Alpha Ever After (Midnight Liaisons Book 5) (18 page)

Bathsheba’s face softens and her gaze goes back to my stomach. “Both?”

“Pretty sure,” I tell her, smiling. “I seem to be getting a lot of side-effects that pregnant werewolves do, and Connor’s been helping me with them.”

“So what kinds of ideas does Connor have for the Primordials?” Beau rubs his chin, and I notice he has circles under his eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one tired of the endless babysitting. The Primordials aren’t bad guys, but they are a
lot
of work.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“I will,” he says with a nod. When I start to get up, he puts a hand into the air, stopping me. “But first…” Beau leans forward and tugs the scarf off my neck.

I squawk in surprise (and a bit of irritation), my hand going to my throat. “What the fuck, Beau?”

“Looking for mate marks.”

“Even if there was one, it’d be none of your damn business.” At the moment, I wish there
was
one instead of just a few errant hickies. I snatch the scarf back from him and re-tie it around my neck. “So can we be adults about this, please?”

“We can be adults, but I’m still your clan leader,” Beau tells me. The protective look has returned to his face. “I worry about you.”

And my anger disappears, because Beau’s been more like an older brother to me than just a cousin. “I know. But please trust me on this, all right?”

He nods slowly. “I do.”

I
’m
the luckiest man alive. I feel it down to my bones as I watch Savannah, her hands resting on her belly as she stands near one of the picnic tables. She chats with Ryder, who is busy arranging the bowls of potato salad, and smiling. Gracie stands near her, listening in and handing slotted spoons out when Ryder puts a hand toward her. My sister looks bored, her gaze flicking to all the men nearby, but Savannah just loops an arm in Gracie’s and keeps her nearby. My heart feels as if it’s going to swell out of my breast with joy at that small movement. My mate is keeping my sister in check. My mate and my sister, together. Smiling.

Nearby, Tony and Buck chat with Jeremiah and Sam. They’re talking football and for once, my chuckleheads are behaving. Sam - a were-lynx - is shoving some of Tony’s food into his mouth and Buck throws his head back and laughs at something Jeremiah says. Nearby, Beau is talking about Owen and Wyatt about construction and adding on to the already-sprawling Russell farm. Ellis is sitting with his mate Lily off to one side, and even though Lily’s cringing a bit, I realize it’s more at the antics of the Primordials (who have very loudly discovered croquet) than anything my pack is doing. So that’s all right.

Everything seems to be all right. It doesn’t matter that some of us are Andersons and some of us are Russells. Everyone’s smiling and having a good time. For the first time in what feels like forever, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I half-listen to Everett and Josh debate about how the Cowboys are playing this year, even as Josh’s mate Marie perches in his lap and sips at a beer. I’d normally be all over a football conversation, but my focus is on my mate and my pack. Someone says something and Marie glances over at me, then back at her mate.

I swig my own beer, my gaze straying back to Savannah. Fuck, she’s beautiful. I love seeing her rounded with child. My child. My
children
. Joy surges through my body at the thought of a family with her.

This is what I want. More than anything, I want Savannah and my children. I want us to be a family. Everything else is just details.

“Hello, earth to Connor? Rare, medium-rare, or hockey puck?”

Huh? I look up to see Sara - the little wolf female mated to Ramsey and Bathsheba’s sister waiting next to me, a notepad in her hand. She taps the pencil on the notepad and behind her, her hovering mate scowls at me like I did something wrong.

But Sara - pink and green hair this week - is all smiles. “I’ve asked you three times now how you want your steak and you just keep gawking at Savannah.”

“Rare,” I say automatically, and do my best not to look back over at Savannah. Of course, I fail about ten seconds later, but I don’t even care that Sara giggles.

Let the world know that I’m crazy about Savannah. I don’t mind a bit.

The moment she walks away, scribbling notes in her notepad, Ramsey glares at me and follows her. I’ve learned to pretty much ignore Ramsey and his moods. Will the guy kick my ass if provoked? Absolutely. But the only thing that will provoke him at this point is messing with Sara, and she’s one of my pack. Hell, she’s probably the best behaved one in the pack. Probably because she keeps her distance from the others.

“So is it official?” A voice to my right asks, and I turn to see Austin Russell moving to stand next to me, beer in hand.

I reluctantly pull my gaze from Savannah’s loveliness and turn to him. “Is what official?”

“You and my sister.” He gestures at Savannah with his beer. “Is that ridiculous scarf she’s wearing covering up a mate mark or are you two just circling each other again?” The look on his face is calm but there’s an intensity to his gaze that tells me that he’s more interested in this answer than he’s letting on.

It feels like a challenge, even though logic tells me it’s not. He’s a cat and he doesn’t know pack dynamics. So even though my wolf instincts bristle, I remain calm and take another sip of my beer. “She’ll tell me when she’s ready to make things official.” When Austin’s brows go up, I add, “Savannah’s calling the shots.”

He whistles low. “Finally had the light go on, did you?” A slow smile tugs at his mouth. “Starting to realize that you can’t herd a cat anywhere you want it to go?”

I nod slowly.

“Good. Remember this - cats like to go where they want. The more you push, the more we rebel.” He points a finger at me over his beer. “And remember this, too. She’s my sister and I’ll fuckin’ gut you if you hurt her again.”

I bare my teeth at him in a snarl. “I don’t plan on it.”

He grins wide. “Good.”

Savannah glances over at us from across the party and brushes a stray lock of hair out of her face. Her brows furrow as she looks at me and her brother, and then her gaze settles back on me again. She smiles, and I can see the color rising in her cheeks as if she’s thinking naughty thoughts about me.

God, I love that woman.

“Anderson,” Beau calls, and I turn my head to see which Anderson is getting into trouble. But Beau is looking in my direction. He flicks a hand at me, indicating I should join him and Ryder, and the big, hulking guy that must be Ryder’s Primordial mate.

I approach slowly, drinking my beer. I let my nostrils flare, identifying scents as I approach. The loamy, earthy scent of the wild is mixed in with Hugh’s strange cat-scent, and it reminds me of the other primordials I’ve been around. It’s not his scent I’m interested in as much as Ryder’s, though. Savannah told me she wasn’t human and I’m curious if I can pick it up. It’s funny, though, she does smell completely human…but there’s an undercurrent of something else that I never noticed before. Huh.

Sometimes I hate finding out that there’s shit going on right under my nose. Like I told Savannah, I’m not good with things being kept from me. Maybe it’s the alpha in my nature, but I don’t like secrets. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been burned too many times in the past, given my Uncle Levi’s old rule of the pack. Whatever it is, it makes me trust Ryder - bubbly blonde, happy Ryder - a little less. But then she looks up at her mate with an adoring expression and laces her small fingers with his big ones, and I see the awestruck, besotted look on Hugh’s face. I know that expression. I’m pretty sure I wear it every time Savannah looks in my direction.

And I slide back to liking Ryder again. Savannah likes her and trusts her, and that’s good enough for me.

“Connor,” Beau says by way of greeting. He reaches over to an ice-filled cooler and pulls a new bottle of Corona out, pops the cap off, and holds it out to me. I take it with murmured thanks and set my old bottle onto one of the nearby tables. Bathsheba immediately whisks forward to take it away, and I watch as Beau casually reaches out and runs his hand through her long, white-blonde ponytail, as if he can’t help himself and has to touch her.

And yeah, I know that feeling, too.

Bathsheba casts Beau a prim look that makes him grin, and he turns back to me a moment later. “I was telling Ryder and Hugh that you had some ideas for the Primordials. Good ones. About teaching them a skill like construction or building.”

Oh? I look at Ryder and see nothing but eagerness on her face, and interest from her mate. Out of all the Primordials, Hugh is the most steady and calm of the group, probably because he has Ryder at his side constantly. The others are like mischievous boys in enormous, overfed bodies. “It was just a suggestion,” I say blandly, even though I know it’s a good one. I’m an alpha. I know I’m right. I know how to keep distractible shifters in line. “I took a few of the guys to a class at the hardware store the other day on texturing drywall and they were really good at it. Eager to learn.”

Ryder wrinkles her nose. “Drywall? Really?”

I shrug. “I flip houses for a living. I end up at the hardware store a lot.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we taught them how to read and write first?” She looks at Beau.

But Beau’s nodding at me. “We’ve been trying to ease them into society slowly for a while now, and it’s been nothing but chaos. Bevan keeps running off and you know about the situation with Cahal and the girl, yes?”

I shrug. Savannah might have mentioned it but I don’t know if I’m supposed to know and I won’t get her in trouble with her cousin.

“Let’s just say he decided to take himself a mate - any mate. We’re lucky the girl didn’t press charges.”

“Yeah, you mean we’re lucky he’s good looking and she liked the attention versus her filing a police report for abduction?” Ryder groans and shakes her head. “God. Cahal. That man is an absolute bag of nothing but hormones.”

Hugh nudges his mate with one of his big, stripe-y forearms. “He is lonely. They all are. We have been brought here to a place with food and people and fine women as far as one can see…and told not to touch. Of course they do not behave. They want a mate like I have.”

Ryder wiggles her eyebrows up at Hugh. “Can’t blame them. I am pretty darn cute.”

“If their goal is to be mated, then we’re going about this all wrong,” Beau says. “They want to move faster than what we think is logical, so we have to move faster with them or we’re going to be bleeding crisis after crisis. Which is why I think you’re the perfect one to talk to.”

Again, more praise from Savannah’s cousin. My eyes narrow imperceptibly. This is starting to feel like…a trap of some kind. Is he setting me up? Is this a cat’s way of discrediting my pack? “Go on,” I say mildly, even though a storm is brewing in my mind.

“You do real estate, right?”

“I flip houses,” I agree. “Buy them on the cheap on the foreclosure market, fix them up, and re-sell them.”

“And Alice does rent houses, right? Last time I saw her, she said Jackson had his hands full between plumbing business calls and helping out with Alice’s houses.” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “There’s another good apprenticing job - plumbing.”

“Alice has a lot of females in her pack,” I warn Beau. Alice and Jackson are practically family and wolves look out for other wolves.

Hugh brightens. “My men will be pleased. Shifter females are their favorites—“

“Very young females,” I clarify. “Most of them still in school.”

“Ouch,” says Ryder, grimacing. “Let’s not breed us a bunch of pedo-bears, all right?”

“Pedo-“ Hugh begins, questioning.

Ryder pats his arm. “Long story short, it’s not gonna work with Alice’s pack.”

“But could you take some of the men under your wing,” Beau asks me. “Teach them a few skills? Practical skills? Drywall and roofing and construction would be perfect for them and it doesn’t require a lot of reading. We can worry about plumbing later on.”

I drink my beer and consider. On the plus side, the Primordials are big and tireless, so they’d get a ton of work done and I could spend less time on site and more time with Savannah. On the down-side, they need a lot of supervision, which would mean I’d have to lean on my pack a bit more….which might not be a bad thing. I know they’ve been lacking direction and the only time they move forward on anything is when they’re pointed at it. So if I put them in charge of Primordial work crews, well, Gracie will be happy. Not sure about anyone else.

But more houses flipped faster means more time with Savannah. And more money for our family. And it means that if the Primordials are with me, then she’s not being exhausted chasing after them. “I’ll talk it over with Savannah and see what she thinks.”

Beau’s eyebrows go up, which means it’s clear that what I said surprises him. “Savannah? Not your pack?”

“My pack will do what I tell them to.” I’m the alpha. That’s how it works. When Beau’s jaw firms with a hint of displeasure, I wonder again if this is a set-up. I’m just about to tell Beau we need a moment to talk privately and hash out whatever the fuck he’s trying to pull—

But Savannah’s tiny gasp cuts through the air and has all my attention.

The moment I see Craig show up at the party with an enormous bundle of roses, I gasp. How is it I keep forgetting about that guy? So awkward.

“Savannah?” Connor immediately comes to my side, a possessive arm going around my waist. “You all right, baby?”

Even though I’d love to stay, I slide out of his grip because Craig’s clearly scanning the party looking for me. “I need to talk to Craig. I’ll be just a minute.”

Connor growls low in his throat, and I can practically see his hackles raising.

I pat his shoulder and then stroke his arm to calm him. “It’s all right. Really. I’m just going to talk to him.”

His jaw clenches. “You want me to say something?”

It’s kind of…adorable how bristly Connor’s gotten at the thought of someone making me feel awkward. What does he think Craig is going to do? Weep on me? But it’s sweet that he’s so protective. “I’m just going to talk to him. It’s fine.” I stroke his arm again. “I can handle it.”

Connor’s eyes lock with mine and he nods and steps away. I’m oddly pleased by that. He’s trusting me to handle things. The big bad alpha’s letting the woman take care of herself. I know it’s a big deal for him and I’m touched that he’s able to hold back instead of shoving his way forward to handle things. He’s trying. I love that.

I give Connor one last smile and then cut through the crowd toward Craig. He’s wearing one of his sweaters again today and he looks bland and soft when compared to Connor. His nostrils flare when I approach, the wind probably telling him that I’m covered with Connor’s scent. His gaze immediately goes to the scarf at my throat. Without a word, he shoves the enormous bouquet of red roses toward me.

“Craig,” I say softly. “We need to talk.”

“No,” he blurts, and a wild look gets in his eyes. He shakes the flowers at me. “You invited me to this picnic! As your date!”

“Actually I invited you to be friendly,” I tell him. I’m going to keep my voice gentle, because I know he has to be feeling rejected. “You’re new to the area and I wanted you to meet some shifters—“

“You! Invited! Me! And now you’re wearing someone else’s scent!” His frustrated gaze goes to my neck. “Are you hiding a mate mark?”

God, scream it to the world, why don’t you? “No, and even if I was, it isn’t any of your business. We went on one date, Craig—“