Page 57 of Wild Card

My dads used to practically fist fight—that’s an exaggeration, but they weren’t above having a shoving match—to be the first one to get to my mom in the mornings.

It’s one of the ways they showed their love.

Every single morning, Mom would sit in one of their laps to be fed by hand.

To me, it’s a way an alpha should provide care for their omega, but that’s because I grew up seeing how intimate it looked.

Dammit.

I made breakfast weird without even trying.

Lennox slides her fingers into mine, giving my hand a squeeze. “I had no idea this was a thing, but you just made my instincts swoon.”

A slow smile breaks out over my face as she blinks up at me from under her lashes.

“I’m not joking. You gave me butterflies and wobbly knees,” she whispers as her cheeks turn pink.

Holy fucking shit.

I love how open and honest she is.

Pulling her over to the table, I place myself down in one of the chairs and bring her to sit in my lap.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. You give me butterflies too,” I murmur as she wiggles around, trying to get comfortable in my lap. My arms stretch out around her to grab the silverware, and I’m smacked with her scent.

It’s sweeter than it was yesterday, and even the hints of Bear’s scent don’t make it any less noticeable.

Damn, her heat is coming fast.

I snatch up the syrup and pour a healthy serving all over the waffles before slicing them up. “Is there anything else you don’t like?”

Thorne slides into the booth section of the breakfast nook and smirks. He’s going to need a lesson in how to be a decent packmate if he plans to stick around.

“Nope, you’ve actually got all three of my favorites covered.” She squeezes my thigh, and I silently will my cock to pretend to be a gentleman. Getting hard at the breakfast table seems like it’ll send the wrong message.

I collect a bite of waffle and offer it to Lennox. Tilting my head down, I study the way her lips wrap around the tines of the fork.

“Mmm,” she moans.

My dick jolts under her ass, and I clear my throat, quickly moving on to a bite of hash browns to distract her.

Thorne chuckles, and I don’t know what he thinks is so fucking funny.

If he’s not careful, he’ll end breakfast with a fork lodged in his jugular.

Shit.

I think Bear rubbed off on me a little too much since I got back home.

I scratch my beard as Lennox pulls every single blanket out of the cabinets lining the wall in the entryway to the nest.

The plan was to see if she wanted to set up some of the Christmas decorations after we finished eating, but she started feeling feverish, and I blurted out that we could check out the nest.

We can’t decorate the tree without Bear, but we’ve got a killer Christmas village that I could have shown her.

Lennox grunts, pulling a light gray cable-knit blanket to her cheek. She rubs it around and huffs, dropping it to the side.

“I’m guessing that’s the no pile,” I whisper to Thorne, who leans in the other side of the doorway.

---