He settles against the headboard and grabs his laptop. Warm golden eyes flicker to us. “Let’s window-shop.” Hannah rounds the bed and climbs in beside him, rearranging the giant body pillow he bought her until she can sit comfortably. Heads leaning against each of his arms, we watch as he navigates to a realty website and enters the area code for Starburgh.
“What are our must-haves?” I ask. Making a list will help us narrow down the options. With nearly four hundred listings, we’ll definitely want an easy way to eliminate them.
A drop box opens, and Shep clicks several options, inputting the basics of what we want. Residential listings that are for sale,not rentals, within a budget we can manage. That narrows the options to a little over one hundred, which is still a lot.
“A nest?” Hannah suggests, looking at me over Shepherd’s chest.
Twisting my lips, I shake my head. “Kind of. If there are enough bedrooms, it’s fairly easy to convert one. A few companies have kits you can buy to complete the transition. They’re pretty awesome.”
“Do you want a bedroom for yourself, or will you be moving into our room full-time?” Hannah glances up at our Alpha when he asks, her cheeks turning scarlet. He nods and brushes his lips across her temple. “So a large master bedroom, one for each of the kids, a guest room, and a room for Manny. Another spare room if the house doesn’t have a nest. That puts us at a minimum of six.”
The listings drop by half, leaving us with a manageable seventy-three options.
Huddled together on the bed, we talk about our dream houses, slowly building a list of things to look for. Sleep weighs on my eyes, and Hannah is snoring softly when Shepherd finally closes his laptop. As we curl up in bed, my heart flutters with anticipation. We now have a list of a dozen homes to schedule viewings for, and a hell of a lot of hope for the future we are building.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’ve been bailingout on me.”
Turning away from my work, I find my good friend, Bea, standing in the doorway. She interned in the production department the summer before last, and now she works as a manager-in-training upstairs. Her sass and outgoing personality make her easy to get along with. We clicked during her internship and have been friends ever since, including getting lunch together twice a week now that her band isn’t on tour.
“Sorry, Chica, did I wound your cold heart?” I tease, slipping into my jacket and locking my studio door. No one would mess with my equipment, but I like to be overly cautious. My work is too important to me to risk someone fucking it all up.
Bea thumps my shoulder and rolls her eyes, leading me to the elevator bank so we can head out in search of food. “Oh, yes, I’m devastated. How will I ever survive a week without your scent singeing my nostrils?”
The sage in my natural scent, while faint, can be heightened for some Omegas, Bea being one of them. Not that she cares. To her, it means we aren’t compatible as more than friends. Which is good, because the only feelings that exist between us are familial.
“So, for real, what’s been up? I know you’ve been recording with Primordial Covenant and a few other bands, but your workload isn’t heavy enough to justify skipping lunch two weeks in a row.”
Shrugging, I step off the elevator after her and tuck my hands into my jacket pockets. “I met someone. Before you ask, I’m not sharing more than that. It’s too soon to know if things will work out.”
Her glare could shatter glass, but it isn’t nearly as terrifying as one from Mamá. I don’t flinch, so she pushes her lip into a pout. “Fine. Keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine.”
My snort is loud in the lobby, drawing attention from the other staff as we pass them. Bea enjoys gossiping about herself too much to keep a secret. Thinking back, I remember seeing her climb into Mr. Acherley’s car and begin to believe she may have discovered a way to turn the filter on between her brain and mouth. “Like whatever is going on with you and a certain budding silver fox upstairs?”
Bea growls, fists clenching at her sides. “There is nothing going on between me and that asshole. I’ve been staying at his penthouse—not my fucking choice, by the way—because Omen’s asshole brother tried to break into our apartment. My family decided that temporarily staying with Shiloh is in my best interest until he’s caught.”
Well, that certainly isn’t in the lane of spicy I imagined. “Wait, Omen’s brother?! Why would he try to break into your place?”
“Because he’s a brainwashed fuck nugget?”
I mean, who can argue with that? He was raised in an anti-designation cult after all.
“Sorry you’re stuck in that situation. Hopefully, they’ll catch him soon.” I tell her, opening the door to a local sandwich shop we like to eat at. It’s lively, packed with employees from themany businesses nearby. The wait is long, but it’s worth it when a gooey, decadent French dip sandwich slides onto the table.
We’re halfway back to the label when my phone vibrates with an incoming text. Pulling it out of my pocket, I can’t hide my smile when I see Foster’s name on the screen. He’s asking if I am free for our daily video chat. I quickly text back, telling him I’ll call as soon as I get back into my studio.
Bea bumps into my shoulder, grinning at me. “Happy is a good look for you, Manny. I can’t wait to hear all about the person who’s captured your heart.”
The elevator drops me on the second floor, and I hurry to unlock my studio. My phone is in my hands and connects as soon as the door shuts behind me. “Buenas tardes, Galán.” Ever since meeting Foster, I’ve slipped into my family’s native language more often. The way his eyes dilate, and perfume flows from his body, it’s obvious it turns him on.
“A good afternoon, indeed, Hot Stuff. Tell me about your day.”
Sitting in my chair, I prop the phone on my soundboard. Getting lost in our conversation is easy because talking to him feels effortless, even with topics as mundane as our days. My heart thumps rapidly in my chest, building a longing to see him that makes my fingers twitch toward my car keys.
“We’re house shopping.”
Mindlessly twisting the stud in my left ear, I consider the apartment he shares with other mates and their daughter. He’d given me a tour one day while everyone else was out. The two-bedroom space might seem cramped as they prepare for the new baby that is on the way. “Do you enjoy looking for houses?” Imagining dealing with a realtor, home loans, inspections, and everything else that comes with moving is already too much for me. I’ll stay in my tiny apartment forever.
