Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

“Very well.”

 

 

I hung up in a panic. I had absolutely no intention of going with this man, but if anyone could trace a call, it would be Reno. He had knowledge of modern technology, not to mention connections with some of the savviest men in the Breed world. I called his cell and asked him to hurry down to my room. I didn’t want to raise suspicion by looking for him myself.

 

“What’s going on?” he said, cracking the door and poking his head in.

 

“Come inside and shut the door,” I said in a low voice.

 

His eyes were alert and brimming with concern. Reno locked it behind him and took a few steps in my direction. “Why did you ask me to bring this?” He held up his laptop.

 

“I need you to trace a call.”

 

***

 

“If the human police can do it, we can do it better,” Reno said before taking Delgado’s number and doing his thing.

 

His primary concern was if Delgado switched phones. He knew how to trace his call history, but we needed him to be with Skye in order to rescue her. Worst-case scenario—I’d go willingly with Delgado. Reno said we’d cross that bridge and set it on fire once we got the call, but it was too early for him to come up with a strategy. Delgado didn’t know who the hell he was dealing with. I could be just as manipulative, only in a more subtle way.

 

All the babies were engrossed in a movie about unicorns while I helped in the kitchen. Cooking kept my mind focused, and I baked a giant dish of my famous chicken spaghetti. Once everything had come off the stove, Austin called the pack in to eat.

 

“Smells delicious,” Lynn said, setting my dish on the table. “You’ll have to give me this recipe.”

 

But I wasn’t hungry. I sat at the end of the table and made sure Lola was doing okay. They had found another small chair and put it at the kids’ table, facing the wall. Melody showed her how to play music on her tiny keyboard, and no one complained about the volume. Packs seemed to love everything about having children in their house, even the noise.

 

Ben walked around me and briefly touched my shoulders. “Can I get you something else to drink?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

I couldn’t help but notice how Wheeler clenched his jaw, and I wondered if those two were in the midst of a family quarrel.

 

“Just let me know,” Ben said in a low voice against my ear before walking off.

 

“I’ve missed your spaghetti!” Lexi spooned a generous helping onto her plate. “Seems like forever since I’ve had any.”

 

Reno received a text message and abruptly left the table. April carried on with Izzy about selling T-shirts for the bakery. They laughed at the idea of women wearing the Sweet Treats logo on their chest, and Ben suggested they have two cookies in strategic locations.

 

“I’ve never seen anyone put it away like Will,” Ben said, glaring at William, who was already finishing up his first round. “You put Denver to shame.”

 

“Thank God Denver’s at work and didn’t hear you say that,” Lexi commented. “Otherwise, we’d have an eating competition going on and nothing left.”

 

“I thought that was every night?” Ben said with a laugh.

 

Aside from my dish, they prepared fried chicken, green beans, coleslaw, and hot links. It looked like this pack loved to eat. My kind of men.

 

“Naya made the spaghetti casserole,” Lexi said, noting that only a quarter of the dish was eaten. “You guys don’t know what you’re missing.”

 

I turned around again and smoothed my hand over Lola’s hair. “How are you feeling, baby? Be sure you eat every bite of your dinner.”

 

“I know,” she said. “I like chicken.” Lola held up a drumstick with one side mostly eaten.

 

Maizy held a small book in her left hand, reading while eating.

 

When I turned around, I gasped. The casserole was now half gone, and when I looked around the table, I discovered why.

 

“You’re going to be sick if you eat all that,” I said to Wheeler.

 

“Doesn’t sound like you’re very confident in your cooking,” he challenged, tapping his fork against his nose.

 

“Oh, I’m confident, darling. No man can resist what I dish out.”

 

“And you really dish it,” he murmured.

 

“Anything you offer, I’ll happily put in my mouth,” Ben said, reaching for the serving spoon.

 

“Shut up,” Wheeler said under his breath.

 

Ben smirked and scooped up a forkful, cramming it into his mouth as if in a hurry. “Sometimes there are games you can’t win, so you need to learn how to fold and take the loss.”

 

“Speaking of loss, don’t you have a game tonight?” Wheeler kept shoveling my chicken spaghetti in, and my, didn’t that inflate my ego just a tiny bit.

 

“Yep. Don’t wait up on me.” Ben rose from his chair and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Except for you,” he whispered as he passed by me.

 

No one else heard his remark, and Ben left the room.

 

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