Page 142 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“I get that,” Presley said. “Mary, I live in London with my pack. We’re having coffee next week.”

“Are we?”

“Yes. You can bring your alphas. My mothers-in-law are here for the week. They’re lovely. But we can all have a get together. “

“That sounds crowded.”

“We have a large table.”

I looked toward the hallway again. Hudson’s voice drifted through, followed by Lincoln’s lower answer.

Presley softened. “Maeve worries.”

“She disguises it well as bossiness.”

“That’s because she was born without subtlety.”

Maeve snatched the phone closer. “I can hear you.”

“Good,” Presley said. “Then you know I’m correct.”

I laughed.

“Text me your number. We’ll arrange something easy. No pressure. We can even have a little tea party in my tiny cottage and leave the alphas to talk.”

“Your tiny cottage.”

Maeve nodded.

When the call ended, Maeve sat beside me again.

“There,” she said. “You now have a London friend.”

“You make me sound like a rescue plant.”

“You do need sunlight and careful watering.”

I leaned back into the cushions with Presley’s number newly saved when Maeve nudged my shoulder with hers.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

I looked down at my cold cup of tea and smiled. “That fate has terrible timing.”

“Usually.”

“And decent taste.”

Maeve’s smile softened. “Yes,” she said. “It does. Now you just have to let their son know with kindness.”

Chapter 24

Lincoln

Mary chose London.

Not for a trial but forever. I didn’t quite believe it until I saw her walk back into the penthouse. She may have had shadows beneath her eyes from fear, poor sleep, and a day that had involved her father, a helicopter, and more Russians than anyone needed in their lives. But when she stepped into the apartment, her scent opened with rain, blackberry, whiskey, and a burst of wild violet.

Hudson paused beside the console table, his hand still at Mary’s back, and looked at me over her head.