Chapter 3 #2
Actually smiled. It was small and slightly disbelieving, but it was genuine.
"Hi," she said back. "Welcome to Cedar Falls."
She stepped aside, gesturing us in.
And that was it. The invitation. The opening.
We were being let in.
I grabbed George from the passenger seat (I'd actually brought the plant, like a complete dork), and the three of us moved toward the porch. Dex brought up the rear, carrying the more practical overnight bags, moving with that controlled grace that meant he was on high alert.
As we climbed the porch steps, Michelle's scent got stronger. My alpha wanted to purr, to press close, to mark her as ours. But I kept my distance, being respectful.
Being respectful was very hard.
Up close, I could see the dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well. None of us had, the pack bond pulling even at a distance was uncomfortable, like an itch we couldn't scratch.
"Thank you for having us," Ro said, his voice measured and polite. "We appreciate you opening your home."
"Thank my mom," Michelle said. "This is her house. I'm just visiting."
As if on cue, a woman appeared behind Michelle, late fifties, warm smile, salt-and-pepper hair, and eyes that were far too knowing.
"You must be Lucas, Ro, and Dex," she said. "I'm Janet, Michelle's mom. Welcome! Come in, come in. Bill's making lunch, and the kids are dying to meet you."
"Mom," Michelle said, her tone suggesting this was an ongoing battle.
"What? They are. Josh has been refreshing your subscriber count for two days."
I grinned despite my nerves. "He's a fan?"
"He's a fanboy," Michelle corrected, stepping back to let us enter. "Fair warning, he's going to ask you a million questions. Maya's going to be worse. Bill's going to try to feed you constantly. And Mom's going to meddle."
"I prefer 'gently facilitate,'" Janet said cheerfully.
We stepped inside, and the house was just as warm and welcoming as it had looked from outside.
Hardwood floors, comfortable furniture, Christmas decorations everywhere, but not in a matchy-matchy way.
More like accumulated family memories. Handmade ornaments, photos, mismatched stockings hung on the mantle.
It smelled like home. Like food cooking and wood smoke and underneath it all, Michelle's peppermint scent that had permeated every surface.
My alpha sighed with contentment.
A man appeared from what I assumed was the kitchen, wiping his hands on an apron that said "Grill Sergeant." He was tall, bearded, with kind eyes and the build of someone who'd once been very active but had settled into comfortable dad-energy.
"Bill Williams," he introduced himself, offering a hand. "Michelle's stepfather. You boys must be starving after that drive. Lunch in twenty minutes."
"That's really not necessary—" Ro started.
"Nonsense. I made extra." Bill's smile was genuine. "Michelle told us you'd be arriving around now, so I planned accordingly."
Before I could respond, footsteps thundered on the stairs, and two teenagers appeared, a girl around sixteen with dark hair and a knowing smirk, and a boy around fourteen who looked like he might spontaneously combust from excitement.
"Oh my god," the boy breathed. "You're really here. In my house. CozyLuke is in my house."
"Josh, breathe," the girl said, but she was grinning. "I'm Maya, Michelle's sister. This is Josh. He's trying to be cool and failing."
"I'm not trying to be cool, I'm freaking out!" Josh turned to me. "Your stream last week where you built the gingerbread village? The architectural design was insane. How did you get the icing to hold the structure at that angle?"
Despite everything, the nerves, the high stakes, the fact that my omega was watching me with guarded eyes, I felt myself relax slightly.
This was familiar territory. Talking about content, about building techniques, about streaming. This I could do.
"Trade secret," I said, grinning. "But if you want, I can show you while we're here. I brought my setup."
Josh's eyes went huge. "Really?"
"Lucas," Michelle said, her voice slightly strained. "We should probably talk before you commit to streaming from my mother's house."
"Oh, please stream from here," Janet said immediately. "The house needs some excitement."
"Mom."
"What? It's a beautiful house. Show it off."
I watched the family dynamic play out, Michelle trying to maintain control, her mom gently bulldozing, Bill being supportive but amused, the kids clearly team chaos. It was warm and loving and loud, and I could see why Michelle had fled here when she needed space.
This was her safe place. Her nest, in a way.
And she was letting us into it.
"How about," Dex said diplomatically, "we get settled, have lunch, and then we can talk about schedules and plans?"
"That's a wonderful idea," Janet said. She turned to Michelle. "Mija, why don't you show them to their rooms while I help Bill finish lunch?"
Michelle looked like she wanted to argue but nodded. "Fine. Come on."
She led us upstairs, and I tried not to notice how her hand trailed along the bannister like she'd done it a thousand times, or how family photos lined the walls showing her at different ages, or how the house seemed to exude peace and safety.
"Okay," Michelle said when we reached the second floor.
"Guest rooms. Mom put Lucas in the blue room, Ro in the green room, Dex in the study.
" She pointed to different doors. "Bathroom's there.
My room is at the end of the hall if you need anything.
Though please don't need anything between midnight and six AM because I'm not a morning person. "
She was nervous. Using information-dumping as a shield.
"Michelle," Ro said gently. "This is good. Us being here. Thank you for letting us come."
She looked at him, really looked at him, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased.
"You sent really good gifts," she said quietly. "Thoughtful ones. Like you'd been paying attention."
"I have been," Ro admitted. "For months."
"Me too," I added. "The tea thing, you mentioned it once, on our first call. You said your favorite thing about working from home was making peppermint tea exactly how you liked it without office judgment."
Michelle's eyes widened slightly. "You remembered that?"
"I remember everything about you."
The words came out more intense than I'd intended. Michelle's breath caught, and I could see her fighting with herself, wanting to move closer, wanting to run, wanting to maintain her professional armor.
"Right," she said finally. "Well. Get settled. Lunch soon. And then we'll... talk. About all of this."
She fled down the hall to her room, closing the door firmly.
The three of us stood in the hallway, looking at each other.
"She's terrified," Ro observed.
"She invited us anyway," Dex countered.
"Because she's brave," I said. "She's absolutely terrified, and she invited us anyway."
"So we prove she made the right choice," Dex said firmly. "We prove we're worth the risk."
We split up to claim our rooms. Mine was cheerful and blue, with a comfortable-looking bed and a window overlooking the backyard. I could see the massive Douglas fir, the barn, the workshop. It was perfect for establishing shots if Michelle agreed to let me stream from here.
Not that streaming was the priority. Michelle was the priority.
But still. The content possibilities were excellent.
I unpacked quickly. I'd brought way too much stuff because I'd panic-packed at five AM. Then I went to find my pack.
Ro was in his green room doing the same, his professional camera already set up on the dresser. Dex was in the study, which had been converted into a guest room with a daybed, but still had bookshelves and a desk.
"This house has good bones," Dex observed. "Security's decent. Exits are clear. Neighborhood seems safe."
"Not everything's a security assessment," Ro said, but he was smiling.
"Everything's a security assessment when our omega is involved."
Our omega.
The words made something in my chest warm.
"Do you think she'll actually hear us out?" I asked. "Or is she going to spend the whole time trying to keep us at professional distance?"
"She'll hear us out," Ro said confidently. "She wouldn't have invited us otherwise."
"She's scared of losing her business," Dex added. "That's valid. We need to show her we won't let that happen."
"How do we do that?"
"By being patient. By proving pack bonds can be professional assets. By letting her set the pace." Dex looked at me pointedly. "Can you do that? Let her set the pace?"
"I'll try," I said honestly. "But she's my omega. Our omega. Every instinct says claim, protect, keep. It's hard to override that."
"I know," Ro said quietly. "But we have to. She needs us to be more than just our instincts."
A knock on the study door interrupted us. Maya poked her head in.
"Lunch is ready. Mom says to come down before Bill eats all the tortillas himself." She grinned. "Also, Michelle's stress-cooking. She made three desserts. You're going to want to pace yourselves."
"Michelle stress-cooks?" I asked.
"When she's anxious, she bakes. Usually in the middle of the night." Maya's expression softened. "She's been stress-baking since she got here three days ago. We have enough cookies to supply the whole town."
The image of Michelle in the kitchen at three AM, working through her anxiety by creating something, made my chest ache.
We followed Maya downstairs to find the dining room table absolutely loaded with food.
Bill had made what looked like his entire Mexican repertoire, enchiladas, rice, beans, fresh tortillas, several salsas.
And yes, there were three desserts on the sideboard.
Cookies, brownies, and what looked like a homemade pie. I couldn’t wait to try all of them.
Michelle was already seated, looking slightly mortified.
"I stress-bake," she said defensively. "Mom told you, didn't she?"