Page 95 of Pack Plus One

To my surprise, Leah laughs—a genuine sound that makes everyone in the kitchen pause momentarily. “I did the same thing at my bakery,” she admits. “Different colored bins for different flours. Labels everywhere.”

“See?” Liam says triumphantly. “A professional agrees with me.”

“God save us,” Jude groans. “Now there’s two of them.”

“I bet she doesn’t make actual diagrams to support her arguments though,” Caleb points out, his thumbs still working magic on Leah’s shoulders.

“They were schematics, not diagrams,” Liam corrects. I don’t know if he realizes how prim he sounds. “And they improved efficiency by twenty-seven percent.”

“You calculated the percentage?” Leah asks, sounding both horrified and impressed.

“Of course,” Liam says, as if this is perfectly normal behavior. “How else would I know it was working?”

Leah shakes her head, looking between the four of us with undisguised curiosity. “How did you all even find each other? You’re so... different.”

An unexpected question, but not an unwelcome one. The others glance at me, silently designating me as the pack historian.

“Caleb and I met in college,” I explain, flipping a pancake with ease. “Business program. We were paired for a project on sustainable startup models.”

“I thought he was an uptight ass,” Caleb adds, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “He thought I was a reckless hothead.”

“We were both right,” I acknowledge dryly.

“But you worked well together,” Leah guesses.

“Terrifyingly well,” I confirm. “Our project won the semester competition. By the time we graduated, we’d already drafted the business plan for the brewery.”

“Then came Liam,” Jude chimes in. “The genius brewing prodigy who couldn’t talk to humans without having a panic attack.”

Liam shoots him a withering look. “I’m socially selective, not anxious.”

“And Jude?” Leah asks, glancing at the most outrageous member of our pack.

“Jude came with the building,” I say with a straight face.

“Hey!” Jude protests.

“He’s not entirely wrong,” Caleb points out. “We found him squatting in what’s now the taproom, claiming it was his ‘creative space.’”

“I was between apartments,” Jude clarifies loftily. “And I had excellent taste in real estate.”

“He’d been using the space to host underground art shows,” Liam explains, his tone suggesting that ‘art’ is a generous description. “Very avant-garde. Very... nude.”

“Performance art,” Jude corrects, unashamed. “And those paintings sold for good money. Which I eventually invested inthe brewery, making me a founding partner, thank you very much.”

“We kept him around because he knew everyone in the local art scene,” I explain to Leah. “Turned out to be our best marketing asset.”

“And now?” she asks, looking between us with genuine interest.

“Now we’re Le Roux Craft House,” Caleb says, a hint of pride in his voice. “I handle operations, Mason manages the business side, Liam creates the recipes, and Jude runs the taproom and events.”

“Four random guys who had no business working together,” Jude adds cheerfully, “but somehow created something that works.”

“Like a pack,” Leah says softly, almost to herself.

“Exactly like a pack,” I confirm, meeting her eyes. “Sometimes the right combination just... clicks.”

Something flickers in her expression—recognition, maybe, or understanding. She knows what we’re really saying. What none of us has the balls to say because, I know, none of us wants to spook her.