When Veda opens the door, she stumbles forward, her mouth open as we cry, “Surprise!”
At least Jesse yells it, Major and I mumble, which earns us a side glance from Jesse.
“Oh my god… What– I don’t understand?”
She hands Mirasol to her mom as she scans every detail of our surprise. The crooked Happy Birthday bunting across the kitchen cabinets, and the mismatched chocolates and other candy I was able to find.
And finally, her eyes lie on the ugliest birthday cake in the history of baking.
My skin feels tight as she takes the design. I tried to write her name, but evidently, I’m not very good at writing with icing.
“The cake is gluten-free, sweetheart,” Jesse tells her. “I wanted you to have a real birthday party. One with a cake you can eat and your—”
She jumps on Jesse before he finishes his sentence. She takes her with anoof, as she knocks the wind out of him, but I know he doesn’t mind it at all. She starts perfuming, and now that I’ve been baking for a while, I can attest that her sugary scent ismuchbetter than the real deal.
Her scent is stronger than it’s ever been, sweeter than sugar itself. My knees buckle, and I have to hold on to the chair not to fall right at her feet. If this is how she is now before she’s fully recovered, I fear for the future of this ranch. There’s no hope of getting any work done with this Omega perfuming like this.
My pack brothers aren’t faring any better than I am. I can tell by the strain in Major’s jaw and the way Jesse’s eyes glass over as if he’s about to faint. Veda doesn’t notice any of that. She’s busy keeping her tears at bay as she thanks us again and again.
“Stop thanking us.” Jesse laughs but holds her very tightly in his arms. “But tell us you like it?”
Veda turns around in his arms, and only then I notice she’s crying. It kills me when she’s like this, overly grateful for something they should have given her from the start.
“This is perfect.”
Her voice falters and here goes my heart again, breaking for this woman. Veda’s watery gaze finds me and she steps away from Jesse’s arms to cling on to me. I have to bend lower so she can plant a kiss on my cheek, but I love her too damn much to let her go without at least a peck on her mouth.
“The writing doesn’t look good,” I murmur. “I’ll learn how to do better.”
She giggles. “No. I like it just like that.”
I don’t understand why she likes something that isn’t as pretty as her, but she moves from me to Major, kissing him on the lips too. Her hands frame his face, and she whispers a few words I can’t make out from here. My brother closes his eyes and drops his forehead on hers.
He’s so fucking in love with her, just like we all are.
Once they break apart, Manuela insists that we sing “Happy Birthday.” She’s right. We need to do this whole thing properly, even thoughwe are a couple of months late for her actual birthday. It’s okay, this is just the first of many parties.
“In Brazil, you give the first slice to the person you love the most,” Manuela points out as Veda cuts the cake.
Our little Omega scrunches her nose. “Everyone in this room is who I love the most. Can I split it into four? I don’t think Mirasol should have icing at this age.”
She loves me.
Manuela laughs at her question, but I see she’s just as stricken by Veda’s declaration as I am. We shouldn’t be surprised. Vedaislove. Every single part of her is made of the best that is. It shouldn’t surprise any of us that she gives her love so easily when she has so much in her chest.
Major tells her to have the first slice herself. We made the cake for her after all. In the end, we all sit to have a slice. It’s not perfect, but it’s damn good and Veda perfumes enough to let us know she’s pleased.
“You’re getting there, you know?” Manuela says, when Veda’s perfume is particularly thick after the third slice of cake.
“Where?” Veda asks, and I want to know too.
The woman doesn’t reply but brings her hands to Veda’s temple as if she’s checking for her temperature. I watch the whole exchange holding my breath, though I shouldn’t be thinking about scent-matching now, but that’s where my mind goes.
We don’t say anything about it. The Omegas communicate with their eyes, impressive for two people who have just met, but it’s obvious to anyone who wants to see that the bond is strong, attaching itself back as if they had never been apart.
For the rest of the day, we celebrate the women in our lives. We eat cake and make more food, all Veda’s favorites, which means a lot ofcarbs. Pancakes in the middle of the afternoon, followed by more cake. Gnocchi for dinner, which Jesse insists on making from scratch.
They look like potato-y lumps, but Veda eats them all with a smile on her face. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching this woman eat with this much gusto.
