Page 81 of Same One
Rogue Pack territory was home now. She’d broken the lease on their little two-bedroom rental house in Coeur d’Alene, and they had moved in with Tabian six months ago.
Best decision ever. Bay was thriving under her and Tabian’s care, and in the heart of the Pack. That saying ‘it takes a village to raise a child’? It was sure true for Bay. The more adult werewolves he had to guide him, the better he did. Tabian was the most important to him though. Their bond was something she cherished.
Before she even rounded the corner of the house, she could hear them talking. The sun was setting, and the first flash of fireflies could be seen in the woods.
Tru paused in the middle of the yard, watching them. Tabian and Bay were both under the hood of the new truck, fixing something. Already, the truck had the shell on the back. They must’ve found something else to fiddle with now.
They would be out here all night if she didn’t call them in, and that was okay. She was good with having dinner out here tonight. The weather was too pretty to be inside, and that sunset in the sky was something to behold. Across the clearing, she could make out Liam and Nory sitting on their porch, watching it together.
Behind their house, Bridger was on his porch, leaning against the railing, watching the sunset too. She lifted a hand and waved to him.
He nodded and waved back. She pointed to the bag of food. “You hungry?” she asked at normal volume. He would hear it. Bridger’s werewolf senses were insane, she’d learned.
“I’m good,” he called. “Thanks though.”
She smiled and nodded, then made her way toward the boys, who were looking over at her now.
“Hey pretty girl,” Tabian crooned as she approached. He met her near the camp chair they’d set up for her to sit in while they were working on trucks or packing for trips. He cupped the swell of her belly and asked, “How are you two?”
Oh, he was a very tough man, and short and clipped with most people, but he was different with her. He turned soft and gentle.
He loved her little baby belly. He as always touching it, or resting his hands on it, or feeling for the baby to move. They’d just found out she was having a boy.
All boys. She would be surrounded.
She absolutely loved it.
“We’ll be better when we get second dinner in us,” she assured him.
“He’s hungry today.”
“Like his dad,” she said with a smirk.
He leaned in and nipped her neck, then kissed her lips. “What did you bring us?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs.”
“With garlic toast?” Bay asked. “I’m starving.” He grabbed the bag from her hands and set it on the ground, started digging containers out. He cracked open an orange soda and chugged it immediately.
“Bay,” she griped. “I only brought you one.”
“I was thirsty.” He pulled out his container and the foil wrapped loaf of garlic bread.
“Dude, don’t eat it all,” Tabian griped as Bay started unwrapping the entire loaf.
“I’ll save you a piece. Maybe.”
Tabian snorted. “Tru will tan your hide if you don’t save some for her.”
Bay couldn’t talk on account of his entire mouth being full of the giant bite he took off the end of the loaf. He was scrambling to open the container of spaghetti now. He probably wouldn’t say another word until he was full. Feeding teenage werewolves was a wild experience. He ate the portions of a family of four, and so did Tabian. She had to cook everything in bulk.
She loved it.
She loved everything about this life.
“Tabian,” Bridger called.
Tabian jerked his attention behind them at Bridger, and then his eyes went directly to the road.
