Page 72 of Three of a Kind

Chapter Twenty-One

Maverick

“Why are you acting weird?” I ask Bless as we carry another stack of boxes down to the bed of her truck.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She scoffs. “Maybe because your partner couldn’t keep his teeth out of someone I genuinely care about.”

I frown. “Brooklyn shouldn’t have to put her life on hold just because her ex is a royal piece of shit.”

“Don’t lecture me,” Bless growls back. “The three of you are thinking with your instincts and not rational sense. I can’t even go with my backup plan to get her out during the wedding. Now we have to pivot at the last minute, and that makes me anxious.”

“He already saw me and Brooklyn together. He knows she’s moving on.” I bump the door to the parking lot open with my foot.

“Dating is one thing. Being bonded is another entirely. Knowing Avan, he’s probably grateful that she’s distracted while he needs her to be, but you’re all fools if you think he’s done with Brooklyn forever. Especially if he knew about the other thing.” She doesn’t have to say it for me to know she means the new baby.

“We have backup of our own that we’re calling in,” I assure her. “Someone who can appeal to Ivanov on our behalf. If things go well, maybe we can get him to move up his plan. I’ve never met the man, but I’ve heard he doesn’t hurt women or children.”

“Not usually.” Bless huffs. “But Avan also kidnapped his daughter and married her off to a man almost three times her age.”

Yeah, that was an awful situation, but the only person who needs to be punished for that is the man who caused it.

Avan fucking Barrett.

Liberty passes out on the couch with one leg up in the air, crossed over the other.

It’s cute as hell.

I’m exhausted.

Point blank—I don’t understand how Brooklyn does it alone day in and out.

Brooklyn takes the sippy cup tucked under Libby’s arm and drops it onto the table. She heaves her sleeping child off the couch, carrying her to bed, while I watch like a total asshole.

I should have helped, but I’m still perplexed.

Are all toddlers that tall in comparison to their moms? I guess I never paid attention to my baby pictures.

Brooklyn comes back a few minutes later, and it’s finally just the two of us again.

Bless and Stacia took an entire truckload of bins to store somewhere, but they made it clear they’d be back tomorrow for more.

I knew it was going to take Gunner a couple of hours to drop Nova off. He’ll need to do a nightly run with each, and trying to take them together is a clusterfuck if they’ve been pent up all day.

Not that I’m complaining about finally getting some one-on-one time with the little omega.

Brooklyn frowns and immediately starts picking up toys before tossing them into the toy chest by the television.

“Nah, leave all that,” I say, leaning forward and planting my elbows on my knees. “Come sit with me?”

“I really should clean this up first,” she says, continuing her mission. “If I don’t, it’s a giant hassle to wake up to an already-dirty apartment.”

“It’ll keep.” I stretch back. “And I’ll even help tidy up if you let me snuggle you for a bit.” I wiggle my eyebrows obnoxiously until she laughs. “Okay, I’ll help clean either way, but I really want to catch up with you.”

She drops the last couple of toys into the toy box and stands. After a few seconds, she nods.

I lick my lips, studying her baby belly. It seems rounder than it did earlier today, like maybe the baby is all stretched out, or hell, it could be gravity.

Is it weird to be captivated by the fact she’s growing a human being?

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