Ryan couldn’t help but to be astonished by how quickly time passed. He supposed he was lucky he had only been involved in this entire mess in a sideways sort of manner. He wasn’t the worried father or the traumatized son.

Work resumed as usual, though progress was slow because his clients weren’t the subtlest of people. They knew the stories, had seen the reports on the news. He wasn’t quite sure how reporters could get such pictures of him and everyone else involved, and he damn sure wasn’t pleased about it, but the pictures were definitely out there. Everyone who knew him knew that he had been out there driving around one of the people at the forefront of the mystery. And since humans are naturally so curious, they asked questions.

They asked questions he didn’t want to answer, pushing for details that they had no right to know. He had to constantly try to reign them back in, though they actively resisted his tactics. Usually the sort of man who scheduled enough extra time for appointments so that the clients could decide when they were done, now he found himself cutting these sessions short on his own. He hated to do it, but there was only so much of the third degree a guy could take from people who had no right asking him anything.

The worst part was that their interest made sense, in a way. They were divorcing couples, or couples who had already been divorced but were now reevaluating their old contract. Because Arden and Dylan were divorced, the clients felt that this similarity was enough to warrant an interrogation.

It wasn’t.

But time passed and he saw very little of Dylan, aside from texts or phone calls. Their plans never seemed to quite match up, and neither of them knew how to take the next step to remedy that. Even though they had gone similar days and weeks without seeing each other before, now Ryan was acutely aware of every hour that passed. It hurt him to think that this was the way Dylan felt for so many years, and he so desperately wanted to move on to the next stage of their lives.

Unfortunately, the main obstacle was Hunter.

It was pretty damn impossible to just show up in the kid’s life and declare himself a part of it. He and Dylan could have attempted to go on dates, but Dylan was understandably reluctant to leave his son alone with a babysitter, no matter who that person might be. Besides, Hunter’s time at school and his new bi-weekly therapy sessions were very difficult to work around. Dylan had withdrawn from his place of business, setting up a temporary office in his bedroom, but Ryan didn’t have that luxury.

So the weeks passed with no progress at all, and they could only wait for something to happen to spur them onward. A month went by. The fierce temperatures evened out slightly, but the difference was only notable in that the weather now brought wet cold in the form of ice and snow. Traffic became even more of a hassle than before. Vehicles were always sliding into other vehicles, or getting stuck in place. The whole city of Portsmouth seemed to be in a state of standstill, including its rivers, which were covered in a thin sheen of ice for several feet across the water when measuring from the bank outwards.

Then, the thing everyone had been waiting for finally happened.

Ryan stood in the driveway, scattering ice melt like handfuls of birdseed for the umpteenth time in so many days. He could practically hear the chemical reaction taking place, which was both satisfying and unnerving at the same time.

Suddenly, a soft buzzing sound broke through the faint hissing. Ryan set the bucket of ice melt down with a heavy thump, then reached into his pocket. His flip phone was notifying him for all it was worth, though he could tell that the chunk of cheap electronics was nearing its final days.

Powder clinging to his fingertips smudged the silver casing, hiding the number of who was calling him, but the mystery was solved when he opened it and looked at the screen. Dylan’s image was there.

Ryan leaned one hip against his truck and answered the call. “Hello?” His voice came out husky and a bit uncertain, something he hated but which he seemed not to have any control over these days. Though by now he considered it unlikely that anything was going to happen, he really wished it would. These calls always left him tense, as a result.

“Hey, Ryan. You busy today?”

He tilted his head back and mentally assessed the question. He was always busy. But was he busier today than usual? “I’ve got a couple meetings in a little bit and then I was going to head out for a late lunch. Something wrong?”

His tone made it clear that he would drop everything if he was asked to.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Dylan sighed into the phone, a heavy gust of breath. “It’s just that someone here has decided he finally wants to go outside and nothing is going to stand in his way.”

Ryan remembered playing in the snow as a kid, plunging into drifts and scaring the shit out of his parents when they couldn’t find him. Being a white wolf, he blended in perfectly.

“So, are you going to take him to the park?”

“Yes. I was...wondering if you wanted to come with us? It’d be more fun freezing my ass off if you were there, too.”

This wasn’t exactly what he’d envisioned, but it was a chance he couldn’t pass up. “I’d love to come. Do you think he’ll wait until the afternoon?”

“He’d better. If I don’t show up, you can safely deduce that I’ve gone crazy.”

Despite the complaints, Ryan detected quite a bit of happiness in Dylan’s tone. His son wanted to act like a kid again, and that was a damn fine thing.

They spent a bit more time together on the phone, solidifying the last details before hanging up and going about their separate ways. Ryan finished defrosting his driveway and headed to his office to meet with his clients. The proceedings for the day went relatively smoothly for what it was worth, though Ryan knew he wasn’t exactly operating at peak performance. He kept thinking about the upcoming “date” at the park.

Eventually, his second meeting wound down and he could escape from the office with time to spare. He was just on his way out when a thought occurred to him, and he went back inside.

His secretary glanced up at him as he reentered. “That was a quick lunch.”

“Lunch? Hell, it’s tomorrow. You worked straight through the night, Nicole.”

She laughed politely. They worked well enough together, though they weren’t exactly friends and probably never would be. “I hope I’ll get paid for all of that.”

“You will if you let me steal some of your own lunch.”

Nicole was a bit of a health nut. Ryan had no idea what she considered herself. He’d heard the lecture a few times but the exact details just never seemed to stick around, and so he just didn’t know whether she was sugar-free, gluten-free, vegan, paleo, or what. However, the woman ate like a rabbit, and she tended to snack all day on the most uncomfortably healthy foods Ryan had ever seen. As a result, the mini fridge they kept around tended to look like they’d robbed a farmer’s market.

Privately, he thought this might be one reason Nicole was a bit high-strung.

“Uh, why?”

“I’m going on a date with a five-year-old, and I can only assume he’s going to want to make a snowman. I don’t exactly have time to stop by Walmart and pick up a bag of coal and some carrots.”

Nicole smiled and this time it seemed a little warmer than he was used to from her. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got carrots. Help yourself.”

Ryan grinned at her. “I’d be lost without you.”

She went back to working on the papers she had spread out on her desk. “I know.”

Ryan retrieved a handful of baby carrots and a bunch of grapes from the fridge. These, he shoved into his pockets until they were bulging, and then he headed to the park.

Portsmouth City Park was very large, and thus it had the honor of being the one that the city claimed as its most popular landmark. It was divided into many sections, fulfilling a variety of roles so that no person could ever be bored no matter how picky he might be. There were the usual football fields and baseball diamonds, but there was also a pool, several gardens and the round walking/running paths that spiraled through them, open fields filled with donated trees, wooded areas, and even a long section which jutted out by the water. And, of course, there were several ponds and a fountain.

It was at this very park that Ryan himself had set up the monthly pack meetings, though at this time of year those meetings were all but nonexistent because of how damn cold it was. The pavilion where the wolf pack gathered was near one of the large stands of trees, well out of the way in a section of the park where very few others dared to tread.

He didn’t expect to be going there, and he didn’t.

The park was thriving even at such a time of year as this. He supposed romantic, cuddling walks were popular, but he saw more teens and children than he did adults.

Seems like Hunter wasn’t the only one who had this idea.

Driving by the parking lot, Ryan passed Dylan’s car and parked next to him. Dylan was nowhere to be seen and neither was Hunter, but a set of two footprints—both small, but with one much smaller than the other—trailed away from the car and across the field. Ryan followed the tracks, managing not to lose it even in places where it passed others.

As the waterfront came into view, Ryan saw them.

Two humans, one large and one small, chasing each other through the snow. The light reflecting off the clean white of the snow seemed to make them both glow.

Dylan noticed him before Hunter did, and stopped in his tracks. Hunter immediately ran into his legs from behind and went rolling away, tossing up clouds of white.

“Hey! Don’t you think you’ll be cold?”

Ryan glanced down at himself as Dylan gestured at what he was wearing. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was still dressed in his work suit and tie. In the middle of the park, he looked like a businessman whose plane had crashed in the tundra. He was out of his element.

And really, the weather was quite bothersome. His suit was made of very fine material, though it wasn’t exactly designer quality, and the wind sliced right through. However, looking at Dylan, and at Hunter making a clumsy snow angel, Ryan felt very warm indeed.

“No,” he replied truthfully. “I think I’m good.”

Dylan’s oceanic eyes warmed over with gentle pleasure. “Okay, then. Honey, why don’t you say hi to...to Uncle Ryan?”

Hunter sat up, then stood. He was smiling, but his eyes were solemn, in stark contrast to his youthful nature. He was bundled up in at least three thick layers of clothing, which all added up to impede his movement. Ryan doubted if the boy could put his arms down by his sides.

“Hi, Uncle Ryan,” Hunter said obediently. He pointed. “What’s in your pockets?”

Dylan laughed suddenly. “More importantly, why is one of your pockets turning blue?”

Ryan glanced down at his suit pants. Sure enough, a few splotches of color were seeping through his pocket from the inside out. He’d have called the color more purple than blue, but there was no doubt in his mind that the origin was a burst grape. It would barely be noticeable, but it’d be a bitch to get the stain out.

But despite that, all he could do was laugh. “I thought you might like to make a snowman or two, so I brought noses and eyes and mouths.”

Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a handful of produce to show them. Hunter’s eyes went wide as if he’d just seen a magic trick, but Dylan couldn’t keep from laughing again. “It looks more like you brought snacks.”

“I guess you could eat these if you want to have sad, eyeless snowmen.”

Hunter looked down at the snow and kicked one foot through a nearby drift. “It’s all powder. Tommy says a good snowman is made of wet snow.”

“Is Tommy a snowman expert?” Dylan asked.

“No, but his big brother is! He wins contests!”

There were snowmen contests? The world had just gotten a little bit stranger.

“Anyway,” Hunter continued, “I don’t think this snow is wet enough.”

“Pee on it,” Ryan advised. “It’ll get wetter.”

“Ryan!” Dylan held out one hand to Hunter, whose contemplative look at the snow had grown in intensity. “Don’t tell him things like that! He’ll do it!”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he said, but his apology went unheard. However, that was probably for the best because Hunter had already resumed making snow angels. Soon enough, there was an army of angels large enough to take on even mankind’s worst sins.

Watching the child run around and flop in the snow, Ryan felt a tugging from deep inside his chest. And there was another tugging, one located in a distinctly separate part of himself. Dylan was pulling on his arm.

Ryan looked at him and blinked, startled at what he was seeing. Dylan looked like a man bearing bad news, and that put Ryan on edge. “What is it?”

“I have something to tell you,” Dylan replied. He looked away, regarding the silvery water a short distance away. “And you have to promise that you’ll...that you won’t do anything rash.”

Uh-oh.

But, he could take it. He had to take it. So, he kept his gaze fixed on his best friend. “I’m ready. What’s on your mind, Dilly?”

For a moment, Dylan said nothing. And then he sighed. “I’m pregnant.”

The word seemed to have no meaning. It was only a sound, though an astonishing one nonetheless. It was too large to have only one meaning, to be confined to a single purpose.

Dylan was pregnant?

“Oh,” was all Ryan could manage.

“It’s yours,” Dylan added.

Ryan barked out a helpless laugh even though he was by no means amused. Of course it was his. He didn’t know anyone else who Dylan was sleeping with at the moment, so that left only him. But damn, what a mess. What a terrible, horrible mess of a situation. They had only just barely begun to discover their feelings for each other, and they hadn’t figured out anything more about where they were to go from here. And now here was a pregnancy announcement, adding just another layer of stress on top of everything else. When was it going to be too much? When were they going to break and give in? Except, that wasn’t even an option now because all the secrets had been laid out in the open. There was no going back to the way things were before, no pretending that this wasn’t happening.

“I see,” Ryan said. “Does Hunter know?”

“No.” Dylan shook his head. He went back to watching his son, who was now trying without much success to craft a snowball. “He’s got so much to deal with already. I have no idea where we’d even begin.”

“Hell, I have no idea where to begin. Dylan...” Ryan turned to him. His heart felt like it was on the verge of jumping right out of his chest. “This isn’t the best time.”

Dylan bristled and rounded on him, showing a flash of pointed fangs in warning. “Well, guess what, Mr. Lawyer? It’s never going to be a good time. The future is here, and I’ve got to tell you, it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever known. I’m just as fucking clueless as you are! But this...this baby isn’t going to wait for you to make up your goddamned mind.” His ocean eyes were tsunamis, crashing with unbridled fury. Ryan felt each impact distinctly, almost knocking him over again and again.

“Make up your mind, Ryan. Right here and now. I love you, and I’ll always love you, just like I always have. But I...I can live without you. I’ve proved that. If this isn’t the life you want, just walk away.”

Ryan looked into those fierce eyes, seeing the omega that had fought tooth and claw for his pup, battling in a way no alpha could dare dream to. He saw a sweet, sensitive man who carried far too much weight on his shoulders, who stayed proud and whole despite all he had been subjected to.

And then Ryan looked over at Hunter, who was a product of his loins and resembled him so greatly.

Then, he regarded Dylan’s flat stomach, which was showing no sign at all of what it presumably contained. However, there was another of his offspring developing there, so small as to be invisible.

And it was like a light went on inside him, and he knew that he could never survive without this. It wasn’t that he felt like he had a commitment to keep, like he was obligated to continue because of what they had already gone through. No, it was more than that. He had been a changed man ever since seeing Dylan in the well, and it was time to make that change a reality.

Ryan wrapped his arms around Dylan and pulled his best friend deep into his arms so their bodies were flush together. No chilled wind could ever force itself between them.

Dylan didn’t hesitate, lifting his arms to hold onto Ryan’s neck. He squeezed tightly and leaned in, then lay his cheek against Ryan’s shoulder. His breath was faintly warm in the face of so much cold, but the heat was enough to fill Ryan to the brim. His soul felt light, despite being fully entwined with another’s.

Ryan leaned his head down and kissed Dylan’s forehead. “You won’t ever have to be without me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I was so scared,” Dylan admitted. He clung on tighter, his words muffled against Ryan’s chest. “All the time nothing was happening, and I thought it never would. I love you.”

Those three little words would have caused confusion in a lesser man but Ryan already made his decision and he wouldn’t back down from what was in his heart. “I want to be with you. My best friend and my mate. I...I love you.””

Suddenly, both men felt pressure and looked down in unison. Hunter was standing before them, trying to force his way between them.

“What’s up, buddy?” Ryan asked, moving his leg to make room.

“I want hugs, too!”

Dylan smiled, his eyes misting over with emotion. He bent down and lifted his son into his arms, then hugged him tightly. Hunter accepted the hug and returned it in kind before wiggling back down again.

“Can we make a snowman now?”

As it turned out, they couldn’t, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Tommy’s snowman artist big brother had been correct when he said that a wetter snow was necessary. The stuff they were dealing with right now was fine and powdery, not much good for sticking together. A classic three-ball stacked snowman was out of the question.

They made snowpiles, instead. Snowblobs. The technique for doing so was very simple. A person only had to scoop up all the snow in a small area and mold it into a loosely-mounded shape. Carrot noses and grape eyes were then implanted into the “faces” of these amorphous blobs.

The three of them quickly discovered that snowblobs took up a lot of their produce supplies, so they devised another technique of biting grapes in half and using nibbled pieces of carrot as substitute when the situation called for it.

The end result was an army of snowblobs, even larger than the army of crippled snow angels. Hunter stepped back to observe his handiwork.

Feeling mischievous, Ryan turned and stared at Dylan until the other man felt his gaze and turned. He made sure that Hunter couldn’t see from this angle, then produced one of the last whole baby carrots from his pocket. This he placed jutting upright from the base of one of their pitiful snowmen, followed by a grape on either side. Then, he looked at Dylan and raised his eyebrows.

Dylan promptly shoved a handful of snow down the back of his suit.

Ryan yelped and jumped up, shaking to try and loosen the cold mass even while it melted all down his back. Freezing water tickled at the top of the cleft of his ass, a truly torturous experience.

And then his legs were knocked out from underneath him by the force of a small body attacking him. He could have regained his balance, but he let himself fall anyway, expecting the snow to cushion him from the full brunt of Hunter’s attack. He was wrong, as falling onto snow—and water, for that matter—is equal to falling on regular concrete. Breath exploded from his lungs with the impact, and the cold seeping into him was enough to keep it away. For a moment, all he could do was lie there on his back, looking up at the gray, overcast sky.

Then, he was pounced on by Hunter, who sat on his chest and proceeded to stuff snow inside his suit exactly as his father had.

Dylan stood by with a grin on his face, watching this very uneven battle. He leaned over so that Ryan would be able to hear him through his cries of chilly anguish. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick. Try not to die while I’m gone.”

Ryan dramatically lifted one hand as Dylan walked away. “No!” he cried. “Don’t leave me! This brute of a killer...” But he didn’t get to finish what he was saying because Hunter nonchalantly stuck a handful of snow in his mouth.

He writhed underneath the pup, eventually managing to dislodge him. Hunter toppled over into the snow and flailed like a turtle, trying to get up.

Ryan held him down calmly with one hand. “Now it’s your turn,” he growled.

“No!” Hunter squeaked. He kicked and waved his arms but didn’t seem inclined to actually try and escape.

Already imagining the sweetness of revenge, Ryan picked up a handful of snow. Just then, he heard the crunch of footsteps in snow coming from behind him. “You’re just in time to see your son get what he deserves.”

“Well, he’s not my son,” a stranger’s voice said. “And I don’t think he’s yours either.”

Ryan turned around, puzzled, only to hit his face against something soft and yet firm that had been shoved towards him. Growling, he shoved it away but the stranger just brought it back to the same place again.

What the hell is going on?

He drew back and looked at what was in his face. It was a microphone. The sight of it made his stomach tremble, as he understood immediately what was happening. Through some miraculous fluke or another, he had managed to avoid the attention of most of the paparazzi. Dylan hadn’t said much about it either, though Ryan knew that he had been approached several times in a rather cordial manner, by TV producers who wanted to hear the story of the Boy Who Was Stolen and the journey to get him back. Dylan turned all these down and that seemed to be the end of it all.

Until now, of course.

The person looking down at him was clearly a reporter. He was dressed like one, though Ryan would be hard-pressed to say exactly what it was that made him think that. There was just a sort of fussy air about the man, especially in the way he pulled his faux-fur coat tighter around his shoulders and shivered. White clouds puffed from between his lips whenever he breathed.

Ryan held up one hand, stopping the reporter from saying anything else. With the other, he nudged Hunter gently behind him. The pup was still giggling, but the sound had become uncertain and hesitant as he picked up on the tension. Small arms wrapped around Ryan’s leg for support. “No interviews. No comment. Sorry.”

“Where’s Mr. Johnson?” the reporter pressed. “Where’s his father? I need his permission to ask a few questions.”

“You won’t get it,” Ryan growled. He kept one hand out so that Hunter stayed behind him. “I’m telling you to go.”

“Sorry but you don’t have the veto power,” the reporter said. “You’re just a babysitter right now. I need to speak with Mr. Johnson. Where is he? Why are you taking care of his son? Isn’t he worried that something else bad will happen if he leaves his child out of sight?”

This was all going downhill in a very rapid manner. Ryan lowered his head, his growl deepening in intensity. The microphone waving around in his face, following his every movement, was meant to distract him, to get him annoyed so that he would forget himself and say something which he would regret. This reaction would be recorded by the small camera the reporter held in his other hand, cupping it carefully in his palm so that it was almost hidden from view. With video evidence to back up whatever the reporter chose to take from this altercation, Ryan couldn’t afford to lose his temper.

So he held himself back by sheer force of will, breathing deeply of the icy air to maintain control. “Look,” he said. “No comment.”

If he even so much as mentioned that Dylan was bound to return from the bathroom in only a few short moments, the reporter would switch focus and head there. However, that wasn’t a solution because Ryan knew that reporters were foul beasts with no respect for other people. This man would barge right in with his camera and maybe catch a glimpse of Dylan’s dick accidentally on purpose, and then that would be all over the news with a misleading title. Because, as Ryan knew from his work, the truth could be told in such a way that it was almost a lie.

“Well, I’m sure you won’t mind if I wait?”

Ryan folded his arms, feeling the damp slush of snow seeping in through the material of his suit. “Actually, I do mind.”

“Well, it’s a public park. You can’t really stop me from standing here in the same spot as you.”

I could bring up the harassment card.

But, he doubted that would work. Though it was technically harassment, it wasn’t actually harassment of a sort that could be prosecuted. Even the most trigger-happy of law enforcers would call this an unpleasant conversation and leave it at that.

“Fine,” Ryan growled. “Then we’ll just wait. Hunter...Hunter?”

He intended to tell the boy to get back to his playing, that there was nothing bad happening here. The reporter had no legal authority to use the footage of Hunter playing around but Ryan half-hoped he would, despite the violation of privacy that came with it. Let the doubters in the country know that he was bouncing back from the events more than a month ago.

But Hunter wasn’t there. Ryan’s hands contacted only empty air, his leg growing cold where the pup had been clinging to him previously. It was like an icepick jabbed him in the heart, robbing his breath. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Hunter was...just gone.

And then a tiny voice said, “You leave us alone! You big bully!”

Ryan turned just in time to witness a snowball—distinctly yellow—sail through the air and splatter against the side of the reporter’s face.

He didn’t. Did he?

He had. Hunter’s fly was open and there was a patch of yellow snow nearby, which he was already grabbing at to form another snowball. The reporter turned, mouth opened to offer some form of reprimand, but it was too late. Despite his youth, Hunter looked absolutely furious. The kid had gone through so much lately, pushed around by adults with no say in the matter, and he was fighting back.

A surge of pride stole through Ryan at the fire in the pup’s eyes. He was feisty, exactly like Dylan.

“Uncle Ryan said go!” Hunter shouted. He let the projectile fly with astonishing accuracy, hitting the reporter right in the mouth. A look of surprise stole across the man’s features. His tongue flicked out, instinctively. Nothing happened for a second and then a look of horror stole across his face.

“Oh, fuck!” Gagging, the reporter spat on the ground and reeled away, wiping at his tongue with his hands. He dropped his camera as he went and seemed to seriously debate on leaving it behind, before snatching it out of the snow and hurrying away.

Ryan leaned down and picked up Hunter, pulling the boy into his arms. Hunter scowled after the reporter and growled.

“Way to show him, buddy,” Ryan murmured.

“Ryan?”

Turning, he saw Dylan hurrying over in their direction, a look of concern and fierce worry spreading across his face as he took in the scene. Ryan didn’t know how much the other man had seen. He couldn’t imagine coming back and seeing this, the stumbling reporter trying to clean his tongue, the yellow snow, the zipper undone on the front of Hunter’s pants.

Dylan plucked his son from Ryan’s arms, pulling the zipper up while Hunter wiggled. “Daddy!” Hunter chirped. “I scared away a bad man!”

“I can see that.” Dylan spoke slowly. He had a look on his face that spoke of concealed anger, and Ryan knew it was aimed at him. “You did a good job defending Uncle Ryan. But now I need to talk to him alone, okay?”

“Okay!” Emboldened by his own bravery, Hunter slid out of his father’s arms and pranced away through the snow.

Ryan faced Dylan, trying to look bashful when in reality he felt almost as if he could have burst from pride. Dylan just sighed at him, some of the anger fading away. “You know,” he said, “I thought I only had one kid. I didn’t know I was going to have to be responsible for both of you.”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. It kind of happened fast. He got away from me.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t wander off!”

“After what he’s gone through, I don’t think he’ll be doing that anytime soon,” Ryan murmured. “I’m proud of my son.”

Dylan stared at him and then shook his head a little. Ryan knew exactly what he was thinking because he’d had the same thought on numerous occasions. He might be a father, but that didn’t mean he was automatically entitled to anything. It was Hunter’s choice.

Reaching out, he pulled Dylan into his arms. The omega resisted for only a moment before leaning into him, hugging him around the neck. “You know,” he whispered, “despite what just happened, this is fun. It’s the closest I’ve seen him to being his old self. Maybe even better. He never used to like going outside all that much when he could play his video games instead.”

Ryan slid his fingers down Dylan’s back, gently massaging his tense muscles. “I was having fun, too. I...felt almost like we were really bonding. Almost like...”

Almost like I’d actually been active in his life before now.

There was no use dwelling on the circumstances, of which they were both aware. However, Ryan knew that his thought had been heard and that Dylan agreed with him. Maybe it was the bond between parent and child, present even though they had previously been unaware of one another. Maybe it was simply that he was Uncle Ryan in Hunter’s eyes, and uncles tended to be playful jokesters who would let you get away with shit that would make your parents faint. No matter the reason, that tentative bonding had been real.

“Maybe you two should take a day to yourselves sometime. Just the boys,” Dylan suggested quietly. “Really start getting to know each other. So that way when this one comes, we’ll all be ready.”

Ryan thought that was a damn fine idea. He really liked Hunter, and it wasn’t just because the pup reminded him of himself. The kid was just a joy to be around, smart and playful and just a little sassy; he was going to be a real damn special person when he grew up. There was something frightening about the idea of suddenly becoming responsible for more people than just himself, but he was really starting to look forward to it more than he was fearing it. The fact that there was about to be another child in the mix was a little bit scarier, but there was a sort of excitement in it, too. He wanted to get to know his first child, and he wanted to meet the next one as soon as possible.

Soon enough, the rest of Ryan’s time allotted for lunch ran out. Parting ways was almost more difficult than he could bear, but he had been given a glimpse of something special and new that he wouldn’t soon forget.