Jewel had gifted me a rare smile when I told her we had found our mate.
“You finally going to have sex, then?” she had asked with a smirk.
A few years ago, I had confessed to her, late one night after copious drinking, that I was a virgin. She had cackled and teased me, but I knew she didn’t judge me. Jewel was all about breaking out of the strict designation expectations and living as freely as possible.
Under Jewel’s guidance, I purchased half the store, buying a huge variety of bedding and pillows for the nest, along with toiletries and clothes. She had also convinced me to buy a selection of sex toys, which had made me blush, much to her amusement.
I wished I’d had more time to research omega heats. What if the things I’d chosen weren’t right for her? I felt terribly unprepared to invite our mate into our home. I was still reeling from seeing her walk into the interview room. I hadn’t let myself hope I would ever get to see the angel omega from the grocery store again, but there she’d been. A clawing discomfort had settled in my chest the moment the medics took her away at the store. Now I could finally take a breath.
She had been gorgeous in her black jumpsuit, her delicious curves on full display... and I knew I was a goner. To my astonishment, I had grown hard when I scented her. I’d never felt instantly attracted to someone like that. After the interview, I refused to change out of my clothes, wanting her vanilla scent to surround me as long as possible.
I couldn’t wait to get to know her more. The questionnaire she submitted had been… interesting. So what if our girl had varied interests? I didn’t give a fuck. She was perfect.
I checked the clock again, and it was official: it must be broken—the hands weren’t moving at all. Irritated, I leapt up and started adjusting and re-adjusting one of the cushions.
Ben walked in, a tray of pastries in his hands.
“You’re worse than an omega in their nest with all your primping,” he teased.
“Like you’re any better,” I grumbled, knowing that he had a breakfast spread in the kitchen so elaborate it would put most restaurants to shame. “I just want her to feel at home.”
Ben set the tray down on the coffee table and turned to me, taking me in.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.
“I know,” I said, shoving the offensive cushion back on the couch and moving to leave the room. Before I could take a step, Ben launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug.
“Cam!” he yelled.
“Fuck, what are you doing?” I asked, trying to push out of his hold.
“We need Cam,” he said. “Cam!”
“You’re going to burst my eardrum,” I grumbled.
“What are you shouting about?” Cam asked as he entered the room.
“We need a group hug,” Ben announced.
To my surprise, Cam didn’t protest. He came over to my other side and wrapped his arms around us.
“I know we’re all stressing,” Ben said. “But it’s going to be okay. We have each other. We’ll figure this out together. We’ve just got to focus on Josie.”
I allowed myself to relax into the embrace. I couldn’t remember the last time we hugged like this. Ben thought he lacked emotional depth—he sometimes made these self-deprecating comments about himself that killed me. I knew the truth. My brother was kind and thoughtful and often intuitively knew what Cam and I needed.
After a few minutes, we pulled apart. I opened myself up to the bond and could tell we all felt more settled.
Cam snorted. “You really thought you could hide that you’re anxious from us?”
“I guess not,” I said, chagrinned.
“You know you don’t have to do that,” Cam said gruffly, crossing his arms.
I nodded. I hadn’t been allowed to show any weakness growing up. I hid my anxiety from my family, but Cam and Ben had always known my struggles and supported me. Sometimes, though, I fell into old habits and tried hiding what I felt from them.
“Is the nest set up?” I asked, needing to change the subject.
“I put all the bedding and supplies near the bed and hung up those lights,” Cam responded. He surveyed the living room and gave an approving nod.
