Page 44 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

Lincoln huffed once, barely a laugh.

“I didn’t know who you were, I promise.” Mary’s mouth trembled before she controlled it. Which was good because she was still fighting.

I held the robe open but didn’t approach her. “It makes sense because Damien never mentioned a girlfriend.”

“I’m not surprised. He tried to keep me a secret from everyone.” Her words sounded so sad now.

“And you didn’t know who we were. You were in heat, in pain, and you came to us by choice. We asked. You answered. We’d do it again.”

Her eyes filled, which she almost poked out her eyes trying to stop. “I’m twenty-one,” she said.

Lincoln answered, “We know.”

“I’m a student who lied to you a lot. I’d understand if you didn’t believe me.”

“We do.”

Her chin lifted. “You don’t have to sound so calm about it.”

Lincoln made a low sound. “We don’t want to scare you.”

Mary’s gaze darted to him, then back to me. “I can’t believe you’re his fathers.”

She closed her eyes as her shoulders shook. My heart hurt because she looked like she might shatter from the simple effort of holding herself upright.

I draped the robe around her shoulders, careful not to touch more than necessary. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closed.

“I need to go,” she said.

The beginning of the end, then.

Not the end of wanting her. But reality had found us, and it had my son’s voice. She wasn’t telling us it was over. She was walking away.

“You need to eat first,” I said.

Mary stared at me. “Are you insane?”

“Possibly. But you still need to eat.”

“I’ve just discovered I slept with my ex-boyfriend’s fathers.” She swallowed. “Oh God. Maeve will kill me.”

Lincoln winced. “When you say it like that.”

“How else would you like me to say it? I had a robust interpersonal misunderstanding with the senior branch of my boyfriend’s family?”

I nearly smiled. I would have if she called him her ex again.

Lincoln reached for the water bottle and held it out. “Drink.”

“Is it holy water because I need a priest, a lawyer, a time machine, and possibly a new country to hide in?”

“Bottled water first,” I said.

“You two are unbearable.”

“Yes,” Lincoln said.

Her hand shook when she took the bottle and drank while I sat on the edge of the bed, leaving space between us.