“Thank you.” I beamed as he turned and headed, I assumed, to the kitchen.
I could tell that my pregnancy cravings were getting out of hand because I was more distracted by the burger than I had been by my very shirtless alpha standing in the doorway, looking like a different kind of snack.
As soon as I slurped down the last bit of milkshake, Preston took the wrappers out of my hand, making them vanish in record time as I nestled down into my blankets.
“We really should get to know each other better,” I muttered as he returned, sitting in the same arm chair.
“What do you want to know?”
I thought about it for a moment. There were so many potential questions to ask, and they would all be important.
“Did you have any pets as a child, and do you have any particular feelings toward ferrets?”
Preston laughed, shaking his head. “I had dogs growing up. I don't have any particular feelings toward ferrets, but we both know, I'm pretty sure that acertainmember of this pack hasverystrong feelings toward ferrets.”
“But they're so cute!” I whined.
“Have you guys been thinking about a pet?”
“Yeah, a good friend of mine, Melody, owns an animal rescue. We've been talking about going down one day and seeing who needs help.”
“Well, Wilder has nothing against ferrets but hates chickens.”
“Chickens. Really?”
Preston nodded. “His grandmother owned chickens, and they pecked at his feet when he was a toddler, and ever since then, he's hated them.”
“But he treats eggs like they’re their own food group!” It was true. Wilder had eggs for breakfast every morning and snacked on hard-boiled eggs regularly.
“I think that's his weird way of getting revenge on the chickens.”
“Do you have any animals you have a vendetta against?”
“I wouldn't call it a vendetta, but horses occasionally freak me out. They’re just so large. I know they could crush me like a twig if they really wanted to.”
“I feel like that's a valid concern.”
“My favorite color is green.” He tapped his chin, as if deep in thought. “I didn't grow for like three years when I was thirteen, so I was the shortest kid until one day I suddenly shot up like a weed. My parents were convinced I was going to be a beta. I have an unhealthy love of those little meat sticks you get at the gas station and blue-flavored drinks.”
“Blue-flavored?” I giggled.
“Yes. Blue is a very specific flavor, and I reject anything that says otherwise.”
Despite my interest in our conversation, exhaustion started to tug at me.
“Sleep, Hails.” Merrick laughed, having returned from the kitchen as I started to doze off.
“No!” I sat up straight, looking at Preston. “Stay here!” I insisted, clambering out the nest.
“What’s happening?” Merrick asked, following me as I ran to the dresser.
Understanding spread across his face as I pulled out the envelope that had been burning a hole in the drawer for weeks.
“Wake the others?” I asked.
“Of course.” He leaned down, kissing the top of my head before turning and leaving.
Returning to the nest, I held the envelope up as a very confused Preston watched me.
