Primal (Wrong Side of the Tracks 2)

Dane bit the inside of his cheek, but despite the surge of embarrassment, heat dashed to his heart, making him feel sweet and mellow. “He’s been very excited about you coming over for the first time. Make sure to compliment the chandelier in the dining room,” he said, because the contraption of wine bottles and aluminum was a source of great pride for Jag.

“Ooh! Did he make it himself?” Dad asked.

Jag waved at them, rushing off the roof and down the ladder at the side of the building.

“Yeah,” Dane said, but he was already smiling as he parked in front of the building by the future vegetable patch. He and Jag had huge plans when it came to being partially self-sustainable, and while that dream was in its infancy and had only just been kickstarted with a single greenhouse where Dane had planted some tomatoes, they’d do their best to transform their entire garden into a source of food.

He slid out of the seat and smiled at his mate.

Jag was flustered when he gave Dane a quick kiss and greeted his parents. “Are the kids not coming?” he asked, adorably disappointed that he might not get to play the puppy tonight.

Jag got the answer to his own question when the second car drove into view. He waved at the girls, who squealed so loudly Dane could hear them from beyond the fence.

“I’m so excited to show you around our house,” Jag said to Dane’s parents. “I want to reassure you that I’m taking great care of your son.”

Dane bit the inside of his cheek, because Jag’s view on relationships was a topic he’d discussed with his family with a great deal of embarrassment. But the only one to tease him about it had been Mark, who, as a teenager, was excused when it came to a bit of brattiness. They all knew Dane was the one to earn actual money, but Jag’s resourcefulness and the ability to live in the junkyard at a very low cost meant that Dane could keep helping his family out without issue. And while Jag wasn’t necessarily the breadwinner of their little home, he was doing a fantastic job as a life partner.

“Oh, Dane keeps telling us of all the improvements you made to the house,” Dad said, using his white cane to find the path despite Mom walking close enough to guide him.

Jag nodded. “Yes, we have water available all the time now. In the future, I’m planning to build a bridge from the top of the house into the forest across the street, so there’s no risk of a car accident.”

Not that there was much traffic here, but Jag was adamant about this safety measure, so Dane didn’t try to dissuade him.

The girls spilled out of the car in a flurry of yelps and screeches that instantly caught Jag’s attention, and he ran over to greet them.

“He also cooked for you today,” Dane said in a hushed tone. “It’s very good, but you might need extra salt.”

Jag rolled onto the ground as the three girls descended on him, making high-pitched squeaks. Smiling at the joyful scene, Dane led his parents and Mark inside their little home, which smelled divinely of the rabbit stew Jag had been making since morning.

Considering the gender role obsession that had annoyed Dane so much at the start of their relationship, it was funny that Jag took care of most of the female-coded household tasks, which he considered survival skills like any other. Dane wasn’t about to dare suggest otherwise, even jokingly.

What mattered was that this setup worked for them both and allowed Dane to take on extra jobs.

“Jag, come over, they want to see the house!” Dane called, because otherwise Jag might forget time was a thing and keep playing with Dane’s sisters until they were all too tired to move.

Fortunately, the prospect of boasting about the home they’d created was enough of an incentive, and he got up, smiling as he stroked Alyssa’s hair. “Everyone ready for rabbit stew?”

Mark blinked and stared at Dane with his lips pressed together, but the girls howled their excitement like a bunch of tiny wolves in human skin. It was a habit they must have picked up from their new favorite uncle, and Dane wasn’t sure what his parents would make of it, but they both smiled, and Mom patted Dane’s back.

“He’s so good with kids. Are you sure you don’t want to adopt one day?” she asked.

Dane shrugged, chuckling as he glanced Jag’s way, meeting his golden-green gaze. Jag put Dane’s youngest sister on his shoulders and marched toward them, with the two other girls running around him like puppies.

He was so very lovable. Dane’s perfect beast.

“We’ll see what the future brings,” Dane said and, when Jag stepped closer, sealed his thoughts with a soft kiss on his man’s lips.