Page 21 of Pack Plus One

“We try,” Liam says with a smile, leaning forward to greet her. “Glad you made it.”

Mason nods from the end of our row, his expression unreadable. “Nice dress.”

She blushes slightly, smoothing the fabric over her knees. “Thanks. My friend Zoe convinced me to go for something more... noticeable.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jude murmurs, earning a subtle elbow from Liam.

Before we can continue, the music changes, signaling the start of the ceremony. The guests quieten, turning toward the entrance. I’m acutely aware of Leah beside me, of the slight tremor in her hands as she folds them in her lap. Without thinking, I shift slightly closer, letting my shoulder brush against hers.

She doesn’t pull away.

The ceremony itself is a blur of flowery vows and overly-enthusiastic bridesmaids. Eric, surprisingly, keeps his composure throughout, though his gaze keeps drifting toward our row. It’s obvious, even to me, that he’s trying to gauge Leah’s reaction, searching for some sign of regret, some flicker of what might have been.

Leah, however, remains impassive, her expression bordering on boredom. She yawns discreetly behind her hand at one point, which, for some reason, makes my chest tighten with something like pride.

“If anyone can show just cause why this pack cannot lawfully be formed and joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” the officiant intones.

Jude leans forward slightly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. Liam immediately clamps a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back into his seat.

“Don’t even think about it,” I mutter under my breath.

Leah’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. “Would he really?”

“Without hesitation,” I confirm.

“I would never,” Jude whispers, looking wounded. “Not without a very elaborate plan involving at least two costume changes and possibly a trained parrot.”

Mason sighs heavily from the end of our row.

The ceremony concludes, mercifully, without Jude causing an incident. As the newlyweds proceed down the aisle, Eric’s gaze drifts over us again, lingering on Leah with an expression I can’t quite decipher. Beside me, Leah tenses almost imperceptibly.

“He’s not worth the energy,” I murmur close to her ear.

She turns to me, surprise flashing across her face. “How did you?—”

“Your scent changes when you see him,” I explain. “Even with the blockers.” I immediately regret the admission. It’s too intimate, too revealing of how closely I’ve been tracking her reactions.

But instead of pulling away, she gives me a small, grateful smile. “Good to know. I’ll work on my poker face.”

“Your poker face is excellent,” I assure her. “I’m just...”

“Observant?” she supplies.

“Something like that.”

The reception is held in a lavish ballroom, dripping with crystal chandeliers and more white roses. We’re seated at Table 12, far enough from the head table to avoid constant interaction with the wedding party, but close enough that Eric can still see us clearly if he looks. Which he does. Frequently.

“Is it just me,” Jude says between bites of surprisingly decent salmon, “or is the groom spending more time staring at our table than at his new bride?”

“It’s not just you,” Mason confirms quietly.

Leah stabs at her salad. “He always did have a problem with attention span.”

The comment surprises a laugh out of me. There’s a bite beneath her sweet exterior that’s so damn intriguing. Even when the slight flush that colors her cheeks tells me she hadn’t meant to reveal quite so much of herself in that moment.

Jude grins, leaning closer. “So what else should we know about your ex? Any embarrassing allergies we could accidentally introduce to the wedding cake?”

“Jude,” Liam warns, though I catch the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

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