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“I thought you gave that campaign to Jazz,” he says.

She presses her forehead against the table. “I did, but she was stalling out, too. So Lark asked me to step back in.”

I set my mug down and walk over, sliding onto the bench beside her. I rest my hand on her back, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. “Was it a bad meeting?”

She turns her head enough to peek at me, one cheek still smooshed against the table. “The worst. I spent forty-five minutes trying to convince grown women that the ultra-soft, scent-neutral toilet paper is revolutionary. One of them literally said, ‘I’m not putting my butthole on the internet, Cam.’”

I press my lips together. “That does sound challenging.”

“It is challenging,” she groans into the wood, “but in all the wrong, boring ways.”

Piers comes over and sets a fresh cup of coffee in front of her. “You don’t have to do it today,” he says gently. “You’ve been through a lot. Take the day off.”

Cammie groans but sits up, dragging her hands down her face. “I know. I just… I don’t want to fall behind. But if I’m being honest, I’m a little bored with it right now. The whole campaign feels ridiculous. It’s not like we have to include it in an OmegaBox shipment.”

“Then don’t,” Piers says.

She huffs. “It’s not fair to the company. OmegaBox’s whole premise is that we give omega-centered brands a chance to find their audience. And the product’s good. It’s just that no one wants to talk about it.”

She leans sideways until her head rests against my shoulder. I wrap an arm around her immediately, and Piers moves to her other side, brushing her hair back from her face.

The bonds that tether us together thrum. I can feel her frustration, but underneath it there’s contentment. The quiet happiness of being surrounded by us.

Beck’s voice echoes from the hallway. “Did someone say bored? Because I have several very naked ideas on how to fix that.”

I smile against her hair as Piers chuckles softly. We’re all still a little raw. Still sticking close to her side. Still needing to see her safe and happy with our own eyes.

Cammie sighs, leaning back in her chair. “I think I need a getaway. I feel bad doing this to Lark, but I really need a vacation.”

Piers nods immediately, his hand resting on the back of her neck. “No one deserves it more.”

“Hell yeah,” Beck chimes in, grinning as he leans against the door frame. “You fucking called in daily from your bed while you were recovering from being hit by a car. You’ve earned a vacation, sugar.”

Leith walks into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed. He stops beside Beck and surveys the room. “What are we talking about?” he asks.

Beck doesn’t miss a beat. “Cammie wants me to take her away from all of this.”

I roll my eyes. “She wants a vacation. We’re all invited. Right?”

She nods, a small but genuine smile breaking across her face. “I want you all there.” The words settle over the room.

Piers’ expression softens. “I know a place.”

Cammie lights up, eyes bright with excitement. “Really?”

Piers nods, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “The house is livable. Probably not to your standards yet, though.”

“I don’t care,” she says immediately, practically bouncing in her seat. “I want to get away. With you. All of you. I need it.”

I glance at Beck, then back to her. “Your heat is probably near, right?”

Beck, for once, doesn’t joke. “I’m guessing one week. Week and a half at the most.”

Leith strides across the room and sits down across from her, elbows on the table. He looks at Piers. “Is there a nest? She’ll need a nest there.”

Piers already has his phone out. He taps the screen a few times, then looks up with quiet satisfaction. “I can have a new mattress and bedframe there by tomorrow.”

Beck’s grin is immediate and bright. “We can stop by The Nesting Place on the way. They can deliver everything straight to the plane.”