Page 64 of Pucking the Enemy

“Hell, yeah, Duchess. They’ll love you! Do you have any idea how excited my mother will be at the prospect of a grandbaby? She’ll probably throw a gala in support of some sort of baby charity, just so she can boast about how proud she is.”

“Wouldn’t she be upset that I’m not more… refined?”

Roman snorted. “My parents have always encouraged me to do what I want—look at my pack, for instance. We became a pack because we genuinely love each other like brothers, not because we all have wealth or connections. My father actually insisted on it.”

“How come?” I asked. That wasn’t exactly the norm.

“Well, my dad was originally part of a pack. It was an arranged pack, sort of like an arranged marriage. Apparently, that was quite common back in the day. My grandfather matched my father with several other young men of similar social standing whose connections would help support one another.”

“That sounds… sterile.”

“It was. They ended up hating each other and they were in an official pack. My dad was miserable. When he found my mother, the other guys agreed with his choice because she was a proper lady, but it was so uncomfortable. No one other than my dad loved her. Before they were officially bonded, they made the decision to go their separate ways. My grandfather wasn’t happy, because it was a significant loss to his business.”

“Sounds like your grandfather and my parents would get along amazingly.”

“Seems so. My dad basically told me to find people I got along well with if I wanted a pack. When I met those two idiots… well, it was easy for me to decide.”

“And then you got stuck with me.” I laughed ruefully.

“Then I got blessed with you, Duchess. How about we go grab some lunch? I’m sure Phillip’s prepared something.”

I nodded, extracting myself from the nest with a groan. My lower back had been aching something fierce.

The lasagna Phillip had prepared made crawling out of my nest totally worth it.

“You’ve got a sixth sense for when food is ready,” he joked as he dished me up a plate.

“It’s the pregnancy nose. It’s fine-tuned for food!” I declared as I took a seat at the table. The kitchen and dining room were all together, and it gave the place a homey vibe.

“Cormac! Interloper! Food!” Roman shouted as he grabbed his own plate and joined me.

I cocked an eyebrow at a Roman. “Are you calling Sebastian an interloper?”

He shrugged. “It felt like the right name for him.”

I shook my head with a sigh. “You could be nicer.”

“I could also be meaner,” Roman said, taking a bite of lasagna with a smug grin.

A clattering noise rang out somewhere deep in the house as Cormac came to life and made his way toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Hazelnut,” Sebastian greeted me, kissing the top of my head as he passed me. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Do you have class tomorrow, Interloper?” Roman asked.

I shook my head at the use of the nickname again.“Really?”

“It’s fine, Hazelnut,” Seb said from the breakfast bar, where he was dishing himself a plate of salad and lasagna. “They can call me whatever they want to. I’m not going anywhere, and they’re feeding me, so it’s not all that bad.” He turned to Roman. “To answer your question, no class, but I have an all-day practice.”

“As long as there’s food, we can put up with a lot.” Cormac laughed as he entered the kitchen, clearly having heard the tail end of our conversation.

I rolled my eyes.

“In that case, I’ll stay home tomorrow to look after our girl,” Roman declared, throwing an arm around the back of my chair.

At least they were no longer trying to punch Seb.

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