Pack
Marc held out his arms and waited.
Darren sighed. "I'm sorry, honey, but Marc's right. I need to recuperate a little. Don't be scared. I know he's not as good-looking as me, and smells like a pregnant doe right now, but he's harmless. And I'll be right beside you."
"Next time I get to wear the raccoon piss while you wear the aroma of pregnant prey."
"He who sprays gets first choice," Darren taunted. To her surprise, he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead before he handed her over.