11. Devon
When Jeremy had told me he needed extra plywood for the project apartment in an offhand comment, I decided that I needed to be a good packmate and take some to him.
It had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to catch a glance of the omega who Jeremy was falling for, hard and fast.
He had sent me a photo of the omega sitting with Gilbert, feeding him a fry. Her face was obscured somewhat by her hair, but it was a cute scene.
On the drive over, I had thought about how I would need to be sneaky to catch a glance of her without seeming like a total creep-show stalker.
Turns out, I didn’t need to be careful at all, because she was standing in the recently renovated kitchen in the project apartment, blaring some sort of bubble-gum pop as she baked.
While forming dough of some variety, she sang along with the music. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail of cascading red curls, and she wore a tight, long-sleeve black shirt that hugged her bump beautifully and leggings that showed off every curve of her body.
She was stunning, and either she was baking with apples and some sort of rich brown sugar—which was a possibility—or she smelled fucking divine.
She hadn’t even noticed me entering the apartment, which gave me pause. Her lack of awareness was worrying; I could have been anyone. Then again, Jeremy had outfitted the place with a sturdy door and two separate locks—I just happened to have keys to both locks. Jeremy had mentioned putting a deadbolt on her door, so clearly, she needed the extra security.
“You don’t look like Jeremy,” I said from the doorway, not bothering to stifle my chuckle.
“Holy f—” She jumped, the ceramic mixing bowl in her hand falling to the floor, shattering against the very tile I had helped Jeremy install a few weeks ago.
I darted forward, driven by instinct, holding my hands out. “Don’t move!” I ordered, putting all my alpha growl behind the words to ensure she listened, since the ceramic was sharp and could easily cut her. She had nothing on her feet, not even a pair of slippers. Why hadn’t Jeremy bought her some slippers? The tile was cold and not ideal for bare feet. If she hurt herself, I would feel terrible, and Jeremy would probably do his best to maim me—and succeed.
“Who are you?” she asked, panting. One hand rested over her heart while the other reached behind her, pressing against her lower back, which no doubt ached from the sheer pressure of her baby bump. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m Devon, and I should be asking you why you’re here,” I said, leaning down and picking up the larger bits of broken bowl. Even though it was fairly obvious who she was, I still wanted her to introduce herself, so I didn’t come off creepy and stalkerish.
“Oh! You’re Jeremy’s packmate, the one he owns the construction company with?” she said. Up close I could tell that the delicious smell was, in fact, her and not whatever she was making.
“I am. He’s told you about me?” I asked, looking up. She was still panting from the surprise, and it only drew my attention to her low-cut top. I didn’t think the top was meant to be revealing, but she was spilling out of it, exposing curves that had my cock standing to attention and straining against my zipper.
“He talks about you and Nate fairly regularly.”
“And I’m guessing you’re Daisy?” I asked, doing my best to avoid looking at her chest. I couldn’t let myself have dirty thoughts about a noticeably pregnant omega I’d just met.
“I am.” She nodded in confirmation. Not that I needed it. How many heavily pregnant, redheaded omegas would be in my packmate’s apartment?
“Whatever you’re making smells amazing. Sorry for startling you,” I said sheepishly, taking in the mess I had caused. From the looks of it, she’d been having a nice day of baking, listening to music, and playing with the dog.
“No worries. You have more right to be here than me.”
What I didn’t say was that her presence warmed the apartment in a way we’d never experienced at the packhouse. The apartment felt homey—full of sweet smells and music—and that was because of her.
I shrugged. “You have every right to be here if Jeremy invited you.”
“He did.” She nodded. “I kept baking him cookies to say thank you for all the help he’s been giving me, but a pipe burst in my place, and now my oven just refuses to work, so Jeremy offered his kitchen.”
“Ahh, you’re the reason he’s consuming a million cookies a week. His coach is pissed he’s gained weight, but Jeremy couldn’t care less. He loves those cookies. I stole one from him, and he nearly threw me out the window!”
“Well, that’s not very nice of him! To answer your earlier question, I’m making snickerdoodles. There are some about to come out of the oven if you want some? There won’t be as many as I planned...” She looked at the discarded dough being cleaned off the floor.
“If I ever say no to cookies, could you just do me a favor and put me down? Because something would be very wrong with me to reject freshly baked treats.” One thing about me—I had a sweet tooth that could rival a feral toddler’s. If it was sweet, I would eat it.
I wouldn’t have minded including a certain sweet-smelling omega in that.
She bit her lip, but that did nothing to stop her laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Why don’t you go sit down? I can get these out of the oven when they’re ready. You look ready to pop.” I looked around and noticed the overly stuffed green armchair in the corner of the room. “Yours?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
Her face turned a beautiful shade of pink. “Jeremy hated that there was nowhere for me to sit while he cooked,” she admitted.
That pleased me. She should have somewhere comfortable to sit down while her cookies baked.
“Sounds like Jeremy. Go sit, and I’ll start cleanup—actually, wait.” I was wearing thick work boots, and she wasn’t. “Can I pick you up? I don’t want you to cut your feet on any wayward pieces of broken bowl.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Thanks to the sweet parasite, I’m the size of a house. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Was she insinuating that she, a tiny slip of an omega, was too heavy for me to carry?
I scoffed. “I may not look the strongest, but I assure you, I can lift you easily. Come here.” Without waiting for an answer, I scooped her up in my arms. I didn’t want to give her time to come up with more stupid excuses, because that’s exactly what they were: stupid. She yipped in surprise, her hands shooting out to grip my neck as I held her bridal style. Her concerns were unfounded—she hardly weighed anything, even with her extra passenger. If anything, she felt too light. Was Jeremy making sure she ate enough? I was going to have a word with him as soon as possible. He wasn’t the kind to let an omega in need go hungry, but her spine felt a little too pronounced for my liking.
“Oh, I—” She stumbled over her words.
“I’m wearing steel-toed work boots, and you have adorable bare feet, so this is for your own good,” I insisted, gently placing her on the armchair, marveling at the genius of Jeremy’s idea. This way, she was near but resting.
That puck head was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for.
She remained in her seat as I grabbed the throw blanket and placed it over her lap before returning to the chaos I had created in front of the oven.
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Daisy asked as I grabbed a pair of oven mitts.
“Jeremy mentioned needing some plywood for a project of his, and I thought I would be a good packmate and bring it to him. Also, getting to see the omega he’s infatuated with is a bonus.” I smirked at her as I grabbed a broom and started sweeping up every last shard of bowl and cookie dough that had been flung around the kitchen.
She blushed a delightful pink color. “He’s not infatuated with me,” she muttered, unable to meet my eye.
“He totally is. Last time we saw him, he spoke about you at length—and he only had glowing praise.”
That boy was downright twitterpated, and I was starting to see why.
She snorted, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Did he tell you how we met? It’s really not a story I can be praised for!”
“He didn’t,” I admitted.
“I’ve been having some really bad morning sickness, only it is in no way restricted to just the morning. It’s all-day sickness.” She grimaced, and I winced—that truly sucked. “Anyway, one day, Jeremy was cooking, and holy heck, it smelled so good. I tried to ignore it, but the smell kept wafting into my place until I thought I was genuinely starting to go mad with need.”
“I’m guessing it was Korean food...or any Asian food. That’s his strong suit, for sure.”
“It was!” She nodded her head eagerly. “Spicy rice cakes. After an hour of slowly going insane, the pregnancy hormones took over my body, and next thing I knew, I was at his door, begging a total stranger for some of his food!”
I bent over, laughing so hard I was wheezing. Pregnancy hormones were no fucking joke. “Holy fuck. I bet the smooth fucker didn’t even bat an eyelid, did he?”
“Nope, he just welcomed me into his house, totally unfazed. He should be a military sniper because nothing shakes him!”
“Chickens do!” I declared with glee. “He hates them. Thinks they’re going to peck his toes off.”
Daisy’s eyes widened and she chuckled. “Chickens?”
I nodded.
The timer dinged, and I looked pointedly at Daisy. “Is that my cue?”
“It is. Get them out, and let them rest for ten minutes. If you eat them right away, you’ll burn yourself.”
“Do you think I can eat them all before Jeremy gets home?” I asked, pulling out the tray. The cookies were giant, definitely alpha-sized.
“There are twenty-four cookies there!” She laughed.
“Challenge accepted.” Grabbing one of the cookies, I hissed slightly at just how hot it was. It was too late now. I couldn”t back down, so I took the entire cookie, despite its steaming, and shoveled the entire thing into my mouth.
Daisy raised her eyebrows at me with a knowing look. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked, her tone making it clear that she knew full well that I wasn”t okay.
“Yeah, of course, I am,” I mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. How could something that tastes so damn good also be so painful?
Instead of answering me immediately, Daisy got up and waddled over to the fridge. Her stomach was so round that she couldn”t take straightforward steps and, instead, swayed side to side with every movement. Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a glass bottle of milk and handed it to me.
Holy fuck, she is the perfect woman.
Grabbing the cold bottle that promised relief with an eager grunt of excitement, I downed half of it in three gulps. She apparently couldn”t hold back any longer and broke out into a fit of laughter.
“Oh, my word.” She wheezed with laughter. “You were really going to burn your entire mouth off just to prove a point, weren”t you?”
“I never claimed to be an intelligent man,” I grumbled, taking my time finishing the bottle of milk. If Jeremy wanted milk for his coffee, he was going to have to go to the store and get some. I didn”t even feel bad about it. If he complained, I would say that his adorable neighbor nearly poisoned me with boiling-hot cookies.
She looked so stunning and smelled beyond description. Sweet and warm, but also tart and bright. I probably would have accepted any food she handed to me, no questions asked.
It was a miracle I had survived as long as I had. Honestly, my survival instincts were pretty shit, especially when it came to a pretty omega.
“Despite them going down like lava, those are some delicious cookies,” I complimented, taking slow sips of what little milk remained in the bottle, rationing the delicious cooling beverage.
“Next time, wait for them to cool. I assure you, the experience is a lot nicer without having to deal with molten sugar.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Does that mean there’s going to be a next time?” I asked, probably a little too excitedly.
She smiled indulgently at me. “Considering I’m constantly baking for Jeremy at the moment, I would say it’s likely. I’ll be around until he gets sick of me.” She laughed lightly, but the humor didn’t reach her eyes.
Surely she didn’t think Jeremy could possibly get sick of her?
“I highly doubt that will happen,” I told her, reaching for another cookie. “May I?”
She nodded. “Sure. Just be careful, they’re still warm.”
“Warm, I can handle,” I laughed, picking up the now significantly cooler cookie and shoving it into my mouth as Daisy moved over to her armchair and slowly lowered herself with a wince. The sheer size of her stomach must have made moving difficult.
“How far along are you?” I asked.
“Still three months to go, believe it or not!” She cradled her bump with a serene smile. “The sooner, the better. I could live without this back pain!”
She was in pain? I didn’t like that, I didn’t like that at all. It was easy to see why Jeremy had become protective of this little omega so fast.
“Gosh, I don’t know how you do it. I would suck at pregnancy!”
“I’ve not really got a choice, do I?” She laughed. “They’ve got to come out one way or another.”
I winced. I would seriously suck at being pregnant. Women were angels, in my opinion, for going through with that shit.
My phone chirped, and I saw an email from a client. I sighed.
“Bad news?” Daisy asked, cocking her head.
“Not really, just our latest client. We’re helping with an extension build, and they’re being...needy? That’s the right word. They’re calling me every twenty minutes with a new concern or complaint, and we don’t even start construction until next month!”
“Ouch.” She winced. “That sounds painful.”
“I better go deal with them. Are you okay? You should rest. Jeremy will be home from practice soon.”
“I’m fine,” she cried with exasperation. “Go, or I’ll shove you out of the apartment myself, and that means making the tired, pregnant woman get up,” she insisted.
“Playing dirty, are we?” I laughed, grabbing my keys off the counter.
“I’m not above getting down and dirty, if need be,” she said primly. It wasn’t until she took in my smug, amused grin that the meaning of her words struck, and she blushed deeply.
“Take care of yourself, flower,” I told her as I left. Flower suited her; she had a floral name after all.
On the way to my car, I couldn’t resist grabbing my phone and texting Jeremy.
Devon: I met Daisy. She’s sweet, I can see why you’re obsessed.
Hopefully he wouldn’t murder me.