Page 23 of The Pack Next Door
“I need to get to know my new neighbours,” she said, limping over to the kitchen before looking through her drawers. A mixing bowl and an electric mixer were produced. “You said I need someone to keep an eye on me.” She looked up with a smile. “Who better than three alphas?”
There was no arguing with that logic, and she knew it. I shook my head, grabbing the flour and sugar from the pantry. As she measured them out, I pulled out the sifter.
“We need to double sift—” she started to say.
“The flour, to aerate it and keep the cake nice, light, and fluffy, not like those horrible flat things your cousin Mary always used to make.”
We both smiled then.
“I’ve told that story a few times, have I?”
She piled the flour into the sifter and then started working the handle. As a cloud of flour fell into the bowl, I remembered all the times she’d had me help her cooking, explaining every step.
“I think about Cousin Mary every time I make a cake now,” I replied. “Now, you sort the dry ingredients and I’ll cream the butter and sugar.” Her mouth opened. “Until it’s a pale yellow.”
It was a funny thing, falling into the same rhythms of so long ago. For a moment it was easy to believe I was just a child again, right up until I saw Mum wince from standing on her feet too long. She’d never pass the making of the cake over to me, so I propped a stool under her and then helped where I could. The batter was poured into the pan, then pushed into the pre-heated oven, but when she went to clean up, I waved her away. Me swiping my finger through what was left of the batter had her frowning and me remembering.
“Those alphas,” I said with a sigh, taking the dirty utensils over to the sink. “They’ll break down the door to help you if you keep feeding them chocolate cake like this.”
“Well, you better get the icing bag out. You were always better than me at piping.”
I smiled and got the hot water running, filling the sink with detergent to clean the mixing bowl before making some icing.
Hours later, the cake was cooled, iced, and I had piped a couple of rows of decorative frosting onto the sides, which left me to get ready.
I had a shower, walking into my bedroom, only to stare out the window. Dim lights glowed in some of the rooms in theWhitlock place. I’d set out a nice pair of shorts and a t-shirt on my bed. Comfortable, practical, and most of all, cool, it seemed like the perfect choice. So why did I hesitate when I stood in front of the mirror? The wolf whined. Usually she couldn’t wait for me to strip off all my clothes, but as I walked over to my suitcase, my fingers found the straps of a light sundress.
When we walked over to the house next door, the fabric would swirl around my legs. I’d feel the warm air play across my skin.
The same way it did when I woke up in the forest with company this morning. That damn chicken clucked, trying to argue that he really shouldn’t be eaten.
While Jace stared at me, looking like he wanted me for breakfast.
I felt like an idiot when I discarded the t-shirt and replaced it with the dress. Why the hell did I care what a couple alphas thought about what I was wearing? But I did, that much was clear as my hand smoothed down my front.
Staring into the mirror, it wasn’t me I saw, but them. Jace’s cheeky grin, much to the chicken’s disgust. Mads leaping over the fence to rescue me from mower malfunctions, and then there was Gideon. Right when I was freaking the fuck out, he got me away from the crowd, from everything. Their omega would be a very happy guy or girl when the Whitlocks found them.
When I walked downstairs, Mum smiled up at me. She’d stuck with a sensible pair of Capri pants but had a pretty sequinned top on over that.
“You look beautiful, darling.”
“You too, Mum.” I placed a kiss on her cheek, then took the cake from her. “We need to develop some kind of sign. If you want me to leave you alone with the hot alphas, you could just tug your ear or something.”
“So you do think they are hot…” Mum purred.
“Mother.”
“I’m not saying anything.” She made a show of zipping her lips. “Just noticing.”
Me too.
On the walk over to the Whitlock house, it felt like I observed every step, the way the cake swayed gently in my hands, even the flocks of birds flying overhead. I even noticed the muffled shout inside the alphas’ house. When Mum pressed the buzzer, we were answered by some heavy steps and then the front door being wrenched open. Mads took in Mum, me, and then the cake and winced. He had something that might’ve been gravy smeared across his cheek, his hair looking slightly singed on the ends.
“Soo…” he said. “How do we feel about ordering pizza?”
Chapter 12
Mads
