Ottis whipped around, his face burning so hot that he needed ten million ice packs. “I said nothing!”
Doc was leaning against the hallway wall in his hospital scrubs, muscular arms folded across his generous chest. His eyes were crinkled in a smile.
Ottis thumped his head against the wall, horrified. “Why isthatyour password?”
“Hijinks added it with my permission,” Doc said dryly.
“I would’ve made it a much fancier pickup line, but that would be easier to fumble.” The butler pouted. “If you say those pickup lines too many times, they’ll lose their magic.”
“I’m not sure they’re even magical, to start with,” Ottis muttered.
“You just haven’t experienced the perfect pickup line,” Hijinks said loftily. “Aren’t you going to have a look in there?”
Ottis jerked. “Oh yeah. The doors are open.”
He couldn’t believe he had already forgotten about that. He shuffled to the entrance of Doc’s hoard and looked around.
The space was divided into three sections. In the far corner, several pieces of antique medical equipment were packed tightly together, all of them lovingly refurbished. Closest to the door was a herd of rocking horses—large horses, small ones, horses made of the reddest wood, horses that were realistically carved, horses that seemed to be inspired by a child’s scribbled drawings.
“Rocking horses?” Ottis blurted, staring at an ebony horse inlaid with opal and gold.
“I’ve always loved them.” Doc shrugged sheepishly. “Something about the perpetual motion. A horse that never tires, even though it’ll always be stuck in the same spot. It’s not what most people would consider valuable.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed by what you like. These are beautiful.”
Doc’s smile stretched his mask.
In the middle, sandwiched between the medical equipment and the rocking horses, were building materials. Piles of richly colored wood, bolts of embroidered, satiny fabric, pillows and cushions that looked like they belonged in a palace.
These all felt so out of place. Why would Doc stash building materials in his high-security vault, rather than in a shed at the back of his mansion?
“Is this like a crafting hoard, but instead of yarn, you hoard wood?” Ottis blurted.
Doc took a breath like he was about to answer, and paused. His face turned pink. “Well.”
Ottis raised his eyebrows.
I’ve been collecting materials,” Doc said hesitantly. “Any time I travel and find something valuable, I hoard it in the hopes that maybe, one day, I... I might have an omega to build a nest for.”
Ottis’ heart thumped. “Oh.”
He barely swallowed the words on his tongue.Do you want to build a nest for me?
Doc reached out, lightly running the backs of his knuckles over Ottis’ belly. “I’ve been thinking. If you’d like—”
“Yes,” Ottis said.
Doc huffed. “I haven’t even finished asking.”
“I want everything. I’m a greedy fucker who can’t get enough of you.”
Instead of frowning, Doc beamed. “Then I shall build you a nest.”
Ottis’ heart fluttered again.
“But first.” Doc turned to face Ottis fully, his brow pinching. “You look exhausted, sweetheart.”
“Feels like I’ve been run over by a truck,” Ottis admitted. “I could sleep for days.”
