Page 30 of Breeding Clinic

Matthew makes a thoughtful hum. “I’ll try not to get stuck late at work. What kind of food does she like?”

I frown. “I’m not sure, but I can ask her.”

“I could make myavó’s churrasco,” Gabriel offers.

“Or something less spiced,” Matthew says. “Something bland and easy on the stomach. Baked mac and cheese? Carbs are probably easier for her. You said she’s been nauseous.”

“I’ll ask her, but I think that sounds good.” One of the books I bought today might have a chapter for recipes.

Since the swelling in my knot has gone down, I pop myself free. Gabriel grunts and I watch my cum make a mess of his thighs before I find his discarded towel and clean him up. Spent, we collapse in the bed in a tangle of limbs. It creaks under our combined weight as we settle and get more comfortable.

“This was nice,” I say. I’ve missed this. The old days when the three of us were obsessed with one another. Before infatuation gave way to love and then comfort. We’ve been together a long time, through all the ups and downs. Life is good. It’s about to get better.

“It was,” Matthew says, spooning Gabriel. “I’ll try to not be so late all the time. It’s hard while the bank’s short staffed.”

“I know.” I reach over Gabriel and rub Matthew’s shoulder. “But they’ll give you time off for the baby once it’s born, right?”

“She’s not an official packmate and I’m not the father,” he says. “HR said I can use my vacation, but I don’t get twelve weeks of parental leave.”

“That’s bullshit,” Gabriel says.

It is.

And it’s all the more reason to make Kat a part of our pack. I can’t imagine bringing our baby home without Matthew or Gabriel being there.

Now I have even more reason to convince her that we’re perfect for her.

“I’ll fix this,” I promise them.

Chapter Eight

MATTHEW

I pullthe oven open for the eighth time in twenty minutes to make sure the cheese is melting properly. As if it’s possible that cheese won’t melt in a hot oven. I’m nervous. I want this dinner to go well.

This woman is carrying my baby, and while Liam says he’s reasonably sure it’s all a done deal, I’m not so convinced. Seven months is a long time. Long enough for her to change her mind. And while my dad says we have a good legal leg to stand on thanks to Liam’s smooth-brained rutting alpha idiocy, this is our baby. I don’t want to spend months or years locked in a legal custody battle.

When the lust and pheromones fade, will she resent us? Regret this? This woman will be in our lives for the next eighteen years at a minimum. What if we’re not the pack she always dreamed of? I read that alphas and omegas form attachment through touch and sex and the exchange of fluids. Some evolutionary heat-rut byproduct from the ancient days when they bonded before they knew one another. But I don’t think I could force myself to fuck her if I don’t like her. That’s not how I’m wired.

“You’re letting the heat out,” Gabriel says with a knowing glance. “It’ll cook faster if you close the door.”

I close the oven and make myself busy with the broccolini. I blanched it in advance, and now I’m drying it off so it’ll get a nice char. “I want everything to be perfect.”

“It will,meu amor.” Gabriel bends down and kisses my cheek. “She’ll love dinner. And she’ll love you.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re… you.” I wave a hand up and down his torso.

“What does that mean?” Gabriel puts his palm on his chest like he’s actually confused.

I sigh with exasperation. “You understand exactly what I’m talking about. You’re tall, fit, good looking, and you’re exaggerating your accent on purpose because you know people love that shit. You immigrated here when you were five. You don’t have an accent when you speak English unless you want to.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gabriel pulls a bottle of white wine from the rack. “What wine should we pair with macaroni and cheese?”

I snatch the wine from his hands and put it back. “She’s pregnant, remember? She can’t have wine.”

He looks offended. “A small taste is okay. It’s not like I’d encourage her to get drunk.”

I shake my head and check on the mac and cheese again. It’s bubbling nicely. When it’s done, I’ll broil a cracker topping with some butter. “Didn’t you read any of the books Liam bought?”

---