Page 3 of Pack Plus Three

Still, that didn’t give me an excuse to skip my manners. And it didn’t mean anything. Not really. She had her life to get to, and I still had the season to complete. The ice never stopped its demands, and there wasn’t room to give an omega like this what she needed. Not really.

Even if she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked.

“Just a few weeks.” Daisy hummed as she took another bite. “You?”

“About six months. It’s a good building. The neighbors are good people.”

“Mrs. Jenna from apartment thirty-six was at my door the moment I moved in, plate of cookies in hand.”

“The butter pecan ones?” I asked with a groan of my own. “I love those things. She hardly ever makes them for me! I get regular chocolate chip, even when I’m her on-call handyman.” I laughed.

“She’s been giving me a plate every week. I would have accused her of trying to fatten me up if I weren’t already the size of a house!”

I looked over at her again. While her stomach was almost comically large, she was still tiny. When standing, her head hardly touched my chest. “My sister couldn’t move by herself at the end. Her mates had to carry her everywhere.”

“Oh, lucky woman! I would love my own human taxi service. This food is amazing, what is it?”

“Spicy Korean rice cakes. I’d been craving them all week and dying for an excuse to make them, plus Gilbert goes nuts whenever I make anything with cheese,” I said. “Sometimes I can’t take him to places because he tries to steal anything with cheese in it.”

“If you ever need someone to watch him, I’m happy to help! It’s the least I can do. This food is seriously a godsend.”

I took a moment to look her over. Despite her happiness, her cheeks were slightly hollow, and she had a slight gray tinge to her skin. It looked like she hadn’t had a good meal in a while. “Morning sickness?” I asked.

“Twenty-four-hour sickness.” She grimaced. “You know, I was told it would stop after the first trimester, but no, it’s never ending.”

“That’s rough. If you ever want more rice noodles, you’re welcome to come over. It’s nice having some company.”

“Thank you. I can’t believe I just knocked on your door.” Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“The hormones will make you do crazy things, and you could do with a few good meals. There’s some extra as well. I can pack them up for you if you want?” I didn’t tell her I had planned to use those for my lunch tomorrow, since she clearly needed it more. A deep, instinctual part of me wanted to care for this omega. The idea of her alone, struggling to eat, didn’t sit right with me. Della had had her entire pack and our parents around while she was pregnant, so she’d wanted for nothing, and it had still been hard on her.

“Really?” she asked, looking at me hopefully. “Are you sure?”

I frowned at that, the alpha part of me rejecting the notion that anyone had ever made her nervous to ask for what she needed. Who was responsible for that?

If I had an omega like this, I would never leave her wanting for anything. Nothing, not even the Stanley Cup, would get in my way.

“Of course. I’ll box them up.”

Her eyes lit up, and my heart warmed. She was terrible at hiding her emotions, and I liked that. I liked that her every thought and feeling was written clearly across her face.

“Thank you,” she said. “You could have told me to go away.”

“Only a grade-A asshole would do that.”

She frowned, biting her lip again gently.

Had someone else rejected her when she asked for help? I hated that idea. “Seriously.” I made sure she was looking me in the eye before I continued. “You’re welcome here to attack my kitchen any time. If you can convince Mrs. Jenna to give me more butter pecan cookies, I’ll happily give you my entire pantry!”

My pack might think I was mad, but I didn’t care. There was a pregnant omega in this building with no one to take care of her.

“Thank you.” Her voice was a low whisper as she nibbled on one of the last noodles, looking down at her plate with a shy smile. Her mood had lifted considerably from the frazzled omega who had been at my door not long ago. I had done that—I had made her happier by cooking for her. My chest was so full of pride it wanted to burst.

“Do you want to try some Korean desserts before you go?” I asked once she ate the last noodle.

She looked torn. “I’ve imposed enough . . .”

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