Page 35 of Puck Your Bunny

She shakes her head. Her knuckles turn white against the counter.

"The novelty fades." She drops her chin. "The adrenaline from the Heat will leaves your system. Then you face the daily grind. You face the isolation. You will resent us for ruining your freedom."

"Kel told us about the dinner." I lean my hands flat on the island. "He mentioned the feeding schedule and the prep. Wally mapped out our off-days to match your nursing gaps. We are serious about this, Vayda. You carry the entire world on your shoulders. Let us take a piece of it."

She rubs her temples. Her shoulders slump forward. The sound of a nature documentary plays from the television in the other room.

"My five minutes are up." I push off the counter and point toward the hallway. "Before I go, I want to introduce myself to Brendan."

Vayda turns around. Her blue eyes widen. She studies my face, searching for pity or disgust. She finds genuine respect.

"He is watching a show." She grips the edge of the island. "Keep your voice calm."

I nod and walk out of the kitchen. I head straight into the living room. Brendan sits parked in his wheelchair near the sofa. His head rests against the padded support. His bright blue eyes track the animals on the screen. The faint scent of rain and driftwood lingers in the air around him.

I walk over to the chair. I drop my knees to the rug, bringing my face down to his eye level. I keep my posture open and relaxed. It shows clear submission to the resident Alpha. I bow my head a fraction to acknowledge him as the man of the house.

"Hello, Brendan. I'm Simon." I keep my tone calm. "It's an honor to meet you. You have a beautiful house, man."

Brendan blinks. He turns his head and locks his eyes on my face. He lets out a low, rumbling hum from his chest. His curled fingers twitch on the armrest. He lifts his hand and reaches toward me. I hold my palm open. Brendan drops his curled fingers against my skin.

Footsteps pad across the floorboards. Vayda steps out of the kitchen and stops at the edge of the rug. She stares at Brendan's hand resting in mine. Her mouth hangs open a fraction. The rigid set of her shoulders drops. Her guarded expression gives way to stunned disbelief.

"He likes you." She grips the sleeves of her blue sweater. "He avoids new people."

"He has good instincts." I push to my feet and turn to face her. "He knows I respect him."

I walk over to the edge of the hallway. I stop a few inches from her. Her breath catches. The sweet scent of her lavender flares in the narrow space. I keep my hands shoved deep in my pockets, honoring her five-minute rule.

"We want both of you, Vayda." I lock my eyes on hers. "We want the whole package. Take your time and figure that out. Eat the food I bought."

I take a step toward the entryway. I pause near the threshold.

"Kel puts the rest of the fence up today." I pull my hands out of my pockets. "Until he secures the perimeter, your yard remains an open target. I claim the sofa tonight to keep watch."

I step past her and walk out the front door. I pull it shut behind me, leaving her alone in the quiet house to process the morning.

Chapter 13

Istare at the water stains on the bedroom ceiling. Sleep feels like a lost cause. My brain spins in a relentless loop. Kel claimed the living room sofa three days ago to guard the broken fence. Simon took his turn the following evening.

I caught Wally lurking in his SUV late yesterday right after I settled Brendan into bed. I marched out into the spring chill and ordered him inside to take the couch. A pro athlete needs his spine intact for the playoffs. The three of them treat my quiet street like an active war zone.

I throw the blankets off and swing my legs over the edge of the mattress. I pad down the dark hallway. A soft, rhythmic snore drifts from the living room. I step into the kitchen and tear open one of the shiny foil bags Simon bought. The rich smell of darkroast fills the room. I scoop the grounds into the filter and hit the brew button.

I unlock the deadbolt and step out onto the concrete porch to grab the morning delivery. A mild spring breeze cuts through my thin t-shirt. I scoop up a stack of cardboard boxes filled with supplies from the welcome mat.

I carry the boxes into the cramped entryway. The oversized sofa groans in the next room. Wally steps into the hallway. He wears a dark Canval Reapers hoodie and a pair of gray joggers. He rubs the back of his neck, his dark hair a messy bedhead.

"Morning." Wally pauses near the entryway arch. "The coffee smells incredible."

"Morning." I drop the supplies near the door and walk back to the counter. "Have a seat."

I pull two ceramic mugs from the cabinet and pour the steaming dark roast into each. Taking in a deep breath, I let the scent give me courage.

"Cream or sugar?" I grab a spoon from the drawer.

Wally pulls out a worn wooden chair at the small dining table and takes a seat. "Just a splash of cream, please."