Page 12 of Pack Plus Three

“Cookies. Cookies are all I want and need.” I laughed. “I ate that last batch so quickly. They were delectable.”

Daisy nodded, a smile breaking out across her face. “I can do cookies!” She turned to the kitchen counter looking at a mixing bowl that once held dough, but now held water. “Well… I was doing cookies.”

I suppressed a grin. She had been making me cookies again?

“We can take a raincheck on those,” I said, nodding at the ruined dough. The oven was also making a peculiar noise, so I switched it off.

She grinned, and burst into laughter. “Thank you!” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me briefly before scampering off to get her things from her bathroom. Scamper may have been the wrong word—it was more of an excited waddle? Whatever it was, it was cute and enthusiastic.

“Are you sure?” she asked again, appearing with a handful of toiletries.

“Dead sure. I just put in a new shower, and the water pressure is amazing. It would be rude to keep it to myself. Just watch out for Gilbert—the fluffy asshole keeps trying to join me in the shower. He’s a water dog and takes every opportunity to get wet and then shakes himself all over the apartment.”

Daisy laughed. “I’ll keep him out of the shower.”

“There are clean towels in the cabinet next to the sink as well. Do you even have any towels left?” I asked with a grin, looking at the towels lining the damp floor.

“I don’t! I didn’t even think of that, thank you. You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?” She beamed at me before leaving to shower.

Lucky? I would have hardly called her lucky; she deserved the world.

Left alone in her apartment, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. Her place was in worse disrepair than mine was when I’d bought it, and that was saying something. My place had barely been fit for human habitation back then.

Daisy had clearly done her best. Every surface was clean, but that didn’t change the peeling wallpaper or the chipped and scratched countertops. A few of the cabinets didn’t even have doors.

Grabbing a few tools, I did a basic patch job on the pipe. It would hold for several months, but the pipes desperately needed replacing . They were all rusted and shockingly brittle.

Daisy needed to live somewhere better. She deserved a home like the one I had with my pack. One with modern fixtures and all the bells and whistles that made life convenient. Personally, I wasn’t too concerned about those things, but she should have had every convenience at her fingertips, especially when she had much more important things to focus on, like growing the tiny human.

The patch took ten minutes and, once I was convinced it wouldn’t leak and would hold up, I got to work cleaning up the kitchen. There was dust and crap that had become dislodged when I had accessed the pipe, and the room was still coated in a thin layer of water.

Grabbing a mop, I got to work, quickly drying the entire room.

Before I jumped back onto the counter to make sure it was drying, I poked my head into the living room. There was a damp smell, and it wasn’t because of the recent indoor rainfall. Her windows were single pane and let in a terrible draft. And I spotted mold in the corners, even though she had clearly tried cleaning it.

The door was a whole other story. The wood was thin, and the lock looked about fifty years out of date. What on earth was she doing? This area wasn’t exactly secure—she should have had her door reinforced, at the very least.

Grumbling to myself, I started rummaging through my toolbox. If memory served, I had something I could use to make Daisy’s home a little bit safer.

Chapter 6

Daisy

Jeremy hadn’t been kidding when he said the water pressure in his bathroom was amazing. Three different showerheads jetted water at my poor, tense back. As I slowly relaxed under the water, I couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful Jeremy’s place was. The bathroom was all marble and sleek black fixtures. The fact that he had done it all himself blew my mind.

Earlier, I’d stood outside of my kitchen for a few moments, looking out at the complete carnage as the room slowly filled with water. What the hell did someone do in a situation like that? The only plumbers who would answer my call would have charged an extortionate amount.

Then I had remembered my stupidly hot neighbor and his offer to help. Mrs. Jenna had told me several times about how he had so kindly helped her with a plumbing issue in the past, and he had seemed pretty adamant that I could ask him for help if I needed it. Mind made up in panic, I had darted over there, despite the late hour. I’d half-expected him to be angry. Instead, he had jumped right into helping. Not only did he fix the issue, but he was letting me use his magical shower while he patched the pipe.

Gilbert had looked downright heartbroken when I didn’t let him into the bathroom with me. I had almost given in, but I didn’t want a soggy dog causing chaos in Jeremy’s apartment. He had already been so nice to me, and that would have been a lousy way to repay him.

I took my sweet time showering, letting my back slowly relax under the hot water. When I finally did extract myself from the spray, I grabbed one of the clean towels, letting out an audible moan as I wrapped myself up. They were fancy towels. Large, soft, and oh so fluffy. My towels were threadbare and scratchy.

Once dry, I threw on my pajamas, grimacing as I realized I had grabbed the T-shirt and shorts that were covered in little rainbows. Why were all my nightclothes so juvenile? Jeremy looked like a sex god sleeping in just his boxers. When he had swung his door open, I’d struggled not to gape at the chiseled planes of his chest on display. I had almost blurted out can I lick it? and only just managed to restrain myself.

I let Gilbert follow me as I waddled back to my apartment. The sweet golden retriever was sticking to my side like glue. I had expected to find Jeremy in my kitchen, patching up the pipe, but instead, he was kneeling behind my front door, screwing something into the frame.

“Erm...what are you doing?” I asked. I didn’t want to be rude, but I had a strong suspicion that my doorframe had nothing to do with my burst pipe.

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