Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Emily
Iwake to Jared’s arm draped across my waist, pinning me to the couch, his face buried in my hair. I shift, the leather creaking, open my eyes, and nearly have a heart attack.
Quinn stands next to the coffee table in rainbow-striped pajamas, Sprinkles sitting at her heels, both of them just watching us like we’re a museum exhibit.
Jared startles awake the second I tense, his hand clamping down on my hip as his head jerks up, and he lets out a yelp.
“Jesus fu—” He cuts off his curse, and his body slackens with an exhale. “That’s pretty creepy, Quinn.”
I huff a quiet laugh and open my arms for the little girl. “Morning, princess.”
Her grin splits wide, and she leaps forward, knees digging into the cushion. She worms her way between Jared and me in the narrow space, snuggling into my side.
I shift, tucking her in close, my arm settling around her narrow shoulders. The scent of baby shampoo and sleep clings to her hair, and I purr with contentment.
Sprinkles wiggles closer and lifts half his body onto the couch, flopping across our legs as his tail wags, thumping the coffee table.
Jared props himself up on one elbow, his hair sticking up on one side, a pillow crease across his cheek. He pats the large Newfoundland’s head, scratching behind his ears, and Sprinkles’s tail thumps faster.
Quinn nestles deeper. “I heard voices last night, but Uncle Holden and Aunt Chloe said it was adult time, and I needed to go back to bed.”
That explains where the rest of the Wrights were during last night’s conversation.
Jared’s mouth twitches. “It was pretty late. What were you doing awake?”
“I snuck a second cup of cocoa before bed, and I had to pee.”
Jared snickers. “Of course you did.”
“Uncle Holden said I wouldn’t get another cocoa at breakfast since I had two last night.” Quinn tilts her head back to stare up at me, her pale brown eyes serious. “Will you sneak me one? I can’t go to school without my cocoa.”
My heart melts. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I see you’re going to be the fun parent,” Jared says, his palm brushing my stomach. “Does that mean I have to be the strict one?”
My pulse flutters, and I catch his hand in mine. “Shush. Small ears are listening.”
Quinn giggles. “Uncle Nat says that when they talk about things I’m not supposed to hear.”
I tickle her sides. “Were you supposed to wake us up for breakfast? Or should you still be in bed?”
“Breakfast!” She wiggles her way free. “Don’t forget your promise about the cocoa!”
She bolts out of the office, disappearing into the family quarters, Sprinkles on her heels.
Jared and I move at a slower pace, trying to smooth the wrinkles from our clothes and putting our shoes back on. We take the garage stairs as the fastest route to the kitchen, where the air carries the rich, yeasty aroma of bread rising beneath a dish towel.
The main floor of the Homestead takes on a different rhythm in the off-season. No guests mean no staff, no breakfast rush, and no clatter of plates from the dining room. Just the quiet clutter of a pack settling into their day.
Coffee mugs line the kitchen counter, and Jared and I stop to fill ours at the coffee pot. A container of cocoa sits next to the kettle, and I prep a third mug.
Jared rumbles at me in amusement. “She played you.”
“As if Holden wouldn’t give in and let her have it anyway,” I say as I dump in the hot water and stir. “Go get the creamer and whipped cream from the fridge.”
Despite his grumbles, he retrieves both from the fridge, and we finish off our drinks before heading out to the dining room, where the long wooden table is already well-populated with Chloe, Nathaniel, Blake, Holden, and Dominic settled into various points along it, the remnants of breakfast spread between them.
“Look who finally surfaced,” Blake says as we drop into our seats. He peers behind us. “Where’s Quinn? She was supposed to wake you.”
“She took the long way down.” I set my two mugs next to my empty plate.
Holden eyes the one heaped with whipped cream. “Interesting choice since you don’t even sweeten your coffee.”
Feet pound from upstairs, and then Quinn comes racing down the grand staircase with Sprinkles at her side.
At the bottom, Sprinkles trots over to his spot in front of the large fireplace, his massive paws clicking on the hardwood. He circles a couple of times before he plops down with a huff.
Quinn beelines straight for me, clambering up onto the bench at my side, and she reaches for the cup of cocoa.
Holden clears his throat, and she freezes, giving him a pout.
“Not very sneaky, princess,” Jared hisses, and the others chuckle.
She turns to Holden and widens her eyes at him. “But I need it before school.”
He arches an eyebrow. “No, you don’t.”
Her little face scrunches up with determination. “Then you don’t need coffee.”
“Point to Quinn.” Dominic lifts his own mug and takes a long sip. “Can’t get any work done without my morning cup.”
Quinn lifts her chin. “See?”
“Fine,” Holden relents, but before she gets too excited, he adds, “You can skip your bedtime cocoa, since you don’t need that to sleep.”
She whines and wiggles in her seat before the lure of immediate gratification wins, and she pulls the mug over, the whipped cream wobbling as it bumps between the wooden boards.
Blake, who sits at the far end of the table with a coffee mug cradled between his big hands, turns to us. “Sleep okay?”
Jared grunts as he reaches for the platter of bacon and sausage and loads my plate before adding a heaping pile to his own.
Chloe gives the meat a longing sigh, her pink hair pulled into a messy knot on top of her head. Her belly presses against the table, the fabric of her sweater stretched tight.
Jared extends the plate toward her. “Did you want some?”
She recoils with a small gagging sound. “I do, but baby doesn’t. My life is so sad right now.”
Nathaniel rubs her back. “Only a few more weeks, and then you can be back to eating all the smoked meats.”
She glares at him. “You did this to me.”
“Now, we don’t know that for sure.” He backs away from the danger. “There are three other people who you could blame.”
“Hey, don’t throw us all under the bus,” Blake protests.
“Take one for the team,” Dominic agrees.
“Have some more French toast, sugar.” Holden loads a slice onto his pregnant bondmate’s plate. “Would it make you happy if we all give up smoked meat until the baby comes?”
“Hey!” the others protest in unison.
“So…” Blake turns the conversation toward Jared and me. “Have you given our conversation any thought?”
The coffee mug stops halfway to my mouth.
Chloe drops her head into her hands and groans, the sound long and suffering.
“Blake, seriously? You couldn’t even wait a full day?
” She lifts her head, glare fixed on her bondmate.
“We were supposed to do this together. Leif’s not even here yet, and Grady’s still out of town.
This was supposed to be a conversation, not you bulldozing them into a decision. ”
Blake shrugs, unrepentant. “They were right there. The opportunity arose.”
“The opportunity arose,” Chloe repeats flatly. “You’re about as subtle as a chainsaw, you know that?”
“I’m aware.”
Quinn’s head swivels between the adults, her toast forgotten in her hand. “What’s bulldozing?”
“Something your uncle does instead of practicing subtlety,” Chloe mutters.
Quinn purses her lips. “What’s subtlety?”
I open my mouth to respond just as the kitchen door swings open, and Leif steps through, one hand still on the knob, a folder tucked under his arm. He’s already in his teaching clothes, with a burgundy button-down, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of dark khaki pants.
His pace slows when every head turns toward him at once. “What’s going on?”
Blake doesn’t hesitate. “We asked them to join the pack. And the timing is perfect with them trying for a pup.”
Stunned, Leif goes completely still. “What?”
The word comes out quietly, almost lost. He takes a step back, shaking his head as if trying to clear his ears.
His hand drags through his mauve hair, leaving it disheveled. “I—I left something at my cabin.”
It’s a terrible excuse. The worst kind. No one at the table buys it, including him. His shoulders draw tight, and he turns before anyone can call him on it, walking out fast, the door swinging shut behind him.
Jared mutters under his breath, “Fuck.”
I leap to my feet, the chair scraping back.
“You’ve got a big ass mouth,” I throw at Blake as I pass, chasing after Leif.
The kitchen is empty, and I hurry out the side door, following the faint trace of burned linen and cedar.
I catch him halfway down the path, just before the fork toward his cabin. My boots crunch on the frost-stiffened hay, each step loud in the morning quiet. “Leif, wait.”
He stops but doesn’t turn right away. His shoulders sit tight under his jacket, hands clenched at his sides as if he’s holding himself together by force.
I continue forward until I stand behind him. “We weren’t trying to hide it. But we didn’t want to jinx it when it’s still so early.”
He lets out a rough breath, fogging the cold air between us, and turns toward me. His periwinkle eyes find mine, and I struggle to decipher the emotion hidden in their depths. It’s not anger. Not hurt, either. No, it’s closer to panic.
“You’re trying for a pup,” he says. “You want to carry.”
I hesitate, then push through it. “The risks are high, and the chances are low, and we don’t even know if it’s going to happen. I might not—” I cut myself off. “That’s not the point.”
The path we’re on is narrow, the branches of the trees heavy with melting frost, the drips loud in the quiet. Above the tree line, the sky hangs gray-white, the winter light flat and diffused with the promise of more cold to come.
Leif’s jaw works, and then his shoulders drop a fraction, the tension bleeding out of them. “I want pups. I always have.”
I take a step forward. “Yeah?”
Leif huffs out a breath that almost becomes a laugh. “Yeah.”
He moves first, his hand catching my jaw before I register that he’s closed the distance, and then his mouth claims mine, as if he’s been holding back and now lost the patience needed to wait for permission.
My breath locks up as both of my hands close around the lapels of his jacket, and I pull him in, craving the velvet heat of his hot depths.
It’s been months of careful distance, of persuading myself the memory of kissing him was exaggerated, that time had made the firmness of his lips more significant than they were in real life.
It didn’t.
My hands find their way to his hair, my tongue sweeping past his lips to delve deeper.
A whine escapes him, and heat burns low in my stomach in response.
His pheromones shift with it, a sweet note adding to the cedar and sun-warmed linen of his natural scent, and his hands leave my jaw and find my hips, tugging us into alignment until the hard proof of his desire settles at my core.
When we break apart, we don’t go far, hands still on each other, breaths mingling. The bond flutters behind my sternum, quiet but insistent, a thing waking up after too long asleep.
Leif’s hand drifts to my stomach. “I always thought I’d be the one to carry our first pup.”
I swallow hard. “You still might be. We don’t know—”
“Shh.” He kisses me with less fervor this time. “Whether I carry for the first, or we wait until you give birth so I can carry our second, it’s okay. Because we’re going to be pack, right? You and Jared are joining the Wrights?”
“Yeah.” I lean my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, we’re going to be pack.”
Now, all we have to do is wait for our Beta to come home.