Page 104 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“Take my place, beta. Don’t misbehave in front of visitors.”

The gentle chastisement is humbling and a little condescending, but I still have to keep the Yes, Daddy from popping out of my mouth.

And like before, Trick seems to sense what I wanted to say without me having to voice the words. His gaze is flat but the smile threatens at the corner of his mouth.

The uncomfortable dining chair emphasizes my mood as I submit to the third degree. Trick brings me a cup with my preferred half coffee-half milk and three sugars. He’s silent at the other end of the table while my folks grill me.

Yes, work is going well.

No, I haven’t found a better job yet.

No, I’m not going back to school.

Yes, I understand it’s a good idea to try again.

When I mention the social media posts, of course my mother immediately dismisses it.

“That’s not a career. What happens if the apps shut down? These things are a flash in the pan.”

Trick clears his throat to answer for me. “Actually, we don’t necessarily need to be concerned about reach. I’ve got more than half a million followers on each of my accounts and I rarely post. This is more to feed the fans, post updates, that kind of thing.”

“I suppose that’s something that can be learned. Another temporary position,” King says.

“There’s nothing temporary about it,” Trick says, but there’s an edge to his voice that sets off my anxiety.

“Well, she can’t stay here forever. We’re grateful you gave our girl a place to land, but I’m sure you’ll want to move on soon. I read the news. I know you’re building a pack, son. Once you have an omega, she won’t want another female in her space.”

King takes my mother’s hand on the table and squeezes. Trick doesn’t give an inch, though.

“And we want Izzy. For the social media help. We’re paying generously to keep her. She does an excellent job caring for us.”

He seems to collect himself and resumes in a more mild tone.

“Any omega we invite into our circle will need to contend with all parts of what we do.”

King and Trick stare each other down. Leon and my mother are focused squarely on the brewing dispute between them, but Bennett watches me instead. His face screws up into this minute smirk, and I look the question at him.

Bennett’s always been the most understanding. The most sympathetic. He’s never liked Brad, but that’s because he thinks I need a full pack like they have.

It’s nice for parents to want their children to have what they do, but that doesn’t mean it’s required.

The mudroom door bursts open and there’s a loud rustling of bags.

“Food’s here!” Mason calls out from the kitchen.

“I’ll go help them,” I say quickly and escape the testosterone-fueled glares.

Once in the kitchen, I remove plates from cabinets and add silverware to the pile. Vin stands on the other side of the island, spooning various Chinese food containers into dishes.

Mason traps me against the island with his arms as his hips grind against my ass. He kisses my bare shoulder and I melt into him. The tension locking up my system releases in a single breath.

Vin smiles at us but doesn’t pause in his task.

Bennett clears his throat at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Need help with dinner?” he asks.

The man is 31 years my senior, with glasses tucked into his salt-and-pepper hair, but he’s as astute as he ever was.

---