Chapter 12 #2
"So what's the plan?" Micah asked, stealing another pepper slice. "Are we actually courting her, or was that just Oliver improvising to get Trinity off his back?"
Oliver grimaced at the reminder. "Bit of both, honestly. Trinity needed a clear rejection, and saying we were already courting someone was the most effective way to shut her down. But..."
"But you weren't entirely lying," I finished for him. "Because we are interested."
"I am," Garrett said quietly. "I don't know about the rest of you."
"I'm intrigued," I admitted. "Anyone who can stand their ground against an Alpha trying to buy them groceries has my respect. Plus, she's clearly talented—that garden you've been raving about is real, and if her baking is half as good as you claim, she's got skills."
"It's that good," Garrett confirmed. "Better, even."
Micah was quiet, his green eyes calculating in that way that meant he was processing multiple angles.
"I haven't met her yet," he said finally.
"But based on what you've both said, and the scene at the market.
.. she sounds like someone who'd fit. Someone who values independence, who's built something on her own, who doesn't need us but might choose us anyway. "
"If she chooses us at all," Oliver added. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Right now, we're just neighbors. Neighbors who are interested in getting to know her better."
"Neighbors who apparently can't stop running into her in town," Micah said with his usual smirk returning.
"I ran into her once," I protested. "Literally. It was an accident."
"Sure it was." He dodged my swat easily, his runner's reflexes making him quick despite his leaner build. "And I'm sure Garrett's visit tomorrow is purely work related."
"It is," Garrett insisted, but his ears were red. "She's going to help me evaluate the apple trees. Professional consultation."
"Right. Professional." Micah grinned. "Just like Levi's sourdough conversation was purely educational."
"It was educational. I learned a lot." I pointed my knife at him. "And you're going to benefit from that knowledge when I actually manage to make edible bread."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Micah grabbed his water bottle from the counter. "I'm going for a run before dinner. Someone has to maintain peak physical condition in this pack."
"In the rain?" Oliver asked, a frown on his face.
"Best time for it. Fewer people, better focus." Micah headed for the stairs, probably to change into his running gear. "Don't wait on me for dinner."
After he disappeared upstairs, Garrett shook his head. "He acts like he doesn't care about anything, but he's already analyzing her like she's a puzzle to solve."
"That's just how Micah works," Oliver said. "He'll run a dozen scenarios in his head, calculate risks and benefits, and then make a decision. Give him time."
"We should all take time," I said, starting to heat oil in the wok. "Daphne needs space to figure out what she wants. We need space to figure out if this is actually viable or just wishful thinking."
"It's not wishful thinking," Garrett said quietly. "At least not for me. There's something about her, something that just... fits. I felt it the first time I saw her in her garden."
Oliver studied him for a long moment. "You're serious about this."
"I am." Garrett met his eyes steadily. "But I know we move as a pack. If the rest of you aren't interested, I'll respect that. I won't pursue her alone."
That was the thing about our pack—we'd formed it by choice, bound together by friendship and mutual respect rather than blood or obligation.
When we'd decided to try this experiment, to see if four Alphas could build a life together, we'd agreed on certain rules.
One of them was that major decisions—like bringing someone new into the pack—required unanimous agreement.
"I'm interested," I said again. "But cautiously. She's got walls for a reason, and I'm not interested in pushing past them just because we want something."
"Agreed," Oliver said. "We get to know her as a person first, let her get to know us. If something develops naturally, great. If not, we at least gain a good neighbor."
"And if she wants nothing to do with us?" I asked, titling my head to the side in curiosity at what his answer would be. He was the most interested right now.
"Then we respect that," Garrett said immediately. "Even if it kills me."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice made me smile. Garrett had always been the steadiest of us, the most patient. But when he cared about something—or someone—he cared completely.
I tossed vegetables into the hot wok, the sizzle filling the kitchen. "Tomorrow should be interesting."
"It will be," Garrett agreed, moving to help by starting the rice. "I'm trying not to overthink it."
"You're definitely overthinking it," Oliver said with rare amusement. "You've been talking about those apple trees since you saw her on Wednesday. ."
"They're historically significant! My grandfather planted them a long time ago. ."
"You're historically significant," I teased, a smirk on my lips. "And also obviously nervous."
Garrett shot me a look. "I'm not nervous."
"You reorganized your tool bag twice this morning," Oliver pointed out. "And you've been checking the weather forecast obsessively."
"I want to make sure the conditions are right for pruning." He defended himself, though I could see through our resident softy.
"Uh-huh." I grinned. "And it has nothing to do with wanting to impress a certain Omega who knows more about plants than anyone you've ever met."
Garrett's silence was telling. We worked together in a comfortable rhythm—me cooking, Garrett handling the rice, Oliver setting the table.
This was familiar, the domestic routine we'd fallen into over the past few weeks. Four Alphas living together doesn’t always work, compared to traditional pack dynamics.
Most Alphas were too dominant, too territorial to share space comfortably.
But we'd never been traditional in the normal sense.
We'd been friends first, pack second. The hierarchy had established itself naturally—Oliver as head Alpha not because he demanded it but because we all trusted his judgment.
The rest of us balanced each other out: Garrett's steadiness, my practicality, Micah's sharp strategic mind.
Adding an Omega to that dynamic would change everything. But maybe change was what we needed.
"Question," I said as I added sauce to the stir-fry. "If this does develop into something, are we all prepared for what that means? Actually courting someone together? I know Garrett grew up in a pack like this…”
"I've thought about this since I was young. My parents were two Alphas, a beta and an omega…so it isn’t too different from what we are doing.," Oliver admitted. "It's not traditional, four Alphas with one Omega. But nothing about our pack has been traditional."
"It would require even more communication than we already do," Garrett added, his mind going a mile a minute from the look I could see on his face. "Making sure everyone's needs are met, that no one feels left out or overwhelmed."
"And it would require finding someone who actually wants that," I pointed out, shifting in my spot as I thought of the Omega who caught all our attention so far. "Daphne barely wants to talk to one Alpha, let alone four."
"Hence the going slow," Oliver reiterated the easy statement. "The getting to know each other first. We will just go back and forth if we keep talking about this too.”
The back door opened again, cutting off anything else Oliver was going to say as Micah reappeared in running clothes—shorts despite the cold rain, a moisture-wicking shirt that showed off his lean muscle. "I'll be back in an hour," he announced, earbuds already in place.
"You're insane," I called after him with a light laughter in my voice. He just grinned and disappeared into the rain, leaving the three of us shaking our heads.
"He's going to catch pneumonia," Garrett muttered.
"He's going to think," Oliver corrected but knew the other Alpha was just on edge with this new development and being the last one to meet Daphne. "That's what the running is for. He needs to process."
We all had our ways of processing. Oliver worked with his hands, fixing things around the property. Garrett dove into research and planning. I cooked, finding comfort in the familiar rhythms of preparing food. And Micah ran, pushing his body until his mind cleared enough to see solutions.
Dinner was ready by the time Micah returned, soaked and energized. We ate together at the half-finished table, rain still drumming against the windows, talking about renovation timelines and supply orders and the dozen other mundane details of building a life.
But underneath it all, I could feel the current of something new. The awareness that we were on the edge of a change, standing at a threshold we couldn't quite see past.
Daphne.
One woman, living alone not that far away, who'd somehow captured all our attention without even trying.
Who represented possibility and complication in equal measure.
The rain continued through the night, steady and soaking.
And in the morning, there would be work to do, progress to make on the house and land we were claiming as ours.