“You two are the worst.”
“We’re the best,” Pearl corrects. “And we’re going to throw you the most amazing baby shower when the time comes.”
“Ifthe time comes,” I correct.
“When,” they say in unison, and burst out laughing at my expression.
I shake my head, but I can’t deny the warmth spreading through my chest. The happiness at the thought of a future here, with them, with my pack. A future that includes everything I never let myself want before.
The bell above the door jingles, and Buttercup springs to his feet, barking wildly.
“Down, you menace,” comes Baby’s familiar voice, and I look up to see her bustling through the door with a bag I’m desperately hoping is filled with snacks and not just more booze. Her other arm is looped through Dot’s, who’s pulling a reluctant Saramaria into the warmth of the shop.
Baby looks exactly like she always does—tousled hair that refuses to stay put, sharp eyes, and that “don’t fuck with me” energy that’s absolutely magnetic.
Dot, Pearl’s girlfriend, is grinning like she’s just won the lottery when she sees Pearl—and the glass of red wine she’s handing her. And then there’s Saramaria, who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“There’s my girl!” Baby pulls me into a one-armed hug, her scent rich and sweet—blueberries and magnolia. “Soooo… what was it like?” she asks with mock innocence, unloading the bag of supplies onto the table. Relief floods me as I spot crackers, cheese, and whiskey.
I know exactly what she means—my heat—and I blush all the way to my hairline.
“Good,” I admit, laughing as she squeezes me tighter. “Really good.”
“I can smell that.” She pulls back with a knowing smirk. “You absolutely reek of them. It’s disgusting. I love it.”
Dot presses a kiss to Pearl’s cheek before settling into the chair beside her. “We picked up a surprise,” she announces, gesturing to Saramaria.
Saramaria, who’s still standing awkwardly near the door, looks like she’s contemplating making a run for it.
“Sit,” Josie commands, pointing to the plush armchair next to the sofa. “You’re not escaping book club tonight.”
“I don’t even like romance novels,” Saramaria protests weakly.
“Doesn’t matter.” Baby’s already pouring wine into a glass and pressing it into Saramaria’s hand. “You’re one of us now. Resistance is futile.”
“I hate all of you,” Saramaria mutters, but she sits, taking a long sip of wine.
“No, you don’t,” Pearl says warmly. “You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”
I grin at Saramaria, remembering how awkward she’d been the last time we’d met. “Good to see you again. How’s the puppy?”
She smiles at me and relaxes a little. “Really good, thanks. He’s not even mine, but he’s convinced himself that he is.”
“Sounds about right for dogs,” I say.
“What about your houseguests?” Josie asks, her tone carefully innocent.
Saramaria’s expression goes flat. “They’re still squatting on my property. Still refusing to leave.”
“Have they told you yet what their plan is?” Pearl leans forward, genuinely curious.
“Their plan is apparently to stay forever and make my life a living hell.” Saramaria takes a long sip of wine. “I filed eviction papers last week.”
“You what?” Baby sits up straighter. “You’re actually trying to kick them out?”
“They’re trespassing,” Saramaria says flatly. “My grandfather may have given them permission to stay, but he’s dead, and I own the property now. They need to go.”
“And?” Josie prompts. “What did they say?”
