“Any excuse to touch Gucci,” Gretchen said. All of Theo’s clothes were either designer or beautifully tailored, and he always looked like he’d just walked out of a cologne ad; Gretchen could never get over how soft all his jackets felt. “I was just thinking about how you’re going to be a great dad.”
“I hope so. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“You’re a dragon, and you’re scared of babies?”
“I’m not scared of them in general,” Theo said, with just a trace of draconian haughtiness. “I want this one, obviously. I just don’t ever want to be a disappointment.”
He was so sincere that it broke her heart a little. Gretchen decided to give his worries plenty of cushioning for right now and not remind him that all kids inevitably found their parents disappointing sometimes—terminally uncool and unbelievably unfair. Even a devoted idealist and a princely dragon shifter US Marshal couldn’t escape that trap.
“You’ll be great,” Gretchen said. “I’ll teach you everything I know about diapers, baby bottles, and crying kids.”
“Jillian’s been pumping Aria for advice for the last half hour,” Theo said. Aria was their teammate Colby’s mate, a vibrant, funny photographer with a nine-year-old daughter whose cuteness challenged Gretchen’s allegiance to her own nieces and nephews.
“Then between me and Aria, you two will have this down. And Tiffani will always be around to help out. She’s the best step-grandmother anybody could hope for.”
Then she noticed Theo had stopped listening to her. A look of barely-controlled horror had taken over his face.
“What is it? I’ve never seen you look like that before. You got the spider infestation out of the filing cabinet without looking like that. It’s not Tiffani, is it?”
“It’s Keith,” Theo said under his breath. “And don’t remind me of that filing cabinet. I saw things there I can never unsee.”
“You invited Keith?”
“He’s a member of our team now. It would have been rude not to include him.”
Being rude was Theo’s worst nightmare. Usually, Gretchen appreciated that about him. This one time, though, she wished he’d just said to hell with it and left Keith Ridley off the guest list.
Keith had just joined their team a few weeks ago. He was a new Marshal, and he hadn’t been in law enforcement before this job. It showed.
More accurately, he hadn’t been in any jobs before this job, and it showed. Even a high school job scooping ice cream would have taught him more about the world than he seemed to know. The guy just didn’t know how to deal with people.
Like Theo, Keith had been raised in a removed little society that had had very little do with the outside world. But unlike Theo, he hadn’t broken away from it because its sense of superiority had rankled his own ideas of right and wrong. He had been sent out into the world as a kind of tribute, a present from the unicorns to the rest of them.
Gretchen kind of wondered if they could regift him.
He was stiff, rude, and self-righteous. No witness felt like they could trust him, and no friend or family member of a fugitive would ever decide to help him out.
Also, he was kind of a pill. He was absolutely the last person you’d want at your party, and no one but Theo would have ever invited him.
“You know he reported Colby for running a March Madness bracket,” Gretchen said. “A measly five-dollars-per-person, just-for-fun office pool, and Keith went over Martin’s head to turn Colby in for gambling. And my bracket totally would have won, too.”
“And now he’s headed straight for us,” Theo said. “Brace yourself.”
But before Gretchen needed to, a hand fell on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Martin, who looked unmistakably grim.
Gretchen started to make a joke about how he looked like he’d already had to talk to Keith, but then she shut up: Martin’s expression had her genuinely worried. His mate, Tiffani, was Jillian’s beloved stepmother. Martin should have been ecstatic at having a grandkid on the way, and instead he looked like he needed to face a firing squad.
“What’s up, chief?”
Martin shook his head. “Not here—let’s go outside. I don’t want to spoil the celebration. Sorry about this, Theo. You and Jillian deserve better than having work crash your party.”
“It can’t be helped,” Theo said magnanimously. “Do you just need Gretchen? I can intercept Keith.”
“Keith’s here?” Martin said. “Why?”
“That’s what I was saying,” Gretchen said.
“Intercept away,” Martin said to Theo. “And thanks.”