Page 68 of Pack End Game

Maybe Mia is right. Maybe I can picture exactly what she's imagining. All of her complaints about the nests we've seen have been about too much light, not enough privacy, too much space, or not enough character.

She could have exactly what she wants here.

A small, dim, private space with so much character that it has its own backstory.

Zak still has his brows knit down in deep suspicion about the space's ability to be a cozy nest, but he looks less appalled by the moment.

As we try to move along on our tour of the huge building, I spare one last glance back into the room where she would make her nest. A low rumble builds in my chest as I picture the way our four-person bed would fill the space. Making our bond the absolute center of the room.

The idea holds its own appeal.

We continue on, and every room gives Mia a fresh excuse to fall more in love. She fantasizes out loud for us about how we would use all the different spaces. Resident rooms that would give us space for plenty of kids. A huge communal dining room for large holiday dinners. An enclosed courtyard that would make a safe place for the kids to play with enough room for some raised flower beds.

Rufus excuses himself to take a quick phone call.

Freddie skips his way across the length of the courtyard, then pauses and looks back at us. "Can we get one of those inflatable swimming pools? Kids love pools. And me. I also love pools."

Mia nods enthusiastically.

And I can see it.

Children with dark hair and Mia's laugh racing to the inflatable pool in summer. Building a snowman in the courtyard in the winter. Freddie arguing with the kids over whether it's his turn again yet or not for the swings. Zak carrying out a plate of snacks in one hand and a fresh bottle of sunscreen in the other.

Mia clasps her hands together while looking at each of us in turn. "Wouldn't the best-case scenario be a place like this that's big enough that our kids can always come home?" She drops her gaze to her feet, her cheeks turning pink as she more quietly adds, "Not just after college. They could come home whenever they needed and know they always have a place. Maybe even have their own kids here if they really wanted. There would always be plenty of room to go around. And plenty of love."

Something inside my chest tightens until I can barely breathe.

Because that sounds exactly right.

Exactly like the kind of future I didn't know I needed for myself until now.

Freddie swoons openly. "That's it. I'm sold. I want to emotionally support a dozen of our grown children while they raid our fridges and avoid paying rent."

A dozen.

The number might sound ridiculous to anyone else, just Freddie being outrageous again, but the idea doesn't seem so ridiculous to me. The idea of making an entire building's worth of babies with Mia... of breeding her.

My pants tighten around my groin as my cock tries to prematurely rise to the occasion.

In a tight voice, I announce to everyone, "I think I need to see the office suite up front again."

We only looked over the office suite near the front of the building briefly since everyone was more curious about the numerous bedroom suites lining the halls of the two-story building. The second time, I pay more attention to the details.

The director's office is a great size with lots of natural light and an attached bathroom. Perfect for Mia to work from home if she wants to go into the office less once the babies start coming. This would give her options.

Three smaller offices mean that we would each have a private space to work out of as needed. Freddie is disappointed to realize, though, that the thick walls mean his days of secret eavesdropping on my therapy sessions would be over.

Poor beta.

To get to any of the four offices–the number so perfect it almost feels like fate–you walk through a shared meeting space with a solid wood conference table. I'm busy wondering if Mia would like to keep the table or pick a different furniture setup for the room when Freddie gasps.

He crosses the meeting space with lightning speed and stops dead in front of a built-in glass display case that none of us noticed during our first quick walkthrough.

The case is nearly ceiling height, lit from above, and probably once held brochures, trophies, or aggressively cheerful seasonal decorations.

Freddie drops to his knees and presses his cheek against the glass. "Simon could retire here someday."

I stare at him.