Page 121 of Pack Plus One

Oh, I love that idea. I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “We’ll see about that.”

Her shiver is slight, but unmistakable. Victory.

Mason presses the lobby button, and the elevator begins its descent. Leah’s scent twines with ours in the enclosed space—vanilla and cinnamon mixing with my dark chocolate, Jude’s citrus, Liam’s old books, and Mason’s sandalwood.

And just like that—we’re whole again.

24

LIAM

The building manager’s expression when we step into the lobby is nothing short of exhausted resignation. His eyes flick from Caleb’s stormy glare to Jude’s disheveled shirt (still dusted with muffin crumbs) before landing on Leah tucked between us, her fingers laced with Mason’s.

“Let me guess,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “Heat emergency?”

The question hangs in the air like an unwelcome odor. I feel every muscle in Leah’s body tense beside me, her scent spiking with embarrassment and indignation. Caleb’s chest expands with a barely suppressed growl.

“No!” Leah’s cheeks flush crimson as she straightens her spine. “We’re just?—”

The manager’s gaze shifts to Leah, softening with concern. “Miss Carter, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you?” He pauses. “The police perhaps?”

Caleb’s growl becomes audible, making a passing resident quicken her pace toward the mailboxes.

Leah’s flush deepens. “That won’t be necessary…”

“We’re reconvening,” I interject smoothly. “Temporarily.”

The manager’s eyebrows rise toward his receding hairline. “Reconvening,” he repeats flatly. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Jude, seizing on the manager’s skepticism, flashes his most salacious grin. “We prefer ‘pack bonding activities.’ Very important for group cohesion.”

I step on his foot—hard.

“Ow! What the?—”

“Thank you for your concern,” I say to the manager, drowning out Jude’s protest. “We’ll be on our way.”

The manager throws his hands up in surrender, the very picture of a man who has reached his limit. “Whatever. I’m done asking questions I don’t want answers to. Just keep it down. I’ve already been dealing with reports of alphas making ‘animal sounds’ near your apartment.”

Jude perks up. “Which kind of animal? Because if it was a?—”

Mason, bless him, claps a hand over Jude’s mouth. “We’ll be mindful of the noise level,” he assures the manager, his voice a calm, reasonable tone.

The elevator doors open with a cheerful ding that feels wildly inappropriate given the circumstances. As we turn to enter, Mrs. Finley materializes in the lobby with uncanny timing, her sharp eyes taking in Leah’s rumpled clothes and the possessive way Caleb’s hand rests at the small of her back.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice carrying across the lobby with remarkable projection for someone her size. “Leah, you’ve returned. And with your entire... collection.” Her gaze sweeps over all four of us with an undisguised twinkle in her eye.

“Hello, Mrs. Finley,” Leah manages, her voice strained. “Just heading upstairs.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Mrs. Finley nods sagely. “I’ll bring by muffins in the morning,” she declares, as if this explains everything. “Blueberry. For stamina.”

Leah makes a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a whimper.

“That’s... very thoughtful,” I say, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of dignity as Jude struggles against Mason’s hand, clearly bursting to add some inappropriate comment.

“Been married fifty-three years,” Mrs. Finley continues, her voice carrying across the lobby. “I know what it takes to keep multiple partners satisfied.” She winks at Leah. “Carbohydrates, dear. And proper hydration.”

The building manager looks like he’s contemplating a career change, possibly to something that involves complete isolation from other human beings.

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