Page 65 of Sobek’s Joy

Rudy smiled against Sobek’s lips. “Yeah. Together.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Sobek stood in the center of the nursery - the seventeenth version of his preferred layout in the past two weeks - and frowned at the crib placement.

No, it was still wrong. The crib was too far from the door, and a threat could reach the baby before he intercepted.

With a thought, he shifted the crib eight inches to the left. It was much better there. And then the changing table should be closer to the window for natural light, but not directly beneath it where drafts might…

“Sobek.”

He turned to find Rudy leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that expression that meant Sobek was about to be lectured.

“Hi, Sunshine.” Sobek tried a smile.

“Don’t you ‘hi sunshine’ me. What are you doing?”

“I’m just tweaking a few things so that the nursery layout is optimized for maximum safety and efficiency.”

“Uh-huh.” Rudy pushed off the doorframe and crossed to the crib, which now sat at a forty-five-degree angle to the door instead of perpendicular. “And how many times have you ‘optimized’ this room this week?”

“This is only the third time.”

“That’s today. I asked about the week…”

Sobek shifted his weight. “We need to be adequately prepared in all things.”

“The baby won’t be here for seven more months.” Rudy patted the crib railing. “And this furniture has been in five different spots since breakfast. I know because I checked on you after my second trip to pee - pregnancy is glamorous, thanks for asking - and the whole room was rearranged.”

Through their bond, Sobek felt Rudy’s amusement mixed with exasperation. “I’m just making sure…”

“You’re nesting.”

The term made Sobek frown. “I don’t nest. I’m a crocodile god, not a…”

“You’re absolutely nesting.” Rudy crossed the room and took Sobek’s face between his hands. “And it’s adorable, but babe, you need to stop. This nursery is perfect. It’s been perfect since version four.”

Sobek cast his mind back - there had been a lot of variations since version four. “Version seven had superior structural reinforcement.”

“Version seven had a moat.”

“It was only a little moat.”

“It was inside the house. We don’t need a moat.”

Sobek pulled Rudy closer, settling his hands on his mate’s hips. Two months into the pregnancy, Rudy wasn’t showing yet, but Sobek could sense the life growing stronger every day. His crocodile side remained in a constant state of alert, monitoring every heartbeat, every breath, cataloging potential threats, determined to eliminate them before they materialized.

“I just want everything ready,” Sobek admitted quietly.

“I know.” Rudy’s expression softened. “But the baby doesn’t need seventeen different nursery configurations. They need parents who aren’t exhausted from constant renovations. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re banned from changing this room again.”

“Rudy…”

“Banned. No more furniture rearranging, no more color scheme adjustments, no more magical additions. This room is done.” Rudy kissed him firmly. “Okay?”

Sobek opened his mouth to protest, registered the determination flowing through their bond, and sighed. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Rudy glanced around the nursery, which currently featured soft green walls, white furniture, and a mobile of handcrafted wooden animals Sobek had commissioned from a master craftsman in Norway. “It really is beautiful. You did an amazing job.”