Page 186 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

He looked at me. I looked at him, and then we both laughed, low and a little helpless, because nothing in our lives had prepared us for loving a woman so much that we became idiots over everything.

Fifteen minutes later we entered the nest, and we looked calm. Mary lay in the center of the nest with a blanket pulled over her from shoulders to knees, which was suspicious.

Her cheeks were flushed. Her dark hair spilled across the pillows. The violet stone on her finger caught the light from the skylight, the curved band and two diamonds tucked against it like a promise we had still not stopped being grateful she wore.

“Why are you covered?” Hudson asked.

“For mystery.”

“Mary.”

“Fine. Because I’m the size of a profitable island.”

I climbed onto the bed beside her. “No.”

Hudson sat on her other side. “Absolutely not.”

She clutched the blanket. “You’re both biased.”

“Deeply,” I said.

Hudson’s hand closed around the top edge of the blanket. “May I?”

Mary’s fingers tightened. I thought she would make a joke, but instead she looked away and nodded.

Hudson pulled the blanket down slowly, and my breath left me. She wore nothing beneath it.

Her body was full, lush, heavy with our children. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive, nipples dark rose, her belly round and taut and beautiful beneath the soft gold light. Slick shone on her thighs. She smelled like want, nerves, sweet warmth, and wild violet.

Mary crossed one arm over her chest.

I caught her wrist gently and kissed the inside. “No hiding.”

“I’m enormous.”

“You’re sexy as fuck pregnant,” I said.

Her eyes widened.

Hudson made a low sound.

I didn’t take it back. “You are,” I said. “Do you know what it does to us, seeing you like this? Full of our babies, wearing our rings, in the nest we built for you, slick because you want us.”

“Lincoln.” Mary’s scent bloomed.

“No,” Hudson said softly, leaning over her. “Let him tell you.”

Her breath trembled.

I kissed her wrist again, then her palm. “You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Hudson’s mouth moved to her throat.

Mary tipped her head back.

I shifted lower, one hand over her hip, one on the curve of her stomach. The babies moved beneath my palm, a slow roll of life and impatience.

“They’re listening,” Mary whispered.