She doesn’t look put out at all as she pulls out a notebook to write down what I want, ignoring my alphas until Storm tells her the dimensions of the room.
“I’ll be your consultant for all of your nest needs,” she says. I can almost hear the inaudible groan from my alphas, but outside of her prejudices against my men, she’s been helpful. “I suggest looking at rugs next, as that’ll help you pull together your other items for your nest.”
“Thank you,” I reply, nervously looking for the rugs.
“They’re about half way down this wall, on the left hand aisle, Miss,” Hastings whispers, winking before disappearing again.
“I suppose she’s not all bad,” Storm grumbles as we begin walking. “It’s only when she looks at us. I wonder what her deal is.”
“Her eyes look familiar,” Lore says, pursing his lips as he thinks.
Hastings appears to be a little younger than me, and has beautiful black hair pulled back in a braid. She looks really polished to be someone Lore would know, but I’m a great example of being a seemingly normal sister with a brother in the mafia.
I manage to find a couple of bohemian rugs that make me happy. It’s a different direction than my utilitarian lifestyle, but I’ve never had the time to be able to have fun. My life has revolved around surviving and cleaning up my brother’s messes.
Next up is lighting, and I decide on low level wall ensconces. I’m not a fairy light type of omega, though they’ll do in a pinch for soft lighting. I also don’t think the loft needs a chandelier. That seems too fancy for me.
I want a comfortable space I can comfortably use.
“What kind of sheets do you want?” Wilder asks. “I also think you need more than a mattress on the ground. Let’s see what they have.”
Hastings has found us as she finds it necessary to write down what we want, but otherwise makes herself very scarce. In fact, everyone gives us a wide berth. My emotions are still raw after my heat, and I’m grateful for the non-fluorescent lighting in the store. My nerves can’t take how hot those lights are.
I don’t like to go shopping when I feel as if I’m fried from the inside out. This was one of the most intense heats I’ve ever had, and I’ve never been this sick before. Lore remains close by, though I can feel a tether between us. I’ve never heard of that happening before, and it makes me more certain than ever that we may never be able to be very far from the other for long.
“I like the recessed mattress look,” I muse. It’s like a frame that outlines the bed with a little platform to make it easier to put sheets on it. There’s a minimalist vibe to it that I enjoy, and the black option helps tie in the black of the sunflowers. “We also need a bigger mattress. I noticed people kept falling off.”
Storm hides a smile as he heads in the direction of the mattresses without being asked, ready to flag Hastings down if necessary. He’s decided he doesn’t fucking care what her issue is, she has a job to do.
“Are blackout curtains around it too much?” I ask. “They’d have to be hung from a wrought frame above the bed, and I kind of like the idea of it floating from the ceiling.”
“What color?” Wilder asks, ignoring my first question.
“There’s nothing you can decide you want that we’ll think is too over the top,” Lore says. “We want to spoil you, because you deserve this.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to believe it as I nod. “I want black velvet curtains.”
“I can make it so the curtain rods disappear because they’re wrapped in velvet,” Wilder says, his hands in his pockets as he thinks. “Then they will look as if they’re floating.”
“Yes, please,” I say, beginning to get excited. A part of me wonders if anything I ask for will be considered too crazy.
“You’re insane if you think we’re going to deny you anything,” Ransom says. “Where did she go?”
“I’m here,” Hastings says, breathless as she hurries over. “I was getting your mattress details to the right person, Marie. What else can I get you?”
I gave her my name at one point when she wouldn’t stop calling me “Miss.”
Wilder explains how much velvet I need for the curtains, not because I can’t speak, but I don’t know the dimensions of the room.
“I’d also like navy blue cotton sheets, please,” I add once Wilder is done. “Point me in the direction, though, because I need to feel the material.”
“The struggle is real,” Hastings admits, giving me a real smile. “It’s just behind you. Feel free to take anything out that you’d like. Something so close to your skin has to be touched.”
“Thank you!” I exclaim as my alphas chuckle under their breath. “You get it.”
We walk around to do what Wilder calls “fondling the sheets” as Storm returns to us.
“You took forever,” I pout, letting him pull me into a hug.
