Page 110 of Surprise Mother Pucker

“How about pancakes?” I cooed as I carried Charlotte to the kitchen.

Storm had an early practice, and Micha and Eli were in class, while Charlie was still fast asleep in the nest. He had crawled in there with me and Eli the night before as I sobbed myself to sleep. I’d had to practically shove Eli out of the apartment that morning because he didn't want to leave me. It took a lot of convincing, but he’d finally left, his face a mask of concern.

“Call me if you need anything,” he insisted.

“I will,” I assured him, even though I had no intention of calling him.

Charlotte had slept in later than usual. Normally, that would have been a cause for celebration because I needed any little bitof extra rest I could get. But, today, the extra time just meant that I had more time to ruminate in my own worrying thoughts.

When she finally did start to stir at around nine, I had sighed in relief and scooped her up.

I didn’t make pancakes often—they were a bit more labor intensive than our typical breakfasts—but it felt like a pancake kind of day.

Securing Charlotte in her highchair, I started flipping the pancakes, making several mini ones to give to her. I made plenty of extra, so Charlie could have some when he woke up.

It was kind of nice having breakfast with just Charlotte. I loved having my guys around, but sometimes it was nice to have a little one-on-one time with my baby, reminding me of the way things used to be.

She was growing so fast, and I wanted nothing more than to savor every moment as it passed.

Sitting at the table, feeding her mini pancakes as I nibbled on a few bites, my appetite minimal, I focused on her. She was about halfway through her mini pancake pile when the doorbell rang. I frowned at the front door. Who was ringing the doorbell at this time? Had Micha forgotten his keys again?

“Is that one of your daddies?” I asked Charlotte, rising from my seat and padding to the front door. Micha had threatened to skip classes and spend the day with me, so my money was on him being the one who’d come home early.

I swung the door open and stilled when I realized it was none of my guys at the front door. It was a tall redheaded beta woman who was wearing a simple skirt and blazer, a binder in hand.

“Kennedy Brown?” she asked, looking down at my clothing. I was wearing one of the guys’ T-shirts that I had slept in. I grabbed the hem and pulled it down a little lower.

“Yes, who are you?” I asked, confused and slightly embarrassed.

“Cassandra Lois. I’m from child protective services.”

My heart stopped.

Child protective services?

What was she doing at our apartment?

“Uh, hello?”

“Your university forwarded some troubling reports to the local authorities about what was found in your possession, and now we have to conduct an investigation. Here is my ID,” she said as she handed me her lanyard. It looked official and real.

Whatever you do, don't cry. Don't cry, don't cry.

“So, why are you here?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice steady.

“It is standard for a home check after such troubling reports. Is it okay if I have a look around?”

I shook my head. “Now isn’t a good time. My pack isn’t all here,” I explained.

She glared at me. “You should be aware, Miss Brown, that failing to cooperate with us will go against you in your case. There is a reason our visits are unannounced—if you truly don't have anything to hide, why would you stop us from entering your home and checking that everything is okay for Charlotte?” she asked pointedly.

I didn't want to let her into my home, because she was a threat. She was here because of false information. Those drugs weren't mine, and the idea that they may be used to potentially take Charlotte away from me made panic grip my chest, making me want to burst into messy sobs.

Charlotte was my daughter, and no one was going to take her away from me. I couldn’t let that happen.

I had to think rationally about this. There was nothing to hide. Charlotte had a wonderful home here, and we did everything we could for her. If I sent the social worker away, would she really think I was hiding something more nefarious?

“You can come in,” a voice behind me said in a serious voice. I turned to find a very sleepy-looking Charlie glaring at the worker. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, so he must have heard me opening the door.

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