Page 9 of Pack Plus Three

“By yourself?”

“My packmate Devon helps from time to time, but yeah, I'm doing most of it.”

“He’s the one you own your business with, isn’t it?” I was pretty sure he had told me before, but my memory wasn’t the best, thanks to the pregnancy.

“He is! All six of his fathers worked in construction, so he was practically born to do it.”

“Six fathers?” I spluttered, staring at Jeremy with wide eyes.

“He's from one of the bigger packs. He loved it growing up.”

“His mother must have been absolutely exhausted, keeping that many alphas happy!” I grinned. The idea of having six alphas to keep happy seemed nearly impossible to me. That much work would wear me down. Most packs only consisted of two to four alphas, and even those were delicate balancing acts.

“She is absolutely spoiled. I'm pretty sure that woman hasn't had to lift a finger in the last thirty years. She's got six daughters and one son. They're an amazing family.” Jeremy beamed. “Have you ever thought about what size you would want your future pack to be?” he asked, spooning up a thick dollop of cream and adding it to my plate before handing me a fork.

“I haven't really given it much thought,” I said, unable to meet his eye. I had given it thought. Quite a lot of thought, actually. Only, I highly doubted anyone would truly be interested in me at this point. Considering it was only my third meeting with Jeremy, unloading all my stress and worries on him would not be a good idea.

Even if he did seem really sweet.

And an amazing listener.

We could just have him? a small part of my mind insisted, never mind the fact he had a pack. My stupid pregnancy brain was making me all soft and mushy. All I wanted to do was to crawl into this gigantic alpha’s lap and beg for cuddles. Maybe some head scratches?

I would do downright criminal things for cuddles and head scratches.

“What are you planning to do with all the wood you got? What project did you have in mind?” I asked, trying to divert the subject somewhat.

“I was thinking of making a new TV cabinet or bookcase. This place could do with a lot more furniture,” he said as he took a bite of cake.

“You are seriously talented. I feel like something's breaking in my apartment every other day.”

“If something goes wrong, you are more than welcome to call me, Daisy. Honestly, I'm happy to help.”

“I know. I just don't want to be an imposition.”

“I'll happily do any manual labor you need me to, if you will pay me in butter pecan cookies.”

I smiled at him. There were actually several things wrong with my apartment. My shower door never closed properly. I had cabinets that wouldn't open. I had a floorboard that I was pretty sure was about to cave in and a window that wasn't latching properly. Thankfully, we lived on the third floor, so I wasn't too concerned about the window.

Part of me desperately wanted to take him up on his offer, but another part felt like I had already taken so much from him. He hardly knew me. Who was I to demand so much of his time?

I had been so distracted by our conversation that I hadn’t touched my cake yet. Picking up my fork, I took a small bite and, as the flavor burst across my tongue, I made a downright pornographic noise.

Throughout my lifetime, I’d had a lot of cake. I was a cake connoisseur, you could say. Still, that chocolate cake was hands-down one of the best cakes I had ever eaten. It was simultaneously rich and moist, sweet yet irresistibly dark.

“Holy fuck, where did you get this from?” I asked around my mouth full of cake.

“There's a bakery not far from the hardware store I went to today. I've never actually tried it, but I must say, I am pleasantly surprised.”

“I need to find whoever made this cake and marry them.” I moaned, taking another large bite.

Jeremy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

What did he mean by that?

“I can't eat another bite.” I moaned, rubbing my stomach and closing my eyes. Between the cake and the kimchi stew, I was about to burst.

“How's your stomach feeling?” Jeremy asked.

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