Page 156 of Choose the Bears

But being laid into the baby carrier, tucked in close to his mum? Yeah, that did the trick. He made satisfied little sounds right as Kai began to arc up.

“It’s OK, you little booger,” I said in that weird, highly medicated voice that people use with kids. “It’s OK. Mum’s here and so is Auntie Holly. Yes, I am. Yes, I am.”

“You’re actually not completely shit at this.” Some of my old bestie was there in her arch tone as she looked me up and down. “Maybe you should have some kids of your own?”

My fallopian tubes were tying themselves as we spoke, ensuring that nothing and no egg was popping free.

“Right, so hot girl walk?”

“How about broken girl walk?”

Not too far, not too fast, that was the advice of the mothers when we talked about how to tackle this. It was more to get some endorphins pumping in her blood and the air on her face. I’d have preferred she did that without the babies to remember that she existed without them, but everyone seemed concerned Nat wouldn’t allow that.

“Broken girl walk it is,” I said, opening the front door.

The way my bestie emerged hurt me. It wasn’t super obvious, but if you knew where to look, you saw it. The way a line formed between her brows as she looked up at the sky, sucking in a long breath before pushing herself forward. The street was lovely and quiet, with oak trees growing on either side, but she eyed it like it was a jungle. A far off screech of a car’s tyres had her arms going around Sven, protecting him even in his carrier.

“Just to the end of the street,” I assured her. My tone was light, my smile ready, but she saw it. Neither of us had been able to mask a damn thing around each other, and we couldn’t right now. Her eyes met mine, creasing at the corners as she stared, but then she nodded sharply, striding off and leaving me to scramble to catch up.

“Oh, are these the twins?”

“Ah!” I yelped as a middle-aged woman emerged from behind a rose bush, secateurs in hand. Kai’s face began to screw up, but I frantically shushed him, swinging him back and forth.

“They’re just beautiful,” the woman enthused. “The spit of their fathers.”

Which ones? I wanted to ask, but that was apparently not done in shifter circles. All kids were their kids, irrespective of genetic input.

“Um, yeah, thanks,” Nat said. “Lovely to see you, Barb.”

That was a brush off, even if it was a polite one, so the woman just waved her gardening tool and then went back to work, dead-heading the bush.

“Natalie…!”

Dear god, I was beginning to see why she was hesitant about stepping outside. A woman pushing a stroller waved and then crossed the road. “It’s lovely to see you out.” The woman's hungry eyes pierced the mesh of the baby carrier with ease. “And is that little Sven?” Her fingers wriggled in the air. “Can I have a cuddle?”

Nat’s whole body stiffened, and that had me moving, putting myself between my bestie and these strangers.

“We’re just heading out for a walk right now. Maybe later?”

She looked me up and down and her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t know. You could shoot me all the princess bitchface looks you liked and it would have exactly zero effect on me. My assistant, Nicky, had been trying to skewer me with his gaze since the moment he started working for me.

“And you are?” she asked.

“Going.” I locked arms with Nat and hauled her further. We stumbled up the road, jostling the kids, which had them spluttering and me wondering at the wisdom of this, all of this, when I heard a sound I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear again.

A giggle.

Not because the babies were so developmentally ahead of their peers they were cackling like old ladies. Nope, that came from Nat. I halted mid-drag and spun around to face her.

The smile was there, gone again, then came back, like some kind of strip tease. I had a crack at a wobbly smile myself and that seemed to embolden Nat. A real smile, a genuinely goofy one with all the damn teeth, spread across her face.

“You know I’m never going to hear the end of that,” she said. “Daphne is like the queen bee of the mum and bubs group.”

“That’s who you have to hang out with when you get away from the house?” I peered past her to where the supercilious cow had turned and marched away, nose in the air. “Fuck, no matter you look depressed.”

“Depressed…”

Fuck.

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