Three large bodies file in, bringing a gust of cold air and the scent of snow and… other things. They are fully dressed now, zipped up and looking remarkably composed for men who were just engaging in an outdoor orgy.
“Goodnight, Amber,” Ryker rumbles, giving me a sheepish tip of his chin as he heads toward the stairs.
“Night, Amber,” Dorian adds, scrubbing a hand through his hair, refusing to make eye contact with me either. They vanish up the steps like shadows.
Jude is the last one in. He doesn’t utter a sound. He walks past the kitchen island, his jaw set tight, eyes fixed strictly on the floorboards.
He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. He speeds up his pace, practically jogging up the stairs after his packmates.
And then there’s Norah.
She steps into the kitchen, her face the color of a ripe tomato. She’s adjusting her scarf, though it doesn’t do much to hide the bite mark on her neck or the general glow of satisfaction radiating from her skin.
She looks everywhere but at me.
“I…” I start, then stop. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to—I thought it was a raccoon.”
Norah lets out a nervous laugh, moving to the sink to fill her own glass. “It’s okay. I’m the one who… well. We thought everyone was asleep.”
“I was,” I assure her, leaning against the counter. “I was thirsty and then I heard a noise and thought it was that damn raccoon again. Then… you know.”
She groans, resting her forehead on the cabinet door for a second before turning to face me. “I am so mortified. I just needed… well, the hormones are crazy, and we didn’t want to risk waking Maisie up.”
“Your house,” I remind her, gesturing vaguely with my glass. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m just the one who needs to invest in some blinds. Or maybe a bell I can ring before I step onto the deck.”
Norah cracks a genuine smile at that, taking a sip of her water. “Still. Jude is your brother. That’s weird.”
“It’s definitely up there on the list of things I never needed to see.”
We stand there for a moment, the awkwardness slowly fading into the comfortable camaraderie we’ve built over the last few months. Norah sets her glass down, her expression shifting to something more serious.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her. “When I got home you were taking a nap.”
“I actually had to go to the hospital earlier this evening.” Her fingers trace the rim of her cup.
My stomach drops, the nightmare flashing back in an instant. “Is everything okay? The baby?”
It’s so easy to…Fuck. I can’t even think about that right now.
“Yes, yes, everyone is fine.” She waves a hand dismissively, but her eyes hold a lingering worry. She knows exactly why I would be worried. “Just some cramping. Simon says it’s normal given the… circumstances. But he suggested I pick up some things from Hazel & Vine to help with the intensity.”
She is referring to Dr. Simon Hale, who is her best friend’s mate and also the town doctor.
“Did you already go to the apothecary? I can pick them up for you after work tomorrow.”
“I already did. Miss Thea blended me a special tea. It’s got red raspberry leaf, cramp bark, and a touch of something called moonflower essence. She claims it helps settle the mini-heats and keeps the… urges… from being quite so overwhelming.” Norah sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. “I think it might be working. Or maybe I’m just exhausted. But the cramping has eased up since I started drinking it.”
“I’m glad,” I tell her, meaning it. “You need to rest. You’re growing a human.”
“I know.” She looks toward the ceiling, toward the rooms where the guys are likely pretending to be asleep. “They’re taking good care of me. Too good, sometimes. I feel like I’m constantly under supervision.”
“That’s what they do,” I reply. “It’s in the Alpha DNA. They see something they view as fragile, they want to wrap it in bubble wrap.”
She nods, then turns the conversation, her eyes brightening. “How’s the shop? God, I miss running my own business sometimes. Just the quiet solitude of arranging stems, you know? Knightly Blooms feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It’s going well,” I assure her. “People love the holiday arrangements we’ve been putting out. The winter whites and the holly bundles are flying off the shelves.”
Norah smiles wistfully. “Did you order the new stock of eucalyptus? I always found that dried out so fast in the winter.”
