She blinks watery eyes. “I get you.”
Then she holds out her arms.
It takes seconds for me to lift her into me, sinking down onto the soft floor with her curled up in my arms. Nate watches us solemnly.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I say hoarsely.
Nate nods. “A parent should put their child above everything.”
“I know that now,” she says with a sigh as she nestles into me. “It took me longer than it should have to realize it, though.”
She climbs off my lap, reaching for one of the bags and digging through it as I get to my feet.
I lean down, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze.
“We’ll give you some space,” I say, jerking my head at Nate. “Take however long you want, and call if you need any help.”
“Or if you run out of candles,” Nate quips.
That’s not possible. There are dozens of candles in there.
How many candles does an omega need?
ChapterThirty-Six
Gabrielle
Glaring at the empty bag, I blow out a frustrated breath.
I ran out of candles.
But my whole body tingles in glee as I look around the room.
It feels like an honest-to-god, bury-me-in-blankets-and-tuck-me-in-like-a-burritonest.
My lotions and candles are carefully arranged on the surrounding shelves, interspersed with my rocks, artfully arranged in little sparkling circles. Something in my chest settles as I look at them.
The blankets I picked out are scattered across the floor, deep greens, purples, reds, blues mixing together. Then there’s the cushions.
So. Many. Cushions.
Lying back, I burrow myself into a particularly soft, floppy pillow and stare up at the ceiling.
“Gabrielle?”
I jerk at the sound of Hudson’s voice, sitting up to see him lingering by the door.
He gives me a small smile. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” I suddenly feel inexplicably shy, curled up here in my nest with an alpha at the doorway. He holds up a bag.
“Bought you something.”
My fingers twitch. “You did?”
He doesn’t move, and we end up in a weird stand-off until I slap my hand over my eyes.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Of course you can come in.”
