Page 123 of Bad Girl
I reached for some more cheddar.
Conrí
Her breathing had evened out but the pups remained active. A few short weeks and they would be here.
I leaned carefully over her to reach the bowl on the other side.
Two red grapes left.
Her fingers tightened around it. Her brow furrowed.
I attempted to ease it free.
She grunted.
How was she so strong? Pregnancy powers.
I gave up. If she wanted to sleep with her bowl, she could sleep with her bowl.
I slipped a little lower and pressed my face against the side of her belly, one arm curved around her. The pups shifted beneath my cheek—small movements, certain, entirely themselves already.
Our future, Kael murmured, inhaling the layered scent of mate and pups.So close.
And that was exactly what terrified me. What had turned me into a raging maniac about cheese and remote working policies and pillow arrangements. The thought of losing any of them woke me in a cold sweat at three in the morning.
I kept tabs on Finley. He’d been sectioned under the Mental Health Act—six months, which was insufficient by any measure. Cuán had paid him a visit. Conall had done the rest. Sectioned again.
I asked no questions. I had no further comments on the matter.
Conall was a good wolf.
The warmth and scent of our family lulled me into closing my eyes.
I’d rest my eyes just for a moment.
??????
“Does this mean if I knock you off I inherit everything?” she asked innocently, dipping an apple slice into the almond butter.
The cravings had evolved considerably since the grapefruits. Four a day at the peak—I’d lost count of the phases. At least we’d moved on from the cheese standoffs.
The solicitor’s office was quiet and neutral in the way that solicitors’offices always were—pale walls, the faint smell of paper and carpet, a clock doing its job on the wall. The kind of room designed to make significant decisions feel manageable.
“Yes,” Cuán said, signing the witness section with a flourish.“And if you ever need any help with the knocking off—”
“That’s enough from both of you,” I said.“You’re making Mr Barton uncomfortable.”
My solicitor cleared his throat and shook his head in a way that convinced no one.
I helped Nika out of her chair while Cuán collected her tub of apple and almond butter. Gods forbid we leave the snack behind.
Nika hissed and clutched her belly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, staring at her.
Fuck. I should have had Barton bring the paperwork to the penthouse. I’d known this was cutting it close. I’d known and I’d let her talk me into coming anyway because she’d wanted to feel normal for one afternoon and I hadn’t been able to say no to her.
“She’s been in labour for a while,” Cuán said, snapping the lid onto the snack pot with complete composure.
