“I think… I think that’s what I want to do, then. Make each one a special time, one on one.”
“You don’t have to make any decisions about that now.” York stood up, brushing off his jeans.
The other two followed right behind and then all three held out their hands out to help me up. Three hands held out for my two…talk about overkill.
“This is ridiculous.” I looked at their hands and shook my head. “I only need one.” I didn’t wait for them to decide whose and instead, I stood up on my own. “I know the three of you don’t have jealousy between you, but I feel like I’d be picking one of you over the others. I’m human, so it’s going to take me some time to adjust.”
They seemed to take that for what it was.
“Are you okay?” Cashel reached out then pull his hand back as if having second thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“Your face is red.”
“Because I’m embarrassed.”
“No, it’s different.” He reached over and pressed the inside of his wrist against my forehead. “You’re warm.”
“It’s probably because I was running around.”
Although, by the time we got back to the cabin, I was beginning to wonder if I was coming down with something. It sure felt like a fever.
Chapter Sixteen
Cashel
Isabella. Was there ever a more beautiful name? As she dried the dishes and asked me where they went, a sense of peace settled on us. “In the top cabinet, okay?” She rose on tiptoe but couldn’t quite reach where we kept the mugs. “Ummm. Is there a stepladder in the house somewhere?”
“No, just the big ones we use for work.” I came up behind her and took the mug from her hand, set it on the shelf with the others.
“I guess you don’t need one.” She picked up a plate. “I think this came from a lower shelf, right?”
“It did.” I opened the door and showed her where to place it. “We’ll get a stepladder and put it in the broom closet,” I promised then stopped. “No, I have a better idea. How about if we rearrange things so you can reach them without having to climb for them?”
“Oh no, that’s too much trouble. How would any of you ever find anything again? And it won’t be convenient.”
Standing so close to her, it wasn’t the easiest thing to keep my thoughts clear. The scent that had been faint in the mansion perfumed our whole house in the most pleasant way. I couldn’t think what it had smelled like in here before, probably sweat and leather and other masculine things. But now? I inhaled the most magical air. Just having her present lifted the atmosphere, made me happier. My friends and I generally got along well, but laughter had never rung out as it did now.
None of us were happy that she was still married, in human terms, to the cruel bastard I’d kill for ten cents. Hell, for free. But we recognized that the satisfaction of blood retribution for howhe’d treated our mate would be strong; it would also be brief. If we were imprisoned, how could we take care of her?
So, we had to accept what we couldn’t change and embrace the benefits of what we had.
“Cashel?” She had her head cocked, watching me. “Is anything wrong?”
“No. Not a thing in the world, now.” I reached up to the mug shelf. “Let’s do it now.”
“But won’t the other guys want input? You must have had reasons for how it was arranged.”
“None. We all arrived here with stuff we’d had in our old houses or apartments and shoved it in the cabinets. Nothing matches, and it probably makes no sense. In fact, if you like, we’ll throw everything away and start fresh. Maybe a nice set of matching dishes and glassware. Females like that, right?”
“I guess. Maybe. But not me. Everything at my old house was perfectly matched, and it didn’t bring me any joy.” She looked so serious, I wanted to kiss away the tension around her lips. But for now, I’d focus on giving her the gift of being able to get a mug for the tea she loved so much. “So, no on replacing all your lovely things, unless you want to? Or York or Lyon?”
“I feel comfortable stating that none of us picked out our kitchen gear with any great thought. Mine are hand-me-downs and random gifts and discount store plates I bought when I realized I needed to have plates. So, whatever makes you happy will make us happy, too.”
“I washed all the dishes in that mansion but I not only didn’t pick them, I had zero say over how anything was organized. My—the one I’d prefer to forget set it all up and told me how to keep it. The saddest part was, at the time, I thought we were doing it together. It was right after we got married and we had so many gifts. He’d picked it all out, our registry? Kept showing me things and saying, ‘isn’t this nice’? If I saw something I liked he’d say,‘oh great, but what about this one’? And dumb little me would agree even if I disagreed. After all, as an omega, what kind of taste could I have?”
Rage bubbled up again at the thought of everything our omega had been through. We were well aware of the way omegas were thought of in society. Less than. Not as smart as. Deserving of only what was bestowed upon them.
