Page 24 of Pack Scratch Fever
Avery rolls his eyes. “Sorry,” he grumbles. “Maddox getsoverly excitedabout things.”
There’s a flurry of black, and Maddox is suddenly in front of us, his face even more stressed than Avery’s. “There are so many of them,” he insists, “and I don’t know what to do.”
Gone is the flirtatious, arrogant Alpha from before.
His expression is pure panic.
I would laugh if it weren’t for the way his scent affects me, too.
Ginger and pepper swirl around me, and I fight the urge to throw myself into Maddox’s spicy arms.
No! Think about the cats!
“Show us the way,” I say evenly, ignoring my body’s reaction. “We will go from there.”
It’s comical how stressed out the two of them are. Sure, it’s a big deal to have a ton of kittens in your backyard, but I’m not sure their level of panic is warranted.
Maybe it’s because I’ve done this a thousand times before, and I’ve trapped everything from feral cats to raccoons that try to eat the sardine bait.
Maddox leads us quickly through their front room and past their kitchen.
“It’s kind of messy,” Avery supplies. “Sorry about that.”
It’s anything but. Their front room is clean and spacious, with a welcoming, cozy-looking cream couch that faces a mounted television. Bookshelves and framed photos line the walls tastefully. Their kitchen is clean and pristine, with white cabinets, silver appliances, and charcoal hardwood flooring.
It’s a lovely house.
It doesn’t take long to see the source of their problems, though. Furry bodies scamper around their backyard, both kittens and adult cats alike. Some sit on the stone porch under the gazebo, while others roll around in the carefully manicured plants.
“You have a vegetable garden?” I ask, noticing the trellis against their wooden fence.
“And herbs,” Maddox says. “You can take some home, if you want. If you don’t mind them covered in cat fur.”
I laugh. “I’m always covered in cat fur,” I say fondly. “It wouldn’t be anything new.”
I turn to see Maddox watching me. His eyes are strikingly blue, and this close, I could swear he’s seeing right through me.
As if he knows every dirty thought I’ve had about him, and how close I am to my Heat.
It’s unnerving, to say the least, and I clear my throat and look away from him.
But I can still sense his eyes on me as Avery opens the sliding glass door and leads us outside, all the cats on the porch running away from us.
“Okay,” Blair says, placing her duffel bag down. “Are you guys ready to learn how to do this?”
An hour later,Blair is using their bathroom, and I am curled up on their comfortable couch, sipping a mug of hot chocolate.
She’s been in there for a long time, and I tell myself it’s not because she wants me to have alone time with Maddox and Avery, who sit on the opposite side of the couch from me.
We need to leave soon.
I have to start getting ready for the day at the shelter.
But that’s not the most urgent reason.
The truth is they’re affecting me, and badly.
I find myself digging my nails into their couch cushions, my stomach doing flips and my womb cramping painfully.
