Page 35 of Moon Blooded Breeding Clinic (Cambric Creek 3)

“We are, actually. Hard to believe, but we are. I’m not her boss anymore, for starters. Turns out that was sort of a big fucking obstacle, who knew? Hard to keep a balance when . . . well, it was just hard. Now we can scream at each other about all manner of shit and not worry about it being felt at work the next day. Highly recommend. What areyoudoing receiving letters from this place?”

Lowell stammered, possessing none of his brother’s loquaciousness.

“It’s-it’s um, a volunteer thing, for um, genetics, werewolf reproductive, ah—”

“You know what, never mind. I just remembered that I don’t actually give a fuck. You ever pull something like that again, you’ll be back at mom and dad’s house, taking orders from Liam. Make sure you lock the side door.”

The letter was a confirmation that he’d been selected and that his information had been given out, reminding him that if he wished to not be contacted by patients in the future, all he had to do was change his privacy settings on the website with his access code. He climbed into bed a short while later, dropping the envelope in the trash. He didn’t need a reminder that he had been chosen as a donor. After all, a donor was all he was, and it was a hard thing to forget.

* * *

Chapter 6

Moriah

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THE COUNT WAS ON. OBSESSIVELYtracking her ovulation for years had given her an advantage when it came to waiting down the month for the full moon. She was used to checking days off a calendar, tracking her temperature and cervical mucus, jotting down notes about breast tenderness and how much sleep she was getting in her little tracker journal. She knew the routine. But that didn’t make it any easier.

She had twisted in her sheets for days after meeting Lowell for the first time. She was able to feel the phantom whisper of his big hand encircling her waist, the heat of his breath on her neck, and the fresh, minty smell of him. In her dreams, she could feel the glide of his thick hair through her fingers, holding onto him for dear life as he pressed his face between her legs. She could still feel the scrape of his even, white teeth on her shoulder, braced around her as his thick cock pumped into her from behind, could still feel his fingers rolling over her clit and the shiver of his body beneath her hands as he orgasmed.

Worse, though, were the soft dreams she had in the hour just before waking, the ones that never failed to make opening her eyes a disappointment. They were the ones that left her hunched in longing, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest, alone in her bed. Those soft, rosy-colored fantasies of the predawn hours were built on the bedrock of his smile and infectious laugh.

She loved his sense of humor and wanted to entwine her bare legs with his and hear stories of his travels to places she’d only ever dreamed of seeing. In her dreams, she would be in bed, exactly where she actually was, but instead of a smooth, cool expanse of empty streets beside her, his warmth could be felt, and she would inch her way closer, invading his space, slowly taking over his pillow until his arms opened and he pulled her against him, never fully waking.

Whenever she had one of those soft, domestic little dreams, she would wake with a stone in her stomach, heavy and full. It would turn as she made coffee at her French press, having envisioned him bending his long frame into one of her little chairs, sitting in her pink and cream breakfast nook with a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye.

She wasn’t supposed to like him as much as she did. It was foolish to form an attachment, and she knew that.What good does having a crush on him do? It’s not like this is going to turn into a relationship. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again once this process is over. Who knows, the borders could reopen and he might fly back to the other side of the world tomorrow.

Moriah was aware that her head knew what it was talking about. It often did. Her heart, however, didn’t much care. She liked the dark-haired werewolf with the sparkling smile and wanted to see him again.

She walked into the Black Sheep Beanery a week and a half after that first afternoon with Lowell, waving across the dining room to Drea. It was early, the work crowd not having yet given way to the breakfast crowd, and she was relieved they had a table.A week and a half.A week and a half since, and a little more than two full weeks to go.

“Are you so excited?” Drea squealed as soon as she slid into the chair across the table. “Just a few more weeks!”

“I am,” she agreed, “but I’m nervous too. And the doctor mentioned that it usually takes a few months, so I don’t want to get my hopes up crazy high or anything.”

“Oh, of course not! Still, though, it’s exciting. Have you been doing your research? Have you thought of more questions for me?”

Drea was also the mom friend, the fixer, the one who always wanted to solve everyone else’s problems. They would talk about Moriah’s full-moon appointment, but she wasn’t letting her friend off the hook that easily. Moriah fixed her friend with a pointed look.

“Of course I do, but first, how are you feeling?! What are you at, thirteen weeks?”

Drea grinned broadly, resting her hand over an imaginary swell, for Moriah could see no bump in her friend’s abdomen, still as fit and lovely as she’d always been.

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