Page 97 of Breeding Clinic

“That’s it?” Matthew asks while Liam licks his neck clean.

I reach out and hold Matthew’s hand. It’s amazing to have the comfort of a pack bond again. To not be so alone and adrift in the world. But to be connected instead. Anchored and safe.

I’m satisfied in a way I haven’t been in years. I press my forehead against Liam’s arm and enjoy this special moment as our alpha tends to all of us one by one.

Chapter Twenty-One

GABRIEL

“I thinkthat was the last box,” Matthew says as he sets it down in the living room.

A month after our mating, we’ve officially moved into our new house. Sort of. We still need to unpack. And we haven’t touched the upstairs yet since we technically won’t need the space for a while. After two weeks of furiously painting, fixing things, and hanging up blinds and curtains when I wasn’t working a shift at the hospital, the downstairs area is done. It helps that the house was in great shape from whoever last renovated it.

“I’m too tired to unpack the kitchen and cook tonight,” Matthew says. He puts his fists on his hips and surveys the mountain of cardboard boxes.

“Want to order food?” I offer.

“Sure. Chinese?” Matthew pulls out his phone to look at what’s close to our new home.

“Sounds good. I’ll take an order of beef and broccoli.” I open the front door and yell outside, “We’re ordering Chinese!”

Liam and Kat wander in from taking photos of the house to show our families. “Sounds good,” she says. “I want chickenfried rice. Wait… I want shrimp. Or should I get the boneless spare ribs?” She rubs her baby bump and thinks, a wrinkle forming between her brow. “I can’t tell what the baby wants. Definitely get egg rolls, though. Crap, I have to pee again.” She heads off to the bathroom.

“You’re ordering all of that, right?” I ask Matthew.

He types on his phone. “Yup.”

Good.It never hurts to have leftovers when it comes to Chinese takeout. Especially with a pregnant woman in the house. Kat’s appetite waffles as fast as her mood. Speaking of…

“We should let Waffles out of his carrier.” Now that we’re done going in and out, we can get her kitty situated. I shut him into the hall broom closet with the light on until we were done.

I retrieve Waffles’ carrier from the closet and take it down to the basement where we’ve put his fancy litter box and his bowls. We’ll need to cut a hole into the door for him but for now we can leave it cracked open.

“I’m letting Waffles out so mind the doors!” I shout up the basement stairs.

Waffles scratches at his carrier and meows. I open the door and he bolts out, pacing restlessly as he tries to figure out why everything’s different. I scratch his back and show him where his stuff is, making sure his water is fresh. Then I pour some food into his bowl from his bin. “Here’s your litter box and bowls. Have fun checking for mice in the basement.”

He hunkers down to eat, crunching on kibble like he’s lived here all his life. He’ll settle in fine in a few days. I head upstairs, leaving the light on for him and the door cracked. We’ll move his food and water into the kitchen once things are less chaotic, but for now, this’ll do.

It’s only a half hour before the delivery driver knocks on our door. I take the bags from him and give him a tip, then kick the door shut behind me. “Food’s here!”

We spread everything out on the coffee table and pile onto the couch, eating straight from the containers. A TV show plays in the background while we take a well deserved break. Kat vacillates between her food choices, taking small bites while frowning. When she side eyes mine, I make peace with sharing it with her.

“Are you sure?” she asks, hesitating to take it. She knows I’m in a cutting phase right now and trying to eat lean and healthy.

I kiss her temple and give her the plastic container. “Whatever the baby wants, the baby gets. But you can repay me after dinner if you want.” I wink at her so she knows what I mean. It’s been two weeks of nonstop work to get the house ready since we closed and got the keys. I’m ready for a night of fun.

“Deal.”

I can’t wait. The sun sets, casting the room in shadows since we haven’t figured out all the light switches yet. Once we’re stuffed and the leftovers are in the fridge, we get cozy on the couch. The TV show changes to an old horror movie. Part of the channel’s line-up for something called Septemberween. On the screen, a young woman creeps through a dark house. She heard a noise and went to investigate because the house was supposed to be empty. Unbeknownst to her, a masked killer stalks her quietly through the house, a bloody knife held at the ready.

When there’s a jump scare, Kat flinches, then laughs under her breath. On the screen, the killer corners the panicked woman. It’s graphic and gory as he kills her. Kat groans and presses her face to my chest. I drop my arm from the back of the couch onto her shoulder and pull her closer. “Scared?”

“I usually like horror movies,” she says. “I don’t know why this one’s bothering me.”

She’s right. Her books don’t shy away from violence and sometimes gore. My hand strokes up and down her arm, makingreassuring swipes. “You aren’t usually pregnant. Pregnancy does weird things to a person.”

Kat cuddles me and hides from the horror movie, and I’m not unhappy with this situation at all. She’s soft and warm. Her breath tickles the hair on my nape, ghosting over the healed mating bite on my neck. The movie’s scene changes to another young woman. This one’s with a man. They’re alone, making out in a car parked outside. Too absorbed in touching and fondling and kissing each other to notice the masked killer heading their way. The image jumps from the bloody, dripping prop knife to the girl straddling the guy in a bouncing pantomime of sex. I mistake a spike of arousal in the bond as my own until I hear a sound that’s not the movie. A zipper being undone. A sigh.

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