Page 100 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

My hand was still inside my panties, which made this a fine moment for hospitality. “Yes?” My voice sounded too breathless to be innocent.

Hudson spoke next. “Are you okay in there?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that tonight.”

“You didn’t answer,” he said.

I closed my eyes. They knew. They were alphas. My scent was probably in the hall, under the door.

“I’m fine.”

Lincoln made a soft sound. “Love.”

That one word nearly finished what my hand had started. I pulled my fingers away and sat up, robe slipping off one shoulder. My heart beat hard enough to make the room feel smaller.

“We can go,” Hudson said. “If you want privacy, say so.”

And that was the most dangerous thing they kept handing me. Choice.

I looked around the room at the nest, their clothes, the ultrasound photos beneath the paperweight, and the rain on the dark window with the river beyond it.

Then I looked at the door.

I wanted them. No heat made me, or pain pushed me. I wanted them because they had spent the whole day making ordinary things feel like somewhere to land.

My voice shook when I spoke, but I spoke anyway.

“Come in.”

Chapter 18

Hudson

Mary invited us in.

For one breath, neither Lincoln nor I moved.

We didn’t move because this time mattered differently. No heat crisis. No pain. No hotel room with a clinic appointment waiting on the other side of dawn.

Mary stood in the doorway of her bedroom wearing a robe that had slipped off one shoulder, her dark hair loose, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes clear. Nervous. Aroused. But present.

She was choosing.

Lincoln’s hand flexed once at his side.

I looked at Mary. “Are you sure?”

Her mouth curved, but the smile shook at the edges. “I invited you in, Hudson. I know you’re fond of paperwork, but my word is considered sufficient.”

“Not for this.”

That softened her.

The robe slipped another inch. She caught it with one hand. “I’m sure.”

Lincoln’s voice was low. “Both of us?”

“Yes.”