Page 118 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“If either of you asks me that in this shop again, I’m buying the ugliest thing here and making you live with it.”

I looked around. “That giraffe lamp is a good contender.”

Mary followed my gaze to a lamp with a long neck and eyes that were too big. “Oh, that’s ugly.”

“Exactly.”

“We should buy it for Artem for Christmas.”

Hudson glanced at me and smiled.

Mary was grinning to herself, unaware she’d just planned to be around for longer.

We moved through the shop, picking up items. Hudson chose practical things. A changing mat with raised sides. Bottles with good reviews he’d read online at midnight. A monitor that didn’t connect to the internet because he had opinions about hackers and babies.

I chose soft things. Blankets. Tiny socks. Two knitted hats with little ears until Mary looked at me as if I’d betrayed her personally.

“No ears,” she said, shaking her head.

“They’re small.”

“That’s worse.”

“They’ll be warm,” I pushed because the hats were cute.

Her eyebrows lifted. “They’ll look like mice.”

Hudson lowered the bottle sterilizer he was holding. “That’s too specific.”

I put the hats back because I was a strong man, but not strong enough to resist Mary when her mouth curled like that.

We were debating a crib mobile when an older alpha woman passed the aisle, glanced at Mary’s belly, then at Hudson and me flanking her, and smiled with recognition. “First babies?” she asked.

Mary froze for half a breath.

Hudson answered before the moment could bruise her. “Yes.”

The woman looked at Mary. “You look well, sweetheart.”

Mary’s chin lifted. “Thank you.”

“Exhausted but well,” the woman added. “That’s the beginning of motherhood. Then it becomes a lifestyle.”

Mary laughed, startled. I loved the sound of it in public. I loved other people seeing her with us. I loved the woman looking at us and seeing a pack.

Mary glanced between Hudson and me after the woman moved away. “You both answered that very quickly.”

Hudson adjusted the sleeve of his coat. “It was a simple question.”

“Was it?”

I knew that tone. Hudson did too.

“Mary,” he said quietly.

“No, I’m curious. First babies. Yes. Just like that.”