“Not yet. But we’re trying. I just went through my rounds of testing at the institute, and we’ll be starting fertility treatments soon.”
Opposite breeds in the shifter world had a harder time producing offspring than the same kind. With Melanie’s inner animal being a panther, and her husband a bear—even if a poor excuse for one—they needed all the help they could get. However, because they had to keep their secret, just going to a regular doctor was out of the question. Lucky for Melanie, part of Bittech’s purpose was to help shifters with medical conditions under the guise of pharmaceutical testing of the natural ingredients found in the bayou.
“Are you sure you’re ready for a third one?” Renny asked softly. She knew things weren’t exactly great between her best friend and her husband.
A moue twisted Melanie’s lips. “I love being a mom. Although, I wish Andrew was more keen on being a dad. Don’t get me wrong, though, he loves the boys.” Said a touch more brightly than necessary.
Trying to convince Renny or herself?
Now wasn’t the time to push. She’d wait until they could spend a few hours together killing a carton of cookie dough ice cream and listing all the faults with men. “Well, I hope you get pregnant, just so I can enjoy the desserts.” A pregnant Melanie was a sweets craving and cooking one. As her best friend, Renny got to taste and take home many of the results.
“I’m going for a girl this time. A pair, if we’re lucky, to make sure the numbers are even. Get off the kitchen counter. No more cookies!” she bellowed. Turning a sweet smile on Renny, Melanie, who possessed some kind of satanic blood to switch personas so quickly, asked, “So will you come tomorrow as my plus one?”
“I have a pile of laundry to do. And groceries. And…”
“And this is why your life is so boring. Stop being so damned responsible for once and do something fun.”
“I’ll think about it.” Although Renny wasn’t sure a company picnic was her type of fun. Besides, Melanie had an ulterior motive. An extra set of legs to hunt her precious imps down.
Speaking of whom…
Matching mischievous faces peeked and waved goodbye from between their mother’s legs.
Renny blew them kisses, and they recoiled with harmonized, “Eews!”
To more shouted threats of “Don’t you dare lock the bathroom door,” Renny left with her son.
While Luke could open the car door and get into his booster himself, even buckle it, she still supervised. Surely this much autonomy for this age was wrong.
With her son safely strapped into his booster, she got behind the wheel of her older model car, something that came off the production line more than ten years ago. As she drove the road home by rote, she reflected. Maybe I should take Luke to the picnic instead of the laundromat tomorrow.
The free food at the picnic and the entertainment value might make up for the fact that she’d have to do the laundry one of her free nights the following week. At least for groceries, she could take Luke on Sunday. He liked it when she raced the cart down the aisles and then jerked to a halt before anyone caught them. Every time, he would fiendishly giggle as she emerged from the aisle looking prim and proper.
Or at least he used to. Her son didn’t giggle so much anymore.
Not since she’d started working all those extra shifts and ignored the question in his eyes.
Hard to avoid him when you lived in a space that was only a few hundred square feet. Luke had the bedroom while she got to sleep on the couch. But it should be noted it was a damned comfortable couch.
Space wasn’t the only issue. The apartment she and Luke called home wasn’t exactly awash in amenities—a tiny electric stovetop, but no oven, a small fridge, and a single sink for dishes, but it was theirs, clean, and, best of all, affordable.
Because no way am I asking Caleb for money.
Her pride wouldn’t let her beg that way.
However, looking over at Luke’s short-cropped brown hair, she had to wonder. Is my pride more important than my son?
Chapter Three
The music thumped, strong enough to vibrate against the skin, a hard bass beat, and that was all that was really needed for the girl up on stage to strut her stuff. Leaning back in his seat, Caleb eyed the dancer’s red leather boots. They looked new and still gleamed with that store-bought shine. Genuine pleather, unlike his snakeskin boots. Authentic skin, he might add. One of the few mementos Caleb had brought back from his time overseas.
The woman on stage wore a minimal amount of clothing. Actually, at this point in her routine, all she had left other than her boots was her thong. Less panty than a tiny scrap of fabric just enough to cover her shaven mound. As for her breasts, they shook and shimmied to the beat as she gyrated, still wearing a flirtatious smile.
For a moment, her gaze strayed to Caleb and then locked. He saw her eyes widen in recognition. She shot him a come-hither smile and a quick-winked invitation.