I'd almost forgotten the invisible part of their pack. It wasn't as if I'd heard much about him, but the idea of another alpha to ...well.
That blush reappeared on my cheeks and I swallowed, looking out the window once again. This wasn't the time or the place to relive the intensity Gabe, Xavion, and I had experienced back at the house. Even so, my thighs pressed together and I shivered.
"Have to get back pretty fast," Xav whispered in my ear from the trunk. "Smells like you need all your alphas."
I looked back at him, keeping my voice low, too. "Is it normal for you guys to share like this?"
"Natural, really. Packs share everything."
"I'm an everyone not an everything."
He grinned at me and disappeared behind the seat again. "You can be both."
We stopped suddenly enough that the Hummer jerked. Tommy was startled awake and started to fuss. I hurried forward to shush him and get him out of that chair. When I'd been a kid, I'd ridden everywhere on my mom's lap. I knew it wasn't the safest thing, but having him all strapped down and away from me just...
I don't know. It did something that was probably completely illogical. Hudson opened the door and helped the two of us out.
Before me stood a log palace the size of one of those hunting lodges you see way up north. I'd been expecting a hovel, maybe two rooms and an outhouse. I'd thought I'd be cooking by candlelight. Instead, Gabe ran around back and, I assumed, turned on a generator or something. The house was suddenly awash in amber light, glowing with warmth among all that frosty white.
Tommy made a sound in my arms and I didn't hesitate. I took him straight inside and wrapped both of us in a pile of blankets. A heater kicked on and blew toasty air through the ceiling vents, though I assumed that such a large cabin would take a while to heat.
I heard the Hummer crunch away once more as Hudson came up behind us, carrying wood, newspapers, and a book of matches. He walked to the fireplace, settled the wood and newspapers, then came back to the couch Tommy and I had crashed on. He kissed the top of my head, grabbed the back of the couch, and pushed the two of us over in front of the fireplace.
Then, he crouched and struck a match.
A breath of wind from the fireplace blew it out.
He eyed the book of matches, which stated that they were wind-resistant, and struck another. I leaned forward and whispered, "Woosh."
That one, too, blew out. I smiled back at Tommy as he laughed. Hudson snorted at both of us and struck a third. Tommy was too excited. Like most little kids, he really hadn't mastered the idea of blowing yet. Instead, he yelled and spit at the match at the top of his lungs.
And it, too, extinguished in Hudson's hand.
I smiled, hiding it beneath my blanket. Pulling the little guy back, I snuggled him close. He nestled into me readily, his father's bold, dark eyes crinkling at the edges in just the same way. "Let your dad go on and light a fire."
"Daddy makes good fires."
His tiny voice melted me, like a marshmallow dropped in a campfire. I beamed at him. "I bet he does. Your daddy's probably very good with his hands."
Another match was struck, fumbled, but it fell into the paper. Hudson cleared his throat and blew into the flames. The embers scattered, but the flame flickered to life among the tinder. As it caught, he stacked a few smaller sticks, then a couple of split logs on the rungs above the tiny fire.
Was he blushing? I grinned at him as he faced me, a tint of red in his cheeks. I patted the cushion beside us. "Always room for more."
"I think it's time Tommy had his nap," Hudson said, directing a look at his son.
Of course, the boy whined at him. Who wants to take a nap when you're in an exciting new place? Well, maybe not so new for him, but certainly for me. I hugged him and mock-whispered, loud enough that Hudson could hear, "Maybe if you're very good and take a quick nap, we can have ice cream when you get up."
Tommy's eyes lit with excitement. He pulled the blanket off of me, which I was careful to let go of, and marched right off down the hallway. It was bigger than he was, dragging behind him like a superhero cape. Hudson followed him dutifully and I watched as the first log began to snap and pop.
It reminded me of being little at my grandparents' house, the place I now owned. I hoped that whoever was caring for my rescues was making certain the heat worked. Every now and then it would go on the fritz, making me spend money that I didn't have; but I couldn't let a sweet old lady like Carrie Ann freeze.
Mind you, she was the sort that'd just weasel her way into bed with you whether she was cold or not; didn't matter if the heat was blasting or if it was the dead of summer. She was a snuggler and you were in her way. I'd woken up more than once with a big paw whacking me in the face.
So, you know. I put my hand back over her snout. That's how you work with animals like her; you meet them at their level. She'd snort, I'd snort. She'd groan and shove me further off the bed. I'd laugh and pull her with me. She was a good girl.
"You have a real way with kids," Hudson said.
I jumped and looked back at him,
