Page 91 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“I’ve online classes.”

“We’ll make space for you to study.”

“I’ve nausea and that really isn’t pretty.”

Lincoln’s mouth curved. “We’ve noticed.”

“I’ve feelings too.”

“Unfortunately, so do we,” I said.

That made her laugh once, but the fear didn’t leave. “I’m not too young for you?”

The question came quietly, with no armor and no theatrical flourish. Just the fear.

I moved closer and rested my hand on the edge of the bed, not touching her until she shifted her fingers toward mine. Then I took them. “I told you, Mary,” I said. “You’re perfect no matter your age.”

Her eyes shone. Lincoln leaned over and kissed her knuckles.

On the monitor, two heartbeats flickered in grainy light. Mary looked at them, then at us, and for the first time since she’d come back into our lives, she didn’t look as if she was trying to leave before anyone asked her to stay.

“Just to try,” she whispered.

“Just to try,” I said.

Lincoln’s thumb moved over her hand. “I can bring you cake every day,” he added.

Mary laughed properly then, wet and startled and real and it was the most beautiful sound in the room.

Chapter 16

Mary

By the time Hudson and Lincoln drove me back to Surrey, I’d done what any calm, mature, nearly functional woman would do after discovering she was pregnant with twins.

I’d cried then fallen asleep in the car. When I woke, my cheek was against Lincoln’s shoulder, one hand curled in the sleeve of his coat, and the terrible knowledge that I’d drooled on him again. This was becoming a pattern.

When the car had stopped outside Maeve’s house, the evening pressed soft and gray against the windows. Warm light glowed from the hall, and rain ticked quietly on the roof.

No one moved.

Lincoln looked down at me, strands of silver in his beard caught the low light, so did the drool. I tried to rub it in.

His mouth curved. “Don’t worry about it.”

Hudson sat in the driver’s seat with both hands still on the wheel, watching us in the rearview mirror.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Forty minutes,” Hudson said.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were asleep.”

Lincoln’s shoulder shifted under my cheek as he laughed. “And you looked tired.”

“I’m pregnant with two people. Tired feels understated.”