Page 136 of Pack Plus One

I’m grinning now. Can’t help it. “Which is?”

“A surprise,” he says with a wink.

I know we’ve arrived before Jude even kills the engine. The scent hits me first. Hops and malt and something deeper, richer, like oak barrels and spice. The building is all industrial-chic brick and gleaming steel, with a massive lion’s-head logo painted above the entrance, its eyes glowing under the security lights.

“You…brought me to your brewery?” I breathe, craning my neck to take in the soaring ceilings as Jude unlocks the side door.

“Not just the brewery,” he murmurs, his hand finding mine in the dark. “Our second home.”

The word sends a shiver down my spine.

Inside, it’s even more breathtaking. The taproom is a cathedral of craft beer—polished concrete floors, exposed beams strung with Edison bulbs, and a bar made from a single slab of reclaimed oak that must be twenty feet long. The walls are lined with awards and vintage beer signs, but what catches my eye are the personal touches:

A framed photo of all four of them, covered in mud after what looks like a barley harvest gone wrong

Mason’s painfully organized clipboard hanging by the taps.

Jude’s collection of ridiculous novelty mugs behind the bar.

Caleb’s battered leather jacket slung over a chair like he just left it there.

“Welcome to Le Roux After Dark,” Jude announces, flipping a switch. The lights come up slowly, illuminating the space in a warm, golden glow. “Where the beer is cold, the company is hot, and the entertainment is...” He produces a remote from some hidden compartment with a flourish. “...private karaoke.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You brought me here to sing karaoke?”

“Not just any karaoke,” he corrects, guiding me to a table that’s been set with candles and a small vase of wildflowers. “Private karaoke. With beer. And me, who has been told on multiple occasions that my rendition of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ can make grown alphas weep.”

“With laughter or emotion?” I ask dryly.

He clutches his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, doll. Just for that, you’re going first.”

Before I can protest, he’s handing me a microphone and queuing up a song on the sound system. The opening notes of “I Will Survive” fill the taproom, and Jude’s expectant grin is so infectious that I find myself singing along despite my initial reluctance.

What follows is two hours of increasingly ridiculous duets, solo performances that range from heartfelt to deliberately terrible, and enough laughter to make my sides ache. Jude, it turns out, actually does have a decent singing voice when he’s not intentionally butchering songs for comic effect. His version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” is surprisingly tender, his eyes never leaving mine throughout the performance.

“Your turn,” he says afterward, handing me the microphone.

I scroll through the song options, feeling oddly vulnerable. Singing in front of others has never been my thing—I’m more comfortable with the repeated steps of baking than the raw exposure of performance. But something about Jude’s open enthusiasm, his complete lack of self-consciousness, makes me brave enough to select a song I’d never normally attempt in public.

The opening notes of “At Last” fill the room, and I close my eyes, letting the music wash over me. When I start to sing, my voice is quieter than Jude’s, less confident, but I find my footing as the song progresses. By the chorus, I’m lost in the melody, in the emotion of the lyrics.

When I open my eyes at the end, Jude is watching me with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before, all traces of his usual mischief gone.

“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly as if coming out of a trance. “Just... you’re full of surprises, Leah Carter.”

Before I can respond, he’s crossing the space between us, taking the microphone from my hand and setting it aside. When his lips find mine, I nearly moan in his mouth. His kiss is all passion and playfulness, his hands cupping my face as he pours himself into the contact.

I melt into him, my hands finding purchase on his shoulders as he walks me backward until I bump against the edge ofa table. In one smooth motion, he lifts me onto it, stepping between my legs without breaking the kiss.

“Been wanting to do that all night,” he murmurs against my lips when we finally break apart for air. “Actually, been wanting to do a lot more than that, but I promised Caleb I’d behave.”

The mention of their head alpha sends a shiver of anticipation through me. “And do you always keep your promises?”

His grin turns wicked. “Only the boring ones.”

Just as he leans in again, his phone buzzes insistently in his pocket. He groans, resting his forehead against mine. “I swear to god, if this is Liam asking about the fermentation logs again...”

---