A meow broke into our moment, the sound preceding Josie as she padded out from the back of the bus.
She beelined first for the cat tree secured to the wall, scratched herself lazily against it, then set her sights on us. When she was close enough, I scooped her up. Her entire body rumbled as she purred.
Before I could baby talk to her, or pet her properly, she squirmed in my grip, clearly trying to get to Tessa. I loosened my grasp and watched as the cat hopped into Tessa’s lap. Automatically, Tessa began to run her fingers through the cat’s fur, smiling softly as Josie started kneading the blanket.
“You know, I do a lot for you, cat. You could be nicer to me,” I teased, reaching over and mussing her fur.
Josie was unfazed. There was truly no creature on Earth more disinterested in life than a cat. Josie was positively unflappable, though Tessa told us once that the decontamination room at Eros scared the daylights out of the feline.
I watched them like they were the best show I’d ever seen. Every detail. Every movement.
When Tessa cringed, my heart skipped a beat. I hated when she was hurting.
“You sure you just want the water?” It was stupid, since I was still holding the damn bottle. But I needed to do something else; I needed tobe useful to her. I was beginning to think she’d just asked for water to give me something to do, to makemefeel better. She was kind that way.
Expression strained, blue eyes a bit glassy, she shook her head. Then, she seemed to change her mind. “Unless you can make my heat disappear? Or at least the shitty part before I’m horny as hell and just want my brains fucked out?”
I laughed, but she wasn’t really joking. The early part of heat was a mess: headaches, stomach cramps, the weird sense of being hollowed out. That’s how she described it, like it was her ‘Omega’ needing to be filled.
“Why can’t this part just skip to the good stuff?” She sighed out the question.
“Because biology is an asshole,” I said, grabbing her hand and massaging her knuckles. “But I could try a distraction.”
She eyed me, lips quirking. “Like what?”
I shrugged, playing it cool. “I dunno. A round of Sorry Knot Sorry? Or we could take every available snack on the bus and combine it into one of your kitchen sink creations?”
I leaned in, voice dropping lower. “Or, you know, we could try the one surefire way to stop your heats for a while.”
“I don’t know any surefire way,” she tilted her head, jutting her chin out. “Not. A. Single. One.”
“Are you sure?” I raised my eyebrows, daring her to pretend she truly didn’t know. Our pack had been dancing around this subject forever.
Finally, she chuckled. “Pregnant while on tour sounds like hell. We’ve got four months to go.”
I bit back the urge to say what I was really thinking, that nowhere on the planet could be hell if our pack was together. Instead, I just grinned. “So, pregnant after the tour?”
She looked away, but I saw the way her cheeks pinked. “I could be convinced,” she muttered, so quietly I almost missed it.
I dropped off the sofa, falling to my knees in front of her, hands sliding under the mess of blankets to rest against her thighs. I disturbedJosie in the process, who huffed and hopped out of the way, going to perch on the back of the couch cushions.
Tessa’s skin was fever-hot, smooth and trembling under my palms. I gripped her legs gently, though I had to fight the urge to clamp down tighter and claim her with bruises. She didn’t know how her words affected me.
“Name your price. I’ll make it happen.”
She reached out, fingers tangling in my hair. “It might be more than you can afford,” she said, but her voice was sweeter than I’d ever heard it.
“I’d give upeverything, Tessa, to bring a pup into our pack.” I said it with earnest, even though I knew it was irrational.
“Not everything. Diapers are expensive,” she teased, tightening the grip in my hair, pulling me towards her.
We were lost in a kiss when noises outside the bus alerted us to the return of our pack mates.
“You think they really want a pup as much as you do?” Tessa mused, staring towards the bus door. “Tray almost seemed scared the last time it came up.”
“Tray is probably going to slot himself into the cool, irresponsible Uncle role,” I laughed.
“Well, he can play that role, but he can’t actually be one. I want four, minimum. One from each of you. I want to gaze at little faces and see your eyes, Dixon’s smile, Tray’s dimples, and Mac’s cute, crooked nose.” She spoke like she’d given it more thought than I’d ever realized. She spoke like she’d already seen our future.
