Page 29 of Return to the Pack

We’re going to have to find a solution. We want nothing more than Luna’s happiness. None of us want to be stepping on one another’s toes living here or trekking through diapers filled with baby shit. We’re already overcrowded with the five of us living in a two-bedroom house. Add in a few pups underfoot, and we’ll be murdering each other for population control.

Chapter Eleven

Axel

After Callan and Luna eat, the triplets go to the garage to fiddle with their bikes, leaving Luna and me in the kitchen. I’ve got something to say to Luna but damned if I can’t seem to get the words out.

While she does dishes, I head to the fridge to grab a beer. Before I get there, I wrap my arms around her from behind and draw her into my chest.

“Mmm,” she says, leaning into me while water drips from her glove-covered hands. She’s taken the wearing gloves to clean dishes because that’s what Callan does. The only reason Callan does it is to keep the motorcycle grime and grease from smearing all over the dishes, but none of us are going to complain about Luna keeping her hands soft.

She’s so damn innocent, I get a surge of protectiveness inside just thinking of her.

I kiss her neck and release her, heading for the fridge. I grab a cold one, twist off the top, and step back to my seat at the kitchen table.

“Want help?” I ask before sitting.

“You could dry the dishes,” she offers sweetly.

“Sure thing.” I bolt to my feet. We all treat Luna like royalty now that we’ve all done our part to hopefully produce an heir. “Where are the towels?”

She lets out a giggle as she stacks a pan in the dish rack. “You don’t know where the kitchen towels are?”

“Why would I?” I start pulling out drawers, finding nothing but cutlery, dishes, bowls, and other kitchen stuff.

“We’ve lived here long enough for you to know where the towels are.”

“That would imply that I’ve helped with the dishes,” I say with a smirk. “That’s your and Callan’s thing.”

“Ethan helps sometimes.” She scrubs at the pan used to cook the meat. “There are five of us now. It’s a big job.”

“Warrick and I don’t do the domestic duties.” I pull out another drawer and find a stack of fluffy white towels. “We assume other responsibilities, like making sure you’re safe and bred.”

I step behind her and bite the side of her neck gently, wrapping my arms around her and resting my palms over her belly.

She places the last plate in the rack and leans back into me with a sigh of pleasure.

“To be continued,” I murmur against her sweet skin before stepping away and getting busy drying the dishes.

“Why not now?” Her lips form an adorable pout.

“I’ve got to do the dishes,” I say, reaching for a plate. “And you’ve got to put them away when I hand them to you.”

A frown skitters across her face, but she grabs the plate I hand her, dries it, and dutifully places it on the shelf.

We work like that in silence as I muster up the courage for my question. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance out the window.

The three triplets are making their way back to the house.

It’s now or never time. I pitch the towel on the counter and turn to her, taking her hands in mine and staring deep into her beautiful eyes. “Marry me, Luna.”

“Marry you?” Her eyebrows raise high. “Okay, I guess.”

“Do you know what it means to get married?” I ask, confused by her lack of enthusiasm.

The screen door bangs open.

“Married,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her lips with her fingertips.