Page 14 of Pack Plus One
Jude leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “I don’t know—she clearly adored me.”
Leah snorts softly, the sound seeming to catch her off guard.
“She’ll be talking about us for weeks,” Liam adds with a small, self-deprecating smile, as if to say, “Let her”.
Caleb doesn’t say anything right away, but he shifts just behind Leah, close enough that she can feel the steady, grounding warmth of his presence.
Jude catches her eye and offers her the last petit four from a passing tray, plucking off the unnecessary gold leaf before handing it over. “Here. For bravery. Sugar helps with toxic ex-in-law exposure.”
She takes it, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Bravery for surviving Eric’s mother?”
“And for not bolting the second she opened her mouth,” Jude replies.
Leah laughs—a short, startled sound that softens the tension in her shoulders.
Liam slides her champagne flute closer to her, his voice soft but steady. “Drink,” he says. “You’ve earned it.”
She does, and for the first time since Eric’s mother approached, I see some of the tension drain from her.
She glances at me, then at Caleb, Jude, and Liam, her gaze lingering on each for a moment longer than necessary. Something like wonder crosses her face.
It almost makes my heart hurt.
It’s a look I’ve seen before—the surprise of an omega who’s never experienced true pack protection.
And suddenly, I understand why neither Liam nor Jude has questioned her identity. She fits with us in a way that’s oddly seamless. Her scent’s already blending with ours, settling into something that feels... right.
She’s responding to their protective instincts, and they’re responding to her need.
I should tell them this isn’t our hire. But the way she leaned into Caleb’s touch, the relief in her scent when Jude made her laugh…
Instead, I keep my damn mouth shut.
Whatever game we’re playing, it stopped being just pretend the moment Caleb growled at her ex.
5
LEAH
Two hours into this charade, and I’m starting to think I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Not because the Le Roux pack is awful. Quite the opposite. They’re attentive, protective, and unnervingly perceptive. Every time I shift my weight, one of them notices. Every time my smile falters, someone smoothly changes the subject. It’s like being surrounded by very attractive, very intuitive bodyguards.
It’s both flattering and completely overwhelming.
“Another drink?” Jude materializes at my elbow, his fingers brushing against my arm as he leans in close. Too close. His scent, citrus and something woodsy, wraps around me, making it hard to think straight.
“I’m good,” I say, lifting my still-half-full champagne flute. “But thanks.”
His hand lingers on my arm. “Dance with me instead, then.” The band has just shifted to something slow and romantic, and several couples are already making their way to the dance floor.
Panic flutters in my chest. Dancing would mean being pressed against him, his hands on my waist, his face close tomine... No. Absolutely not. I’m already in too deep with this fake date situation.
“I should actually check on my friend,” I blurt out, gesturing vaguely toward the entrance. “She texted earlier, and I’ve been ignoring her.”
It’s a terrible excuse, especially since I haven’t looked at my phone once in the past hour. Jude’s eyes narrow slightly, but his smile remains intact.
“Don’t be too long,” he says, fingers trailing down my arm as I step away. “I’ll save that dance for later.”
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