Page 27 of Pack Plus Three

“We can always go out and get one now,” I reasoned.

“No! That would be silly, and I hate being the voice of reason.”

“Reason is overrated,” I agreed. “Have you been baking again? The whole building smells amazing.”

She bit her lip. “I have been baking, but the cookies kind of got kidnapped,” she said as she waddled toward the kitchen, cradling her bump.

“Kidnapped? Who kidnapped them? Was it you?” I directed the last question to Gilbert, who was trotting at my heels.

It was then I noticed the plywood resting against the wall in the hallway. When did I put that there? I’d been meaning to go and buy more plywood, but I hadn’t had the chance.

That was a lie. I’d had the opportunity to go purchase plywood several times, but instead, I’d opted to spend time with Daisy.

“Devon came over and brought plywood for you. He said you needed it for a project? I was baking a small batch of cookies, and he took them with him. I did manage to save one for you, though.”

Frowning, I pulled out my phone. Devon had been to the apartment? Usually, he would have given me a heads-up, and the fucker definitely knew that I had practice today. The reason I’d caught the scent of spices suddenly hit me—Devon smelled like the strongest spiced chai tea you could get.

With a silent groan, I noticed his text message. He had been here, and he’d had an ulterior motive. I wasn't naive enough to think he visited just to give me some plywood.

Daisy bent down, pulling a tray out of the oven. “Do you want some?” she asked, nodding at the casserole. “It's not as good as what you make, but it's something to eat. I noticed you had a bunch of veggies that were about to go bad, so I thought I could use them up and make us dinner.” She smiled.

“Please,” I said, wandering over to her and opening the nearby cabinet to grab a few plates.

She wandered around the kitchen, gathering the bowls and dishing up steaming plates of casserole while I grabbed the cutlery. On the outside, I was calm, but internally, I was screaming. She had met my packmate. What did she think of him? Did she like him? Had he found her attractive? Had he been a total ass and turned her off for me? Or had he been charming?

“So . . . what did you think of Devon?” I finally asked.

“He was nice. He used his keys to get into the apartment and scared the daylights out of me, but I can't exactly blame him for that. How would he have known I was here? He was kind and helped me clean up the mess that I made when he started toward me.”

“The mess you made?”

“Ah. Yeah. I was using one of those ceramic mixing bowls, and when he appeared, I jumped and it kind of smashed on the ground—I'm so sorry, I’ll replace it.”

I waved her off. “There's no need to replace it. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Devon literally insisted on picking me up because he was wearing steel-toed work boots, and I had bare feet. He plopped my ass on the chair and refused to let me clean up. Your packmate seems to be just as stubborn as you.” She laughed lightly.

My gaze raked over the floor, looking for any residual shards. The flooring was immaculately clean. Good. If Devon had left a single shard, I would have wrung his neck.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I repeated my earlier question.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“And you liked Devon?”

She nodded. I moved over to her, gently turning her to face me, my hands on her hips keeping her in place. She was so close to me, her bump brushed my abdomen, which made me smile at the reminder of the little one that would be coming soon.

“But did you like Devon?” I asked, emphasizing the important word.

Daisy’s mouth fell open into a cute little O shape as she gawked at me, the meaning of my words hitting her.

“I-I mean... He was nice, and not terrible to look at, but we are?—”

“Going to be a thing,” I confirmed. “But if my packmates also have feelings for you...I’m not opposed to sharing.” I kissed the top of her head as she stared at me, her eyes so wide, I started to become concerned that her eyeballs would pop out of their sockets. We couldn’t have that; her emerald eyes were far too pretty to be damaged.

Pulling her into my arms, I gently rubbed her back as she tried to compute my words. It was obvious that she was startled at that declaration, so I needed to give it time to sink in.

I hadn’t expected it to be such a surprise for her. I had made my intentions clear in the gentlest way possible. Packs were common for omegas, and she knew I had one. Surely that wasn’t such a large leap.

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