Page 158 of Pack Plus One

“Leah,” Caleb interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “Stop.”

I take a shaky breath, trying to contain the anxiety threatening to overflow. “I can’t.”

His warm arms envelop me and I can’t help but melt into him.

“We’ll help,” Liam says. “Starting with making sure you actually sleep tonight.”

I glance at the clock, surprised to find it’s already past ten. “I still need to finalize the opening day menu and?—”

“No,” Caleb says simply. “You need to rest. Everything else can wait until morning.”

I want to argue, but my body betrays me with another jaw-cracking yawn. “Fine,” I concede. “But I’m setting an alarm for five.”

“Seven,” Caleb counters.

“Six,” I compromise.

“Home?” Jude repeats, his expression brightening. “As in, the pack house? Our home?”

I feel my cheeks warm. Biting my lip, I give them a small nod.

Jude pumps his fist victoriously but wisely keeps his commentary to himself for once.

We lock up the bakery, and I can’t help casting one last glance across the street at Alpha Bites. The lights are still on, shadows moving behind the windows as Eric’s team continues their preparations. My stomach tightens with renewed anxiety.

“Tomorrow,” Caleb says quietly, his hand finding the small of my back. “Tonight is for rest.”

I nod, letting him guide me to his SUV. The short drive to the pack house passes in comfortable silence, their presence beside me more soothing than any words could be.

The pack house welcomes us with warm light and familiar scents. Despite my protests about needing to review recipes, I find myself drawn to the nest room as soon as we arrive, my body craving the comfort of the space I’ve claimed as my own.

“Shower first,” Liam suggests, gentle but firm. “You’ll sleep better.”

He’s right, of course. I’m covered in a day’s worth of bakery prep—flour in my hair, vanilla extract on my wrists, a suspicious smudge of chocolate on my elbow that I don’t remember acquiring.

The nest’s bathroom is a luxury I’m still getting used to—multiple shower heads, endless hot water, and enough space for... activities that make me blush to think about. I’ve barely turned on the water when there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Leah?” Liam’s voice carries through the steam. “May I join you?”

My pulse quickens. “Yes,” I call back, aware of the flutter in my chest.

He enters, already shirtless, his eyes darkening as they find me. “You’re exhausted,” he says simply. “Let me help.”

He undresses, stepping into the shower. Without a word, he takes the shampoo, pouring a measure into his palm before gesturing for me to turn around.

His fingers are magic against my scalp, working the shampoo into a lather with firm, methodical pressure that makes me groan involuntarily. “Good?” he murmurs, his voice closer to my ear than I expected.

“Mmm,” is all I can manage as tension melts from my shoulders under his attentions.

He works his way down my body with careful hands, washing away flour and fatigue with equal thoroughness. By the time he reaches my thighs, my exhaustion has transformed into a different kind of heaviness, a languid heat pooling low in my belly.

“Liam,” I breathe, leaning back against his chest.

“I know,” he says, his voice a rumble I feel through my skin. One hand slides between my legs, finding me already slick for him. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers are precise, deliberate, drawing circles exactly where I need them. I arch against him, my head falling back against his shoulder as tension builds with surprising speed. “That’s it,” he encourages, his free arm wrapping around my waist to steady me. “Let go, Leah.”

When I come, it’s with a soft cry that echoes against the tile, my body shuddering in his arms. Before I can recover, he turns me to face him, lifting me with ease. “May I?” he asks, always so careful.