“Then they can’t still have a trial over a serum we don’t even know really works, can they?”
“I’m sure the council will investigate. It’s what they do. But they’ll never get the formula out of my head. I didn’t give some of the factors that Keegan pointed out the importance I should have, the serious thought I should have given creating a child in a cup, for gravy’s sake. I didn’t even know what I’d do if it worked. How I’d explain it to everyone. But the council’s right when it comes to someone getting their hands on it. Someone could really make a mess of things. Maybe sell it to someone. It’s unthinkable. So no more serums for brainy Mara. My baby-making days are over.” The words brought with it great sadness—the loss of a dream.
Harry kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t think you should give up, honey. Maybe it would have worked. Maybe you can go to the council with the idea of a surrogacy plan in place for others just like you who want babies but haven’t found their mates. The idea that pack members pick out someone you have to live with for the rest of your life is nuts. I’m totally against it. But if you were up for it, I’d help you with all the details of surrogacy for paranormals. We’ll map out a, for lack of a better word, business plan, and present it. And maybe, if things go well between us, you won’t need to create babies in a lab,” he finished on a grin.
Her heart throbbed with excitement at the proposal Harry was making. “And Mimi and Fletcher? How will you explain what happened to you someday?” This troubled her a great deal.
Seeing him tonight when the children’s lives hung in the balance made her more sure than ever the next toughest road of all would be explaining Uncle Harry’s new lot in life.
He smiled, but it was tentative. “I can’t promise if there were ever a way I could change this, that I wouldn’t. The idea of being left here without the kids . . .”
Mara squeezed his hand. “No explanation necessary. I’d feel the same way.” And she would. To lose a child would be to lose the will to go on.
But Harry’s next request was simple. “Will you do it with me when the time comes? When they’re old enough to process it.”
“Why, Harry Emmerson, are you asking me to help you with a sensitive family matter that might not happen for years?”
Harry stared down at her, his gaze no longer playful, but very serious. “I think I am.”
The fluttering of her heart, the butterflies in her stomach were hard to hide. “Sure. I’ll help.”
“You know what that means, right?”
“I’d better put my speed-reading skills to good use and find a book on therapy for the family of a werewolf?”
“Nah. It means we’d better invite the Crypt Keeper, too. She’s a badass parent.”
Mara’s head fell back, her laughter ringing in her ears. “Point.”
Harry pulled her down to lie on the bed with him, tugging her to a sitting position on his hips. He began to unbutton the shirt the hospital had given her after a warm shower. “So you’ll show me?”
She planted her hands on his chest, her breathing labored when he pushed the shirt aside and cupped her breast. “Show you what, Harry, not Harold, Emmerson?”
“How to be a werewolf. You know . . . all the tricks of the trade?”
Mara flashed him a smile before gripping his wrists as his hands roamed over her breasts, his fingertips tweaking her hard nipples. “Only if you promise to do this in return.”
Harry groaned, pulling her forward, licking her nipple until heat pooled like lava in her belly. “Scout’s honor,” he teased, lifting his head and giving her body a shove until their lips were inches apart. “Open your eyes and look at me, Mara.”
She obeyed, finding his eyes were full of a million emotions.
Harry’s fingers stroked the back of her head. “I want you in my life, Mara. I want you to get to know Mimi and Fletcher better. I want you to help me get to know them better. I want you. Period. Any way you’ll have me. Before we go any further—before we do or say anything else, I need to hear you want that, too.”
In all of her wildest dreams, in all her fantasizing with Astrid about Harry, never had she ever believed any of it would come true.
And now it had.
Whatever it meant—whatever happened—she was going to go for it. No regrets. No waffling. No factoring in all of the things that had held her back before.
With one kiss, one searing, soul-offering kiss, she said, “Yes.” Yes, yes, yes.
Harry captured her lips, slipping his tongue between them and stroking her mouth, groaning into it as he pulled her shirt off.