“Seduction won’t work, Drake,” she snapped. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I’ve put up with your overprotective, overbearing—”
“Over-the-top, dominant, ass-holery,” Jacque offered.
“Yep,” Sally said, pointing to her best friend. “That. Definitely that.”
“Also unfair seduction tactics,” Zara added. When all eyes turned on her, she shrugged. “What? You all know Wadim and I completed the bond. Since then, I can’t win an argument. All he has to do is put his hands on me and I’m like, ‘Whatever you want, sir. How can I please you, sir?’”
“Uh, we’ll come back to that later.” Bethany motioned to the three females. “All of what they said. I have graciously—”
Sally shook her head. “I wouldn’t say graciously.”
“No,” Jacque agreed. “You’ve been a raging bitch, and I do mean that literally because you’re a female werewolf.”
When Bethany glared at them, Jacque held up her hands. “But you totally have the right. I mean, hello, you’re growing his baby. He did this to you.”
“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, alpha,” Drake grumbled.
“Just doing my part. Keeping it real.” Jacque lifted her mug as if to toast herself.
Bethany knew Jacque had just been trying to get her ire off of them and back onto her mate. It worked. “Yes, exactly.” She pointed at him. “You did this to me. I am the size of a house. I waddle like a duck, and I pee every time I move. So, you get to go build a damn sleigh.”
Drake sighed. “So, what I hear you saying is that you need some space.”
“You hear right.” She kept her tone firm, despite the fact that she wanted to take the hurt look out of his eyes. She knew he just wanted to protect her, but she had to stay firm or he’d stay glued to her side.
Drake stood up and gently laid her feet back on the ottoman. Then he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “For the record, you look breathtaking to me,” he said through their bond and then walked silently from the room.
Bethany felt as if she’d been sucker punched. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“He said something really sweet, didn’t he?” Jacque asked.
Bethany nodded, unable to speak for fear that she’d call his name and beg him to stay with her. Finally, after a few minutes, she managed to sniffle out, “What is wrong with me? One minute I want him in Timbuktu, and the next, I want to crawl all over him and plead with him to never leave my side.”
“Welcome to baby-making hormones.” Jacque sighed. “They’re a bitch.”
“And then you die,” Sally said dryly.
“That’s not how the saying goes,” Jacque said.
Sally shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, but it popped into my head so my mouth just said it. It’s called Jen syndrome.”
“Ahh.” Zara nodded. “I’ve caught that a few times. The only cure is separation from the infected person.”
“I think I hurt his feelings,” Bethany said, unable to take her mind off of Drake, despite the three girls’ attempts to distract her.
“He’ll be back in about five minutes,” Jacque said, waving off her concern. “And then you’ll send him away again, and he’ll be back five minutes after that.”
“I’m never getting pregnant.” Zara shook her head.
“Babe, you good?” Bethany turned to see Wadim’s head pop around the corner from the hall as he glanced in at his mate.
Zara gave him a thumbs-up and a sweet grin that met her eyes. “Still not regretting a thing, history boy. Quit worrying.”
Bethany’s head swung back around to the male and saw heat fill his eyes. She knew that look.
“Oh, boy,” Sally muttered.
“Later,” he said, his voice gravelly with his wolf. Then he was gone.
“See?” Zara pointed to where her mate had just been. “He pops up out of nowhere, checking on me constantly. And that’s not counting all the times he’s popping up in my head, worried that I’m going to suddenly freak out because we’ve—”
“Gotten your freak on?” Jacque offered.
“Danced between the sheets?” Sally asked.
“Banged up against a wall?” Bethany sat her mug down and then picked up her popcorn string and needle. When she didn’t hear anyone else speak, she raised her head to find three pairs of eyes blinking at her like cartoon characters. “What?”
“You’ve got Jen syndrome, too,” Jacque quipped. “We’re doomed. Sweet Bethany has turned into a raging sex freak. If it can happen to her, it will happen to everyone in the pack, and then nothing will get done because everyone will be banging—”
“I leave for five minutes, and you four are talking about banging?” Drake’s voice interrupted Jacque’s tirade. “Bethany?”
She squirmed in her chair, trying not to look guilty. Her eyes met Jacque’s, and the alpha female winced and grabbed her belly.
“Crap, ow, fracking pixie sticks!” Bethany dropped one of her hands to her large stomach.
Drake immediately forgot the dirty conversation and dropped to his knee. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Is it coming? Should I check…” His hand reached for the bottom of her dress. Three voices rang out, “No!”
“It’s probably just Braxton Hicks,” Sally said.
“Who the hell is Braxton Hicks, and what does that have to do with my mate going into labor?” Drake’s hands roamed over Bethany’s stomach as if he could figure out what was wrong by touching her.
“They’re fake contractions, basically. They will pass,” Sally assured him. “Food helps.”
“Lots of food,” Jacque added. “You should probably go make her something to eat. I’d get several different choices, too, since her taste buds are all over the place.”
Bethany tried not to snicker at them.
“Are you really okay?” he asked, looking up from her stomach to her face.
Bethany nodded. “I’m good. It’s passed now, but food sounds great.”
“Okay, I can do that. But don’t move. At all, not an inch.”
When he was gone, she looked back at the girls. “Food helps?”
“Dude, we were trying to keep you from getting in trouble for talking about banging. We all remember how happy Drake was when he found out Jen fed you bedroom advice like it was Halloween candy,” Jacque said sarcastically. She wasn’t wrong. Drake had not been pleased. Bethany had found out just how possessive and private he was.
Forty-five minutes later, Drake came back in, pushing a cart laden with food. Sandwiches, salad, grilled chicken, rice, vegetables, and pickles. “Ohh, pickles.” Bethany eyed the large jar. She’d turned out to be one of those pregnant chicks that loved pickles. Leave it to her to be typical.
“Do you need help?” Drake started to kneel, holding a full plate and fork.
“You are not about to feed me, babe.” Bethany shook her head. “Pregnancy has not made me an invalid.”
He sighed and set the plate back down. The Great Luna love him, he just wanted to take care of her. “I’ll be outside putting together something that they claim is a sleigh,” he grumbled as he stood. Drake brushed a finger down the side of her cheek before heading out again.