His hair is twisted into a loose knot at the back of his head, with wisps hanging around his face. There’s a paperback open on his lap, but his eyes are on the doorway by the time we step inside. That perfume of his floods the room, stronger than it was this morning, like warm dessert and smoke and something that’s uniquely him.
“Hey,” he says, a small smile touching his mouth. “You two look exhausted.”
Alex snorts and moves first, toeing off his shoes and dropping straight onto the bed as if gravity pulls him there. He crawls up beside Hudson and immediately buries his face in his neck.
“Long day?” Hudson asks, though his hand is already threading through Alex’s hair in slow strokes.
“Too long,” Alex mumbles into his skin. “You smell good.”
Hudson rolls his eyes, but his face brightens. “You say that every time you walk in here.”
“Because it’s true every time,” I say, stepping out of my shoes and setting my keys, phone, and wallet on the dresser before joining them.
The mattress dips under my weight. I lower myself down on Hudson’s other side and he shifts automatically, making room, our hips pressed against each other. His sweater rides up a little and I catch a glimpse of bare skin, as well as the very faint curve of his lower belly.
I rest a hand there, fingers splayed lightly. “How are they?”
“Tired,” he says. “Which meansI’mtired. But the doctor said everything looks good.”
His voice softens on the last word. Good. He’s trying for casual, but I can hear the awe and fear in his tone.
“Still nauseated?” Alex asks, lifting his head.
“Less,” Hudson answers. “If I drink that disgusting tea Amy made me and nibble crackers like a ninety-year-old, I can usually avoid reenactingTheExorcist.”
“Hot,” Alex says. “Very attractive visual. I’m aroused.”
Hudson laughs, the sound small but real, and the bond hums. I can’t feel him the way Mason and Alex can through their marks, but even with my side of the bond incomplete, there’s a sense of rightness that settles over my nerves whenever he laughs.
I let my thumb draw slow circles over his stomach. “Did you rest today?”
He gives me that look, the one that says he knows exactly how much I’m hovering and is torn between being annoyed and secretly pleased. “I sat on my ass and watched trashy reality shows while Amy glared at me any time I tried to get up. So yes.”
“Good.”
He tilts his head back against the headboard and studies me. “You’re still wearing your suit?”
I glance down at the sleeves of my dress shirt, rolled to my forearms. “Technically.” I lost the jacket before I ever climbed into my vehicle.
“Lose the tie,” he says. “It makes me nervous. Like you’re about to tell me you filed another motion or whatever it is you lawyer types do all day.”
Alex chuckles. “He says ‘whatever’ like he didn’t read three legal thrillers in a row last week.”
Hudson nudges his shoulder. “Those had serial killers, not busy firm partners. Big difference.”
I loosen my tie and slip it free, then pop the top button of my shirt. The nest is warm, heated by their bodies and the layered blankets. Being here feels like stepping out of a storm and into a calm, steady tide.
Everything feels calm and nearly perfect.
Alex shifts down and lays his head on Hudson’s thigh, one arm across his shins as if staking a claim. He inhales deeply. “They definitely smell more like me today.”
Hudson snorts. “Get over yourself.”
I lean in and brush my nose along the side of his throat. The scent that clings to his skin puts my alpha instincts at peace. “He’s not wrong. You do smell like smoke.”
“And chocolate hazelnut,” Alex says, eyes closed. “And Mason’s stupid peppermint thing.”
Hudson goes very still. Just a flicker, but I feel it. His scent ripples with a note of uncertainty.
