”
Qhuinn gave in immediately, as he was categorically incapable of denying the female anything—most certainly not one of her hugs. They were even better than her lasagna.
God, he loved Blay’s parents. He and Blay had gone to see them a couple of nights after they’d decided to make a go of it, and although Qhuinn had been pants-shitting terrified, the pair of them had been nothing but gracious, relaxed, and…normal.
But Blay hadn’t been aware of the visit Qhuinn had paid the night before, just after nightfall, before they’d hit the club….
As Qhuinn eased back, he caught sight of Layla standing just outside the dining room. Motioning her over, he put his arm around her shoulders, because he could tell she was feeling awkward.
“This is the Chosen Layla.”
“Just Layla,” she murmured as she extended her hand.
In response, Blay’s father bowed deeply, and his mother curtsied.
“Please, that’s not necessary,” the Chosen started, only to relax when the couple immediately dropped the formality.
“My dear, Qhuinn has told us the blessed news.” Blay’s mahmen beamed. “How ever are you feeling?”
Score number two for Blay’s ’rents. Qhuinn couldn’t believe how cool they’d been when he’d shared the news of the pregnancy—and they were just as easygoing as ever as they put Layla at ease.
Man, they had been like this for as long as Qhuinn had known them, uncontaminated by all the glymera’s bullshit, unconcerned by the judgment of the aristocracy, ready to do the right thing at the drop of a hat.
No wonder Blay had come out so well….
“He’s heading over,” V yelled from the pitch-black of the billiards room. “We’ve got to scatter, people—right now.”
“Come with us,” Blay’s mahmen said as she tucked Layla’s arm into her own. “You need to make sure we don’t hit any furniture.”
As they headed off, Layla glanced over her shoulder and beamed. “I’m so excited for you!”
Qhuinn smiled back. “Thanks.”
Cue a moment of nausea, he thought, as he turned and faced the entrance into the mansion.
With the house quiet and the candles still, he waited, feeling numb all over.
Showtime.
Okay, this made no sense, Blay thought as he hotfooted it across the courtyard.
“You look great!” Butch called out from the Pit’s front door.
He still didn’t understand how he’d ended up in a tuxedo. Butch had laid out some kind of story about needing Blay to model the damn thing for Vishous in hopes of getting the guy to buy one. But that was crazy. Butch could have just thrown on one of the four he owned and paraded around himself.
Besides, nobody talked V into anything. The Brother was as unpersuadable as a rock.
Whatever—he just wanted to get this over with so he could head back upstairs—and hopefully find Qhuinn still in bed.
As he bounded up the stairs to the grand entrance of the mansion, his slick shoes made the salt crackle like a fire, and as soon as he got inside the vestibule, he stamped his feet so the glossy leather didn’t get ruined. Putting his face into the security camera, he—
The door opened, and at first he didn’t know what he was looking at. Everything was dark—no, that wasn’t true. There was candlelight glowing in every corner of the foyer, reflecting off the gold of the balustrade, and the chandeliers, and the mirrors….
Qhuinn was standing in the middle of the great space. Alone.
Blay walked through the threshold on feet that he couldn’t feel.
His lover and his best friend was dressed in the most beautiful tuxedo Blay had ever seen—then again, that was less about the garment, more about the male who was wearing it: The black jacket set off his spiked hair, the white of the shirt made the male’s tanned skin look luminous, and the cut…was a reminder of how perfect that warrior body was.
But that wasn’t what really got to him.
It was those mismatched eyes, the blue and the green, that glowed so beautifully they put the votives to shame. Qhuinn seemed nervous, though, his hands fidgeting, his weight going back and forth in a pair of shiny shoes.
Blay walked forward, stopping when he was in front of the fighter. And even as his brain started to churn over what all this meant, and began to come to some crazy conclusions, he had to grin like crazy. “You put your piercings back in.”
“Yeah. I just…I wanted to make sure you knew this was me, you know.”
As Qhuinn fingered the neat row of gunmetal gray hoops that ran up his ear, Blay leaned in and kissed those lips—and the hoop that was once again in the lower one. “Oh, I know it’s you. It’s all you—but I’m glad they’re back. I love them.”
“Then they’re never getting taken out.”
In the beat of silence that followed, Blay thought, Oh, God…was this really…maybe he’d misconstrued—
Qhuinn got down on one knee. Just dropped right onto the depiction of an apple tree in full bloom.
“I don’t have a ring. I don’t have anything fancy in my mind or on my tongue.” Qhuinn swallowed hard. “I know this is too early, and that it’s out of the blue, but I love you and I want us to—”
For once in his life, Blay had to agree with the guy—enough with the fucking talking.
With a decisive shift of his body, he leaned down and kissed all that conversation right into silence. Then he pulled back and nodded. “Yes. Yes, absolutely, yes…”
With an explosive curse, Qhuinn came up off the floor and they wrapped their arms around each other. “Thank fuck. Oh, man, I’ve been having a heart attack for days—”
All at once, the sound of clapping erupted, filling the foyer’s three-story space, echoing around.
People streamed out of the darkness, all kinds of smiling faces, and happy—
“Mom? Dad?” Blay laughed. “What are you—hey, how are you?”
As he embraced his parents, his father said, “He did it properly. He asked me first.”
Blay’s head whipped around to his mate. “Really? You asked my dad?”
Qhuinn nodded, then started to smile like a motherfucker. “It’s my one and only shot. So I wanted to follow protocol. Can we cue the music?”
Instantly, everyone backed away, their collective bodies forming a circle on the edges of the light, and as they settled in, strains of something very familiar bled out into…
Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.”
Qhuinn held his hand out. “Dance with me? In front of everyone…be mine, and dance with me.”
Blay started to blink fast. On some level, this gesture seemed like a bigger deal than the mating proposal: in front of God and everybody. The two of them. Linked heart to heart.
“Like I’m going to say no?” he whispered hoarsely.
Except just as their bodies met, he hesitated. “Wait…who leads?”
Qhuinn smiled. “That’s easy. We both do.”
On that note, they held each other close, started moving together in perfect harmony…
…and lived happily ever after.