Chapter 34 #2
A few minutes later, Willa’s holding a plate with a giant biscuit smothered in gravy, with the addition of pickled jalapenos and what looks like mushrooms. Hattie Belle slides the plate to her and an oversized bottle of Tabasco.
Willa proceeds to douse the whole thing in Tabasco sauce until it’s swimming in red.
“Jesus, Wills,” I say, watching her. “Are you trying to burn your taste buds off?”
“This is how you’re supposed to eat it,” she says matter-of-factly.
I lead her out to the front porch, where a few rocking chairs sit in the morning sun. Even with the cold air, the warmth feels good.
She settles into one, balancing the plate on her lap, and cuts a generous bite. She takes it, groans with a deep, shameless sound of pleasure, then glances up at me sheepishly before scooping another forkful and offering it to me.
“Here.” She holds it up to my mouth. “Try it.”
I lean forward and let her feed me, and the second the flavors hit my tongue, I can’t stop the moan that escapes. I’m definitely no stranger to Hattie Belle’s famous biscuits, but whatever magic is in a James Special is next-level.
The biscuit is fluffy and buttery, the tangy jalapenos melt perfectly with the mushrooms, the gravy is rich and savory, and the Tabasco adds just enough heat to make everything sing.
“Holy shit,” I mumble around the bite. “That’s good.”
“Told you.” She’s grinning at me, looking proud and happy, and I want to kiss the gravy right off her lips.
This is Willa in her element. Not the professional vet trying to prove herself. Not the Omega facing down her abuser. Just… Willa. Happy and relaxed and home.
And suddenly, I don’t want to wait anymore.
The need that’s been building since the hotel—since I watched her sleep surrounded by pack, since I held her while she cried, since the day I let her go six years ago and have regretted every moment since—surges forward like a dam breaking.
I want to bond with her. Want to make her mine—ours—in every way possible. Want the whole world to know she’s claimed and protected and cherished. Want my bite on her neck, permanent and undeniable proof that she chose us and we chose her right back.
I want to wake up every day with her in my arms for the rest of my life. Want to watch her drink coffee in the morning light. Want to fight with her about silly things and make up in all the best ways. Want to build a life with her—messy and complicated and absolutely perfect.
Is this the right time to talk about this? Probably not. I haven’t even talked to the pack, though I know they feel the same. I can sense it through our bond—Beau’s fierce possession, Charlie’s steady devotion. We’re all circling the same truth, waiting for the right moment.
But I just can’t live another minute in a world where she doesn’t know how much I want her. How much I’ve always wanted her, even when I was too young and stupid to fight for it.
The words are clawing up my throat before I can stop them.
“I want to bond with you.”
It comes out rougher than I meant, almost desperate, and I can’t look at her. Can’t watch her face while I spill my guts like some lovesick teenager. My hands are shaking. When did my hands start shaking?
“Jake—” she starts, but I can’t stop now. If I stop, I’ll lose my nerve.
“I want—” My voice cracks. Jesus. “I want my bite on your neck. Want everyone in this town to know you’re my Omega.
I want to wake up next to you every single morning for the rest of my life and…
” I force myself to look at her. “And I know I don’t deserve you.
I know I left you six years ago because I chose the circuit over you.
I know I broke your heart, and I can never take that back, but—”
“Jake—”
“Please.” The word comes out broken. “Please just let me say this because if I don’t say it now, I’m gonna chicken out and I can’t— I can’t keep hiding the fact that I have wanted this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
She’s staring at me with wide eyes, her scent a mess I can’t untangle. Shock. Confusion. Pleasure. Arousal.
“I love you.” The confession rips out of me.
“I’ve loved you since that summer. Since you showed up at the rodeo in cutoff shorts, boots, and a T-shirt that was too big for you, and laughed at all my terrible jokes.
And when I left—when I chose the contract over you—it’s the biggest regret of my life. ”
“Jake—”
“I was stupid, I thought I had time. Thought I could have the career and come back for you later. But then years went by, and I convinced myself you’d moved on, found someone better, and I didn’t deserve to show up and mess up your life again.
” I swallow hard. “But then you came back, and it’s like…
” I gesture helplessly. “It’s like every defense I built just crumbled.
And now I’m sitting here asking you—begging you—to give me another chance.
To let me prove I can be what you need. That I can take care of you, protect you, love you the way you deserve. ”
My throat is tight, my eyes are burning, and I can’t believe I’m about to cry in front of her, but I can’t stop it.
“Will you have me?” The question comes out as barely a whisper.
“All of me? Can you forgive me for leaving? Can you trust me to— To not leave again? Because I won’t.
I swear to God, Willa, wherever you go, that’s where I’ll be.
I don’t care about the circuit, don’t care about championships. I just want you.”
I don’t get to finish because she’s moving.
Standing up from her rocking chair, crossing the space between us, and then she’s in my lap—her legs bracketing my thighs, her hands cupping my face, her scent wrapping around me like a blanket.
She leans into my neck and breathes deep, her nose pressed against my scent gland, and I feel the exact moment she relaxes into me.
“You’ve always smelled like coming home,” she whispers against my skin.
My hands find her waist automatically, holding her close, terrified she might disappear if I let go.
“Is that a yes?” I manage to ask, and my voice sounds wrecked.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, that beautiful smile I’ve been dreaming about for six years, turning my world upside down.
“You idiot,” she says, but there’s so much affection in it my chest hurts. “Of course it’s a yes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She laughs, a little watery, a little disbelieving. “I forgive you. I forgave you the second you showed up at that well and pulled me out. Maybe even before that.”
“Wills—”
“I want you too. All of you. I want the pack, I want whatever life we build together, I want to wake up knowing I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” Her voice catches. “I want to stop being scared. I want to be brave enough to choose this. To choose you.”
I kiss her before she can say anything else. Pour every ounce of love and relief and desperate gratitude into it. She melts into me with a sound that’s half-laugh, half-sob, and tastes like Tabasco and her.
When we finally break apart, we’re both crying and laughing, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.
“I love you,” I say again, because I can’t say it enough. “God, Willa, I love you so much.”
“Love you too, Dillon.” Her fingers thread through my hair, gentle and grounding. She grins through her tears. “Even if you do have terrible timing.”
All my heart cares about is that she’s mine.
And I’m never letting her go again.