Greyson

“Etti!” Marc dropped his paintbrush and raced to Etti as soon as they walked through the door at the Painted Wolf.

He’d been working on his mural of pinup girls again, but when the bell on the door chimed Grey watched a huge grin split Marc’s face.

Grey knew Etti never took time off from work—it was her shop and all—but with everything she’d been through while the hunt was in town, Grey convinced her that the tattoo shop wouldn’t implode if she took a few days to recover and let Marc and Wes be in charge for a bit.

Apparently Marc thought otherwise. “Oh my God! I’m so glad you’re back!” he yelled, throwing his arms around Etti.

Grey smirked at the sudden shock that griped Marc when he realized there seemed to be much more of Etti to hug. The willowy tattoo artist pulled away from Etti quickly and looked down at her stomach in disbelief.

Etti grinned at Marc’s surprise. “So, we have some news,” she said, rubbing her belly with the hand her sparkling engagement ring now rested on.

“Holy shit, batman!” Marc exclaimed. “Did I black out and lose time? Like maybe five months?”

Etti laughed. “No. This is apparently another shifter perk. Short pregnancies.”

“Congratulations?” Marc hedged.

“Thanks,” Grey said, slipping an arm around Etti. “It was a little bit of a shock, but we’re both really happy.”

“And we’re getting married,” Etti added, distracting Marc from her belly with her rings. “I wanted to share the news with you first since you’re basically family.”

Marc beamed and rushed to hug Etti again. “Shit, sorry,” he said stopping to stare at her stomach like it might attack him.

Grey couldn’t help but grin at the jittery tattoo artist. Marc was a great guy. He was one of Etti’s closest friends and had come through for her when she needed his help with the hunt. And now, the endearing, awkward way he was looking at Etti only made Grey like him even more.

“She won’t bite you,” Etti said patting her stomach.

“It’s a girl?” Marc asked. He still looked like a strong wind could blow him over.

“Yep.” Etti seemed to glow when she talked about the baby and it filled Grey with pride.

Etti finally pulled Marc into another hug and he bounced on his toes like a little kid. “This is crazy! And awesome! We’re getting a little Etti!”

Grey laughed and Marc suddenly looked nervous.

“Oh . . . I meant you . . . you’re getting a little Etti,” Marc added apprehensively. “I don’t think she’s mine or anything.” He backed a step away from Etti.

“Relax, Marc. I didn’t think you did,” Grey replied. “I’m glad Etti has a friend like you in her life and our baby’s life.”

Marc’s cheeks reddened, but a smile twitched across his face. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you too, Etti.”

“You do?” she asked.

“Yeah, come on, it’s in the back.”

Grey followed Marc toward the storeroom, but Etti paused when she reached the counter. “What the hell happened to my laptop?” she asked picking up pieces of it that lay scattered on her desk.

“Um . . . Wes,” Marc said, wincing at his friend’s name. “He was in rare form today.”

“I’m gonna kill him!” Etti hissed. “This is coming out of his pay!”

“Then you might want to add the wall repair to his debt too,” Marc added.

Etti narrowed her eyes. “What wall?”

“The one by my booth. Wes decided the wall and the laptop should fight. The wall won.”

Etti looked murderous. “What the hell is his problem?”

“Babe,” Grey said putting a calming hand on the small of her back. “Remember what the doctor said. No stress.”

“I’m guessing Wes wasn’t so happy about your news?” Marc asked.

“Did he say that?” Etti asked, hurt coloring her face.

“Not exactly. But it makes sense now that I see all of this,” Marc said pointing to Etti’s belly. “His face looked like someone used it as a punching bag when he showed up here.” Marc sighed. “We both know he likes to go get himself hurt when he’s pissed.”

“Christ!” Etti yelled. “Why is he such an idiot sometimes? I knew he didn’t agree with my decision, but who I have a baby with and marry is none of his business.”

Marc looked uncomfortable as he pulled at a stray thread in the hem of his tight black t-shirt.

“Where is Wes now?” Grey asked.

Marc shrugged. “Don’t know. He took off after he tried to decapitate me with the laptop. Anyway, here’s your surprise,” Marc said continuing into the back room. He pulled a paint spattered canvas off a gleaming motorcycle. “Seems kinda anticlimactic now,” he muttered. “I can’t compete with a baby or a wedding.”

But Etti squealed, rushing to the bike and running her hands over the glossy metal. “Oh my God! Marc! Are you kidding me? This bike was my first love! I can’t believe you fixed her!”

He blushed. “It was Wes’s idea. He paid for all the parts, I just did the labor.”

“I never thought I’d see her again,” Etti crooned, running her hands along the sleek lines.

Grey eyed the cold metal death trap, suddenly not as grateful for Marc’s friendship. There was no way in hell Grey was letting his pregnant mate ride that thing around. It’d been a miracle that she survived the first wreck. Grey still remembered the debris that had been scattered all over the roadside.

“This is the same bike?” Grey asked, trying to keep his contempt at bay.

“Well, there wasn’t much of her that was salvageable after the wreck.” Marc replied. “I had to rebuild her with mostly new parts. But I saved what I could.”

Etti threw her arms around Marc, “It’s perfect! You are a mechanical wizard!”

Marc’s cheeks glowed scarlet. When Etti released him, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Too bad you won’t be riding her for a while, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Etti asked.

“Um, you’re knocked up, Etti. That doesn’t seem like the best mode of transportation.”

Grey released a breath quietly, thankful Marc had said what he’d been thinking. Etti didn’t take well to being told what she couldn’t do. Grey was just happy he wasn’t the one who said it.

Etti scowled. “Jesus, Marc! I’m not dying. I’m just pregnant.”

“I didn’t say you had to get a minivan, but dude, you could play it a little safer. Besides, I don’t think they make car seats for motorcycles.”

Grey could feel his mate’s wolf pacing. He placed a hand on her back again, rubbing slow strokes down her spine. Poor Marc had already been through Wes’s temper tantrum today. He didn’t need to endure a hormonal shifter too.

“Babe, how ‘bout we go get some dinner. Marc, can we bring you anything?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Wes flaked out on me so it looks like I’m pulling a double here.” He reached for his wallet but Grey held up his hand.

“My treat,” Grey said.

“Oh you don’t have to—”

“I want to, Marc. I haven’t forgotten your help with the hunt.”