My upbringing has left me at a disadvantage when it comes to packs, mates, and all things related to Fate. I have no frame of reference, and being hidden away here means I cannot reach out and ask someone else, either.
Navigating the unknown is frightening, but having them by my side makes it feel manageable. I hope they mean what they say and plan to stick around after we’re free. Kaitlin and I will be heartbroken if they leave.
Chapter Nine
AcceptingFoster and Shepherd’s help isn’t as easy as my exhausted brain made me believe. It’s been three days since I fell asleep on the couch, and the tug-of-war between us has nearly reached a breaking point. They want to take things off my plate. To share the chores and childcare, but any time I see them cleaning or playing with Kaitlin, a sense of worthlessness fills me.
If they are able to fill those roles, where does that leave me?
It’s a silly line of thinking. One driven by the ideals I was forced to learn and embody growing up. Shaking those thoughts is like getting new shoes when the soles wear out. You have to wear them to break them in, and sometimes they leave blisters. Changing the way I think won’t happen overnight. There will be difficulties, times when I fall back to those old patterns.
Reminding myself where I am and who I am with helps.Sometimes.
“I thought we agreed I was on dinner duty tonight.” Shepherd scowls as he takes in the bowls and ingredients scattered across the counter. His scent has a slightly acidic edge, sharper than it normally smells.
Setting the last of the eggs beside the rest of my supplies, I turn to meet his glare. “We did, and you are. I’m only making dessert.”
His eyes narrow, jaw ticking. “Tell me what you want to make, and I’ll do it.”
“I’ve got it.” My eyes roll when his chest rumbles. He can growl all he wants; I will not let him order me away from my task. I also do not want to admit what I am making. His smug grin would be too much for me to handle without perishing from embarrassment. “I’m having pregnancy cravings,” I admit. It’s not the whole truth, but close enough that he won’t be able to tell from my scent.
“Fine,” he grunts, throwing his hands up. “What the baby wants, the baby gets. But you will leave the dishes for me to do later.”
“Yes, Alpha.” The words roll right off my tongue before my brain can catalogue them. So full of sass that I can almost taste it. I tense, uncertain if he will take the admission to mean more than it does.
A purr vibrates to life in his chest, and his eyes fill with a heat so scorching it makes my knees weak. He takes a step closer, fingers reaching out to pinch my chin and tilt my head back until I’m looking up at him. “I adore your sparks, Wildfire. They’re proof of how strong you are.”
Just as quickly, he drops his grip and walks away, leaving me in stunned silence. I’m so turned on, I don’t know what to do with myself. What’s a woman to do when the walls are paper-thin and she shares a bed with her four-year-old?
Shaking my head, I focus on baking. This is one craving I can actually satisfy.
Biting back a smile, I nudge Kaitlin’s arm with my elbow. “You may be done as long as your belly is full.”
We’re having a late dinner after another day of splashing in the pool outside. The humidity should have warned us of the incoming rain, but we hadn’t noticed until it poured down on us. After rushing inside, I swept my little bug into a bath while Shepherd made dinner. The steak, spiced potatoes, and corncobs were very filling after an exhausting day.
Which is probably why my ravenous daughter scarfed half of her food down before her eyes started slipping closed every couple of seconds.
“Okay, Mommy. I be done, please.”
Nodding, I start to stand to clear her plate, but Foster beats me to it. “I’ve got it! I heard you made dessert. Something sweet sounds amazing after such a savory dinner.” Heat immediately floods my cheeks as he walks the short distance to the kitchen and grabs the foil-wrapped tray sitting at the back of the counter. How could they miss that the thing I’ve been craving is the exact dessert Foster smells like?
When I was baking earlier, all I could think of was satisfying the craving I’ve been having lately. Now, hours later, when I know these two are going to enjoy them too, embarrassment is seeping in. There is no way they will open the container and not realize the implications.
“C’mon, princess.” Shepherd steps around the table and swings Kait into his arms. “Let’s get you settled on the couch with a movie and a blanket before you fall asleep.” Her tinyarms wrap around his neck, hugging him tight. The sight of her nestling against his chest sends butterflies into flight in my stomach. There is no way either of us is walking away from this safe house with our hearts intact.
The sound of foil rustling snaps my attention back to the table. My eyes are wide as I watch Foster unwrap the lemon bars. His lips part, mouth falling open as the wonderful aroma of citrusy lemons and sugary sweetness fills the air, with a hint of buttery shortbread to balance the other scents out. The distinct notes of his scent swell as his eyes flicker to meet mine. There is something so… human about his smell that it’s easy to tell what is coming from him and what is from dessert.
“Delicious,” Shepherd groans, rejoining us. One of his thick arms wraps around Foster’s shoulders, and his nose presses against the Omega’s neck. His deep inhale is audible, drawing dampness between my thighs. Fates, I want to do that too. Get close enough to pick apart all the intricate details of both of their scents.
Choking back a sigh of longing, I distract myself by grabbing the small stack of plates and spreading them out. “I can serve.”
“No way, Angel. You baked us these treats, so sit your pretty ass down and let us serve you.”
I know Foster is talking about the lemon bars, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about them at all. The heat in his expression definitely seems like he’s hinting at something more.
As he slices the bars and carefully pulls them out to plate them, the muscles in his forearms cord. Who knew watching a man serve dessert could be so enthralling? The way he moves and flexes… it’s almost erotic. That’s weird, right? To be turned on by a guy’s arms?
They both wait, watching me as I slice off a small piece and bring it to my mouth. Flavor bursts across my tongue, as close to what I’m craving as I can get without crossing boundaries. Amoan slips up my throat, earning matching grins before they dig into their plates. The tension between the three of us is so thick it feels like we might suffocate on it.
