Page 155 of Pack Choice

“Are you sure?” Ford says in a really bad Count Dracula voice, baring his teeth and lunging towards Harper. She squeals in delight and jumps off her seat, racing around the kitchen with Ford in hot pursuit. As she passes River, he scoops her up into his arms.

“You will not harm the fair maiden, you ghastly beast!” he says in a pretty convincing British accent. “I will save her.”

“You?” Ford says, “you are but a mere mortal. You will not stand in my way.”

“Here,” Molly says, sliding the mixing bowl across the counter, “this will save you brave knight.”

“Uh huh!” he says, picking up the bowl and handing it to Harper. “Use this!”

Harper grabs the bowl with both hands and thrusts it towards Ford. “Stay back! We have garlic.”

“No! Not garlic! Urgh!” Ford moans, clutching his throat and withering towards the ground.

“He’s dead!” River says, holding up his hand for Harper to high-five. “Well done little vampire slayer.”

Harper peers down at Ford, lying out prone on the floor.

“He’s not really dead, is he?” Harper says, that crinkle reappearing on her forehead.

Ford jumps up immediately. “Of course not, lollipop. Look, I’m fine.”

She reaches out her arms and he picks her up, holding her tight.

“I’m glad you’re not a vampire,” she whispers, “because Mommy has been gobbling up garlic all day.”

“Nice!” River says.

“Hey!” Molly waves a wooden spoon in his direction, “you bonded to the omega with the funky scent, get over it.”

“You know I love your scent, little one,” he says.

“Me too,” I add, wrapping my arms around her like Ford had done earlier, that warmth spreading through me once more, loving this little family we’re creating together.

Molly rolls her eyes and reclaims her bowl, plunging her hands into the sticky mess and pulling out a handful that she rolls into a perfect ball.

“Want any help?” I ask her.

“No,” she says, starting to hum.

“Will you be serving this at the store?”

She turns her head to give me an unamused stare. “No, these are for me.”

“And how’s the store coming along?” River asks Ford.

Ford lowers Harper onto the kitchen counter and looks at us all with a wide smile.

“Actually. I think it’s done.”

“Really?” Molly says, looking up from her cookie dough with excitement.

“Yes, finished the last of the painting this afternoon.”

Molly steps back from the counter and claps her hands together in excitement. “Really?” she repeats.

“You want to go take a look?” I ask her.

“You bet!” she says, already heading to the sink to clean up her hands.