Wyatt
Hours later, Wyatt woke to the scent of old sweat, musk, and teak. He pressed his nose to the source of warmth, burying closer. Then he realized he was touching bare skin, that he was naked, and in bed with an alpha.
He sucked down a lungful of air, jerking his head back.
Raph stared down at him, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “Morning?”
Wyatt’s heart thumped. Raph? What is he doing here? “I... wasn’t expecting you.”
“Should I be offended?” But Raph leaned in anyway, pressing a kiss to Wyatt’s forehead. “Hazel knocked a couple of times. I didn’t say anything. Thought I’d let you answer.”
Shit, he’d been sleeping deeply, if he’d missed Hazel. Wyatt scrambled up. The sheets tangled around his legs, and Raph’s bare thighs brushed against his own. It took another moment for him to remember last night, when Raph had tumbled with him in bed, his touch burning across Wyatt’s skin. “I... did not tell Hazel you were sleeping over.”
Raph winced. “Neither did I.”
“Oh, heavens.” Wyatt groaned. Hazel might give him a suspicious look. Or she might be really sweet about it, since she’d taken a liking to Raph yesterday. Wyatt didn’t know—he hadn’t explained a long-lost stepbrother before. Especially not one he was sleeping with.
He sniffed at his skin—magnolia, teak, musk. And a trace of honey. “I smell like sex. And baby. Damn it.”
Raph pressed his nose to Wyatt’s hair, breathing in. “You smell good. I should borrow your shower.”
Wyatt climbed off the bed. Over his shoulder, he found Raph admiring his ass—not the worst thing that could happen. He preened a little, and Raph followed him to the adjoining bathroom. Wyatt couldn’t help watching as Raph strode toward him, sunlight casting his skin in a golden hue.
“Do you have shirts in XL?” Raph asked. “And a toothbrush?”
“I have a spare toothbrush,” Wyatt said, riffling through his bathroom drawer. “Hazel and I went on a road trip up north—there were complimentary toiletries in that one hotel. Here.”
In silence, they brushed their teeth, their eyes meeting through the bathroom mirror. They’d done this a decade ago, too, back when they’d been children. Never naked, though, and never with a baby involved.
Wyatt glanced at his scent gland, wincing at the dried blood that had crusted over it. His belly might have been flat, but there was no way to hide the bonding mark. Not that he could from Hazel, not for long.
“Thought about what you’re gonna say yet?”
“I’m thinking!”
They took turns to wash up. Wyatt waited for Raph to pull on his day-old shirt and jeans; Raph’s shoulders were broader than Wyatt’s, and none of Wyatt’s clothes fit. When they were dressed, Wyatt took a deep breath. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are.” Raph squeezed his hand.
He’d never thought he’d feel trepidation in his own home. But as Wyatt cracked open his bedroom door, his heart thumped. If he thought this difficult with his own daughter, he wasn’t sure how he’d deal with his parents.
Hazel was in the kitchen alone, stirring a bowl of cereal. “Morning, hon.”
She beamed at him, kicking her legs against the kitchen stool. “Morning, Dad.”
He stopped by his daughter, bending to give her a hug. She smelled like soap and shampoo. “What’s new?”
“There’s no more cereal left.” Hazel pouted. “It was my favorite.”
“That’s fine—we’ll get more at the store.” Wyatt pulled out a second stool next to her, settling down. “I didn’t mention it, but Uncle Raph stayed over last night.”
“He did?” Hazel glanced around. “I didn’t see him.”
“I borrowed your dad’s bed.” Raph stepped into the kitchen, waving. “Hey.”
“Oh,” Hazel said. She stirred the cereal, glancing between Wyatt and Raph. “Did you do the sex thing? Aunt Penny said if two people share a room, they’re probably doing the sex thing, but it’s not polite to talk about it.”
Wyatt stared. And his face burned all the way to his hairline. “I...” He coughed. And coughed some more. “We, uh...”
Behind, Raph muttered, “That bitch Penny is such a loudmouth.”
Wyatt glared over his shoulder. “Raph! That’s rude.”
“You shouldn’t let Aunt Penny hear you,” Hazel whispered loudly. “She gets pissy if you say bad things about her.”
Raph shrugged. “She’s my sister. I call her whatever I want.”
Wyatt didn’t know if he wanted to laugh, or cry. To Hazel, he said, “How did you even know that about Penny?”
Hazel crunched on some cornflakes. “Last week, I told her that her dress was ugly. She got kind of mad at me.”
Raph snorted, setting last night’s wine back in the cupboard. “I like you, kid. You speak your mind.”
Hazel beamed. “So is this like the movies where I get both of you together and we’ll have a happily-ever-after?”
Was a happily-ever-after even possible for people like them? Wyatt leaned into the table, his shoulders sagging. “It isn’t that simple, honey. We’ve discussed this before, haven’t we? You marry people outside your family. Uncle Raph is my stepbrother.”
Hazel slurped a spoonful of milk, watching Raph. And Raph returned to Wyatt’s side, his hand slipping over Wyatt’s shoulders. A touch that said, I’m here.
Wyatt’s heart kicked. He was grateful for Raph’s presence. Raph had been comfortable against him last night, his touch soothing as Wyatt slept. Raph didn’t even comment on the state of the kitchen—the taped photos on the walls, the chipped bowls that Wyatt had retired from the drive-in. At least the counters and stove top were clean.
“But you marry people you love, don’t you?” Hazel asked, her eyes bright and curious. “Why is it so wrong to marry my dad?”
Wyatt glanced at Raph. He hadn’t an answer to this question, either.
Raph dragged a third stool out, settling by Wyatt’s other side. He set his hand on Wyatt’s thigh, and held it there—he wanted to keep that connection between them. Max had never done that with Wyatt. None of the other alphas had.
“Because it’s been proven that children born between siblings may lead to birth defects. Wy and I aren’t related by blood, though.”
“So you can marry him?” Hazel peered
