Total pages in book: 254
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 240032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1200(@200wpm)___ 960(@250wpm)___ 800(@300wpm)
I snuck my hand around to cup one of his cheeks, and sure enough, it was. I leaned back and smiled. “Want me to massage ’em?”
I did—massage them, that was—in the shower right afterward. Gave them a little bite too.
And when we went to bed after that, I slept deeper than I ever had before.
Just me and Henri.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
The hardest thing in the world to do is pretend you’re fine when you’re not. And I was not.
I wasn’t even close to being fine.
When the knock came late afternoon on a Friday a couple weeks later, I’d been on the verge of having a panic attack all morning. Duncan had been aware I was feeling all kinds of ways; he had nudged me more often than usual lately, pounced on my feet in a way he hadn’t done since he’d been a tiny baby, and he’d sent me so many messages of love, I had never been so confident in our bond.
But I was still so nervous.
I couldn’t help it. I’d been dreading this day since Henri had shared the news with me—Franklin confirming it the next morning. I wanted to be calm and cool and mature. I wanted to be ready to roll with whatever happened with my head held high and joy in my heart. Chances were, and I knew it in my bones, that my boy wouldn’t up and decide to leave if these people were like him and he liked them.
He loved me, and he loved the ranch and everyone at it. Some days, I’d swear I could hear him chanting from the nursery “love, love, love” alllllll day.
But there was one tiny possibility that I couldn’t ignore: that he might change his mind. I wouldn’t be able to blame him either. It was obvious how much he’d flourished here. How much more could he benefit from feeling even more included? More accepted? I’d been just fine being something different around so many werewolves, but who was I to tell him what would make him the most comfortable?
Every decision I had made, for years, was with him in mind, and I would always do whatever was best for him.
But I still willed my body not to overreact. Nothing had even happened yet. Since when did I get upset over what-ifs?
There was a sigh from the other side of the door, and I knew who it was before the voice even said, “It smells like a bakery up here, Cricket. I’m coming in.”
My hands were still pressed flat against my stomach when the door opened and Henri slipped in, closing it immediately behind him.
He’d been in here a lot lately. So much, that his phone charger was plugged in to my outlet, and there was a neatly folded undershirt of his on top of my dresser. And that had kept me from having a meltdown too. Knowing he was there. Knowing he supported me in whatever happened next.
But in that moment, the man I was very much crazy over frowned at me. He watched me even closer than I watched him, his hands going to his hips, right over where his flannel shirt met his jeans. “You’re not crying, but you smell like a cinnamon roll,” he claimed.
I frowned right back at the man I’d spent nearly all my nights with over the last two weeks. He’d been working a lot, but we saw each other when he got home every night, with the exception of three days where he’d worked the graveyard shift because a coworker was sick. When we spent time outside with the kids, we usually ended up back in my room after that, even showering in my bathroom. I had wondered if Duncan would get cautious or weird, but my puppy had his spot on the bed and didn’t seem to think twice about the werewolf staying in our room. Lucky, lucky me.
“I feel like I’m going to throw up, Fluff. I don’t want to go down there.” I made a face. “But I can’t cry because I don’t want whoever is downstairs to think I’m weak if they see me with puffy eyes, and then they won’t trust me to be able to take care of Duncan.”
Henri’s face softened. “You’re not weak,” was his first argument. “But you have to meet them. Duncan needs you.”
I nodded, knowing dang well my face and body were both giving off every kind of sign possible I was dreading this freaking meeting. I’d purposely avoided thinking about it as much as I could. The Alaskans were coming, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it—nothing I wanted to do about it—so it was up to me to deal with it.
Henri came over, stopping right in front of me, so close his shins brushed my knees. His hand clasped my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my face up and giving me every inch of his amber gaze. “No one is taking him away from you.” He paused. “From us. No one.”