Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ETHAN
“ H ow did the cinnamon rolls go?” Joan asks, a knowing look in her eye.
I cock a single eyebrow, and she laughs even as she hands me a large mug.
“They were edible, at least,” I say dryly. “But that might be because of the icing you let us use.”
Her eyes glint with her amusement. “But I bet Cam had a ton of fun making them,” she says.
Camden nods. “Daddy let me sit on the island and stir them all together.”
He looks up from the muffin Joan first handed him and sees the to-go cup in her hands. His eyes light up, but he doesn’t say anything.
“That sounds like a perfect evening, then,” she says, handing him the cup.
“Thanks, Grammy,” he says. He licks the whipped cream before going back to the muffin he’s halfway devoured.
The Rustic Roast is busier than I’d expected today—even factoring in that it’s a Sunday, only a week or so until peak tourist season. Every single table is full, and only a few chairs are empty around the space. I stand next to Camden, leaning an elbow against the bar that blocks the large window that overlooks the main street. Caleb comes up behind Joan, concern furrowing his brows.
“Hey, Mom,” he says. Joan turns toward him and frowns. “Miranda mentioned one of the roasters has been giving you guys trouble?”
“The one on the right. It’s been overheating and I’m not sure why.” Joan sighs and shrugs. “I have a call in to the manufacturer since it’s supposed to be under warranty, but they’re backlogged and won’t be able to get anyone out for at least a couple more weeks.”
Caleb crosses his arms.
She continues, “Hudson said he’d take a look at it when he gets a chance. But between the restaurant and Olivia being so sick, he hasn’t managed to yet. The person I spoke to said they’d be willing to reimburse me if I found someone local to do the work since they’re so behind.”
I know what Caleb’s going to say without even looking at him. We hadn’t made any substantial plans for today, so I’m not all that worried about it. Especially since he’d drop everything to make sure my mom had help if something needed fixed at the ranch. I take a sip of the coffee and rearrange the plans I’d had for the day.
“I can take a look at it,” Caleb says. “Save you waiting for the vendor to make it out from Cheyenne.”
Joan relaxes, stress dropping away from her. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”
He kisses the top of Camden’s head and then disappears behind the counter and into the back of the cafe. The bell over the door jingles, and Joan glances over her shoulder, smoothing down the navy apron she wears. Her face lights up.
Camden looks up from his muffin and then grins, too.
“Bri!” he says, waving.
I close my eyes, trying to keep myself calm. Fuck, is there one place where she can manage to not show up while I’m there? First my barn. Then my house. Now not even Joan’s cafe is safe enough.
Before I can stop Cam, he climbs down from the barstool and rushes across the cafe. Joan chuckles under her breath beside me.
“He really likes her, doesn’t he?” she says even as she picks up the crumbs he’s left behind.
I don’t say anything, not trusting my voice. Being mean to Joan is like being cruel to a puppy.
“Well, I’m glad. I know Caleb’s been nervous they wouldn’t get on,” she continues, unbothered by my lack of response. She sets the plate on the pick-up counter, and Miranda grabs it, stashing it in the sink along the back wall. “Scent match or not, he wouldn’t feel comfortable with it unless Camden liked her.”
Caleb told Joan about the scent match? How many other people know? Did he tell me last? Frustration wars with hurt and panic.
That panic—that fear that the entire town is about to find out that they’re biological soulmates when we’ve not even talked to each other since yesterday morning’s debacle—must show on my face because Joan rushes to explain.
“He told me just this morning before Miranda and Leanne arrived,” she says. “And then swore me to secrecy. I don’t think he’s told anyone else. He mentioned wanting to wait until everything settles down a bit with the fire season.”
I force myself to relax as I give Joan a single nod. He probably doesn’t want to leave her alone while the town finds out. Kayla had enough problems when acclimating to living here—and she was a matched Omega with the backing of the Council. Despite the deep-seated pain at the thought, I can’t help the reluctant satisfaction of Caleb wanting to protect her as much as possible in this gossip-filled small town.
There’s squealing behind me, Camden’s voice mixed with others I don’t recognize. With a sigh, I push off the bar top and stalk toward my son. Brielle stands with a larger group of people taking up most of the far corner that I’d initially dismissed when we arrived. Two girls crowd her legs, their cheering growing louder than Camden’s. A red-headed woman about Brielle’s age steps up to her, hugging her despite the girls in the way.
Brielle’s smile hits me like a damn brick to the face. It’s a miracle I manage to keep walking. This smile isn’t like any of the others I’ve seen since she moved back here—small, careful, controlled. This one is big and bright and unrestrained. It reminds me of the last time she and I were happy in a room together—a decade ago now.
Jealousy seethes through me faster than I can contain it.
“Daddy!” Camden exclaims. “Daddy, can we go camping with Bri and Aunt Melissa?”
He cuts through the crowd of people, latching onto my leg. His eyes are wide, and his lips are pushed into a pout.
“Please,” he says, drawing the word out until it’s practically five syllables.
I cock an eyebrow as I look toward Melissa.
“You’re going camping?” I ask her. She hasn’t gone in years, not since Brandon.
She shrugs and pushes her glasses up her nose. “It sounded fun. Pack Bennett got a permit for a large site on the shore of Phelps Lake.”
Pack Bennett? My gaze trails to the men still seated around a table that feels much too small compared to them. All three of them are older than me and dressed in similar shorts and polos. The man closest to me, his hair and beard nearly entirely gray, holds a sleeping baby in his arms. A man with black rimmed glasses stands and closes the distance to Brielle, easing one of the girls away from her leg.
“Iris, darling, I know you’re excited. But let her sit down first.” His voice is a rich baritone that cuts through the noise of the kids. Brielle laughs and hugs the girl again. She tries to take a step toward the table but trips over the other girl. The man catches her with a hand under her elbow, and she falls into him.
“Sorry, Carter,” she says.
He smiles and helps her regain her balance.
The growl rises in my throat too fast to tamp out. Melissa’s face pales as her eyes widen. The men still at the table tense, their eyes locking on me.
“Daddy?” Camden asks, not noticing my slip up the way everyone else has. “Can we go?”
“I need to talk it over with Caleb,” I say, hedging around an outright no. My voice is still too deep, carrying the jealous growl.
Stuck with Brielle in a finite space without an escape hatch? Absolutely the fuck not . But it’s not like I can actually say that without causing a fuck load of problems.
Camden sighs but nods, pulling away from me and going back to Brielle.
“Daddy says he doesn’t know yet,” he tells her even though she heard me just fine. “If we can, can I stay in your tent?”
That growl rips through me again. Jesus fuck , I need to get that under control.
The red-headed woman frowns as she stares at me, her hand combing through the little girl’s strawberry blonde hair.
“Aunt Brielle?” the girl with strawberry blonde hair says. Her voice is calm and collected, way more so than I’d expect from a kid so young. She can’t be much older than Camden. “Can we see your house? Iris and I made stuff for it.”
Brielle nods, not looking at me. Melissa’s eyebrow is raised, though, suspicion lighting her face.
“If it’s all right with your parents,” Brielle says. “I’d love to see what you have.”
Both of the girls look to the man with the beard.
“Why don’t you all go see it? I’ll head to the rental with Dahlia so she can finish her nap,” he says, his voice smooth and low.
That seems to satisfy everyone. The group stands and clears out of the cafe with an impressive proficiency I’ve never managed with just one child—much less three. Melissa grabs Brielle’s hand as she turns to leave.
“You want some company tomorrow?” she asks.
Brielle grimaces.
Melissa sighs and squeezes her hand. “All right. Text me if you need anything.”
Brielle nods, and then she’s gone, too, the bell over the door jingling as she leaves. Joan brings Camden’s hot cocoa over to him, and he smiles as he takes it. Not a minute later, Caleb comes out from the back.
“Looks like a sensor that went bad,” he tells Joan. “I have the part number. Should be an easy swap.”
Joan nods and takes the small paper from Caleb.
“Thanks, Son,” she says. She turns to Melissa and tucks the slip of paper in her back pocket. “If I send you with a small basket, can you drop it off with Brielle?”
Melissa nods. “Of course, Joan.”
“Gift basket?” Caleb asks.
Joan shrugs. “Just thought it might help make tomorrow a bit better.”
I shove my curiosity away. Not that it matters because Caleb lets his run the show.
“What’s tomorrow?” he asks, crossing his arms, a frown pulling his lips down.
“Oh, it’s her anniversary,” Melissa says.
That jealousy surges in me again. This time, I force it far enough down I can’t feel it at all.