Page 128 of All Packed Up

Running a hand through his dark locks, Nic glanced toward the house before sighing. “Actually, I want Wendy to go with you.”

Grif all but recoiled. “What? Why?”

“Long story short, she needs her own clothes, and it’s important that she’s the one to select them. Can you take her?”

Amber gaze alight with intent, serious in its glow, made Grif’s stomach cramp. Did he want to know what kind of tight leash the alphas had kept her on, that she couldn’t pick out her own clothes? He bit down on his rage.

“I’ll take her. She can pick out whatever she wants,” he grumbled.

A sigh of relief fell from the beta, and he clapped Grif on the shoulder. “Good. Good, I appreciate it.”

“I want everything to dry out a little, so it might be tomorrow or the day after before I go. Just a heads-up.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Chapter 31

GRIFFITH

As his boots thumped against the porch stairs, Grif searched the banister for his coffee mug, but the damned thing had disappeared.

He sighed. Wendy must have grabbed it before she disappeared inside, and he told himself he had to thank her later for the simple favor.

He toed off his boots by the door, as did Nic, though it didn’t do him much good since mud was paw printed on his jeans.

Opening the door, Grif stepped in and held the door open for Nic, far too pleased with how the beta squeezed by him in the small doorframe.

As his gaze trailed from his squared shoulders to the living room, Grif had to double take.

The mattresses were standing on their sides and leaning against the back of the couch, which was pushed all the way against the far wall, making as much room in the living area as possible. The living room was in utter disarray… but what else would he expect from a giggling omega and her two stoner sidekicks?

The real show was the three forms bent in half, asses all sticking up in the air.

Tate lifted up from his downward dog and beamed. “Hey! We’re doing some stretches. Want to join?”

Did he want to join?

Debatable.

Did he want to do yoga?

Not necessarily.

But did he want to see more of… his gaze flicked from Arlo to Tate to Wendy and finally to Nic—everyone in leggings?

Yes.

“Oh come on,” Wendy pleaded. “It’s really fun, and Tate makes it easy to follow.”

Who said I had trouble following?

He kept his internal thought to himself but motioned at his outfit and tried to play uninterested. “Yoga in jeans? No thank you.”

“Go change, man,” Arlo said. Griffith turned a glare to the other alpha, but he was met with a smirk that said Arlo could see right through him.

Dammit.

“Nic’s joining too then,” he announced, and the beta stiffened.