Page 150 of Pack Plus One

“Are you offering your shower or your company?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Both,” Caleb says without hesitation. “Always both.”

The directness of his answer, the unwavering certainty in his green eyes, makes my breath catch. This is what draws me to him, to all of them—the way they want me without apology or pretense.

“I’ll consider the offer,” I say, trying to sound casual despite the blush I can feel warming my cheeks.

Jude whoops. “She’s considering it! That’s practically a yes in Leah-speak.”

“It is not,” I protest, but I’m laughing as we make our way to the pack’s vehicles.

I end up riding with Caleb, the sleek black SUV practically silent as it moves through Sweetwater’s streets.

“He can’t hurt you,” Caleb says suddenly as we pull up to the pack house. “Eric. He can try, but he can’t succeed. Not anymore.”

I turn to look at him, struck by the certainty in his voice. “How can you be so sure?”

Caleb kills the engine, then turns to face me fully, his expression serious. “Because you’re stronger than he knows.Than he could ever understand.” A pause, then, “And because we won’t let him.”

The fierce protectiveness in his voice should make me bristle. Instead, it makes me feel secure.

“Thank you,” I say simply.

Caleb nods once, then gets out of the car, coming around to open my door.

Inside, the pack house is warm, the scent of home washing over me as soon as we enter. Mason and Liam have arrived before us, already moving through the kitchen as they prepare dinner. Jude is nowhere to be seen, presumably in one of the bathrooms trying out whatever new hair product has caught his fancy this week.

“I’m going to shower,” I announce, suddenly desperate to wash away the stress of the day along with the wallpaper glue. “Alone,” I add when Caleb opens his mouth to offer company again.

He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Towels are in the linen closet. Use whatever you need.”

I head upstairs to Caleb’s bathroom, a luxurious space with a shower that could comfortably fit three people. As I strip off my glue-stained clothes, I catch sight of myself in the mirror—tired, stressed, but also somehow... radiant. There’s a glow to my skin, a brightness in my eyes that wasn’t there six months ago.

It’s the pack, I realize with a start. Even without formal claiming bites, we’re connected now, my biology responding to their consistent presence in my life. The thought should scare me, but instead it brings a sense of peace.

The shower is exactly what I need, hot water sluicing away the day’s tensions along with the stubborn wallpaper glue. I use Caleb’s shampoo, the familiar scent wrapping around me like an embrace. By the time I step out, wrapped in a fluffy towel, I feel renewed.

I realize too late that I’ve forgotten to bring clean clothes. After a moment’s hesitation, I rummage through the drawers in the bedroom, finding one of Caleb’s soft sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. They’re both comically large on me, but they smell like pack, and right now that’s exactly what I need.

Downstairs, I find all four males in the kitchen, the scene so domestic it makes my heart clench. Mason is chopping vegetables, Liam is stirring sauce on the stove, Jude is setting the table with more enthusiasm than accuracy, and Caleb is opening a bottle of wine, his movements confident and controlled.

They look up when I enter, and something shifts in the air—a collective intake of breath, a subtle change in their scents. It takes me a moment to realize why: I’m wearing Caleb’s clothes, my hair still damp from using his shower products, too.

To an alpha’s instincts, I look claimed. Marked as pack.

“I borrowed these,” I say unnecessarily, plucking at the oversized sweater. “Hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” Liam says, his voice slightly rough.

“Keep them,” Caleb adds, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of me swimming in his clothes.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mason announces, breaking the charged moment. “Jude, the forks go on the left.”

“In this economy?” Jude quips, but he rearranges the silverware according to Mason’s instructions.

We settle around the table. It’s pasta and salad and good wine. Perfect for the way I’m feeling right now. The conversation flows and I notice them deliberately steering clear of bakery talk and Eric’s unwelcome appearance. Instead, they tell me about their day before coming to help—a minor crisis at the brewery involving a missing shipment of specialty hops, a dispute with a distributor that Caleb settled, a new beer recipe Liam is developing that’s giving him fits.

After dinner, we migrate to the living room, Mason and Liam settling into a chess game while Jude channel-surfs with the determined focus of someone avoiding more productive activities. I find myself on the couch beside Caleb, my legs tucked under me, his arm a warm weight across my shoulders.

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