He rolled his eyes but pushed the stroller through the doorway anyway, and I watched as he slowly headed down the hallway towards the open living-dining-kitchen area at the back of the house. Shutting the front door, I followed on his heels,ushering him to take a seat on the couch while I got him a tall glass of water and then dug around in the refrigerator for some snacks.
“Seriously,” I demanded, sliding the impromptu cheeseboard onto the coffee table, “did you actually walk the three miles here?”
Brandt shrugged. “I took it slowly.”
“And Micah was totally okay with you doing that? At barely two weeks postpartum?”
My big brother huffed and folded his arms over his larger-than-usual chest. “I would not have had to resort to such measures if you were not avoiding me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Sage.” His dark eyes bore into me. “I have called you every day, and every day there has been a new excuse—”
“I’ve beenworking,” I emphasized, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but neither was it the truth.
Brandt stared me down, his silence making me squirm.
I’d been spending my days subtly snooping for information about the scent blockers, but most of the betas I spoke to were understandably wary of my interest, given they all knew who my brothers were. And those who didn’t think that was suspicious were kind enough to remind me that, as an omega, I wasn’t allowed to attend the Unlocking parties anyway.
But, even with all that happening, I was dodging Brandt’s calls and requests for me to come and visit with him and the kids, which sucked. I loved my nieces and I desperately wanted to spend time with my new nephews, but I knew that Brandt would want to talk about Dex, especially after what had happened in his hospital room.
“Fine,” I sighed, dropping into the armchair which sat kitty-corner to the couch, “I just…I knew you’d want to talk about Dex and I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready.”
The past two weeks had been good for my relationship with Dexter. It felt like we were truly, properly moving on from our past hurts, and we were bonding over our mutual pining for our missing alpha. We were also finding our footing together, almost like we were getting reacquainted with the men we’d become over the century we had spent apart. He’d confessed that he wanted to be the sort of mate that Serge and I deserved, and while I thought the sentiment was sweet, it made my heart ache that he didn’t see how perfect he already was for us. For me.
It was also difficult to see him working so hard to change his image and his habits, only to continually be questioned by Eric or Damon as to why he was ‘acting strangely’. Dexter was hurting, and I couldn’t fix it for him. It didn’t matter that he had earned the others’ scorn: I still loved my mate —my best friend— and I hated to see him struggling like that.
And I didn’t know how to explain any of this to Brandt. Especially when I knew that Dex wanted to earn the town’s respect on his own, not through pity or because they felt they owed it to me to be kind to my mate.
Brandt was silent as he processed my admission, his dark eyes scanning me from head to toe before locking back on my face. “But…you are all right?” he asked gently, all traces of his earlier frustration gone. “The last time we really spoke, you were upset. And then when you came to meet the boys…”
“I know,” I nodded. “But I’m fine, I promise. Dex and I…we’ve talked.” We’d done a lot more than that. “And, look, there’s stuff I can’t tell you because it’s not for me to tell, but…he’s been through someshit and he’s trying, Bee. He really is. And I know” —I sighed— “I know you wanted to kill him for what he said way back when.”
“For being a bigoted designationist and breaking your heart.”
My lips curled upwards at my older brother’s protective grumble, but I shook my head. “But he’s really a good guy, Bee, and I…”
“Love him,” he finished for me, speaking gently, repeating the words I had confessed to him only a few weeks earlier. Before Dex’s heat. Before I discovered my fated mates.
Has it really only been a few weeks?I wondered in awe. It felt like a lifetime.
“I do,” I answered out loud.
Brandt was silent again, assessing, but softer. He seemed less inclined to track down my best friend and eviscerate him to protect my honor…or whatever other brotherly instinct was driving his ire. “He did seem to want to do right by you,” he acknowledged after another long moment had passed. “That day in the clinic, I mean.”
“Like I said, he’s trying. The past century hasn’t been great to him, and he knows the way he dealt with that was unfair on everyone around him. So, yeah, he’s trying to prove that he’s not that asshole.” I couldn’t help the pride that slid into my tone as I spoke. Lesser men would have given up when their efforts remained fruitless, but not my mate. He was determined. A fighter.Mine.
Brandt let out a light chuckle and sank back into the couch. “Eric has no idea what to do with a non-combative Dexter,” he told me. “He is convinced Dexter is plotting something wicked. Day is equally suspicious.”
“Yeah, I figured.” The smile slipped from my lips as I thought about how much their mistrust hurt Dex’s feelings, even though he hadn’t said it out loud. It was wearing on him, and, in turn, upsetting me. But it wasn’t my place to intervene or explain on his behalf. Not unless he asked me to.
Clearing my throat, I craned my neck to peer into the stroller, my heart creeping up into my throat at the sight of the two tiny sleeping babies. “God, they’ve grown so much already.”
Wearing soft, matching pale-yellow onesies, I almost couldn’t tell the boys apart at first glance. They weren’t identical twins, but their tiny features were similar enough to do a double take. It was their scents which really gave them away, though. Patrick’s smoky dragon scent was faint, but distinct, and Finlay’s sweeter, bubblier scent reminded me of Sergio’s.
The lump in my throat grew a little larger.
I missed my alpha fiercely.
