Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Leif
The boat bumps against the dock, and Quinn lets go of the railing before the line’s even tied. Sprinkles strains forward, the leash pulling taut through my fingers, his massive black paws skidding on wet planks.
“Hold up, buddy.” I tighten my grip. “Wait for Kyle.”
Quinn bounces on her toes, one small hand fisted in the Newfoundland’s fur. “Sprinkles spotted a squirrel.”
“Sprinkles always spots a squirrel.” I reach past her to grab the backpack she left on the bench, slinging it over one shoulder. “Same squirrels, different Tuesday.”
As she giggles, the sound carries over the water. “Mr. Leif, I played too hard at recess today. Will you carry me up the hill?”
“How about I carry you partway, then we can take breaks the rest of the way up?”
Her little face scrunches before she raises her arms. I scoop her up, settling her on my hip, and pick my way down the gangplank. She clings, her cheek nestled against the collar of my jacket.
As I wait for Sprinkles to join us, I spot Emily and Jared, still in their work clothes, boots caked with the kind of mud that only comes from a half-finished construction site in March.
They move with the same unhurried grace, drawing my attention without trying. Emily’s long stride eats up the dock, Jared keeping pace behind her left shoulder.
My first instinct is to let them pass with only a casual greeting. Saturday dinner had been a quiet affair without Grady there, his absence ringing through the small cottage. Emily is clearly upset by his leaving, and Jared has been in protective mode.
But Quinn spots them, and her hand shoots up before I can caution her to leave them be, and her whole arm waves. “Miss Emily! Jared!”
Emily raises her head, and our eyes meet across thirty feet of salt-crusted planks. The last of the evening light glimmers in her gray irises, and a flutter takes flight behind my ribs, the bond reaching for my Alpha despite all my cautions to take things slow and win back her trust.
I shift Quinn higher and keep walking toward them. Sprinkles lunges forward, nose working the air, and I let him have enough leash to greet Jared, who crouches, both hands sinking into the dog’s thick ruff.
“Hey,” I say, stopping in front of Emily.
“Hey.”
Jared straightens, Sprinkles glued to his leg in the hope of more belly rubs.
“Mr. Leif is going to carry me all the way up the hill,” Quinn announces, her arms tightening around my neck.
“Hey, now,” I protest. “I said I’d carry you partway, and we’d take the rest at a slow pace.”
She throws her head back with a whine. “But I’m tired.”
Jared checks the time. “How about we walk up with you, so when Mr. Leif gets tired, one of us can take over?”
Quinn bounces with excitement. “Yes, yes, yes!”
“Oh, no, we can’t have you do that,” I counter. “The water taxi will leave without you.”
Emily lifts a shoulder. “Then we’ll keep ourselves entertained until the next one. It’s leftover night, so there’s no rush to return home.”
My pulse skips, and my mouth moves before I can think better of it. “If you don’t have plans for dinner, let me cook for you. You haven’t seen the new cabin yet.”
Emily’s lips quirk. “I built your cabin.”
Jared snorts out a laugh as heat creeps into my cheeks.
“Okay, well, you haven’t seen it with furniture.”
Emily turns to Jared, and a silent communication passes between the two Alphas.
She turns back to me. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
“Great.” I adjust Quinn. “Let’s go, then.”
We fall into step together up the dock path while Sprinkles, released from his leash, bounds ahead, doubling back every few yards to check that we’re following. The gravel crunches under our boots, and Quinn’s chatter fills the silence.
“There was a squirrel at the dog park,” Quinn announces to no one in particular.
“A really fast one. Sprinkles almost got him, but then the squirrel ran up a tree, and Sprinkles barked and barked, and this lady with a poodle got mad, but I told her Sprinkles is being a dog, and dogs bark, and she said I was being fresh, but I don’t know what that means. ”
Emily chuckles. “Some people don’t appreciate the truth when it comes from a kid.”
“That’s silly,” Quinn declares, and pats my shoulders. “Right, Mr. Leif?”
“Very silly,” I agree, “though if we aren’t at the dog park, Sprinkles needs to stay at your side.”
“Well, duh.” I don’t see it, but I’d bet money she rolls her eyes. “He’s my service dog. He can tell when it’s work time.”
By the time the path tilts upward past the second hiking trail offshoot, my lungs are struggling, and my thighs burn. “Hey, princess, it’s time for you to walk on your own.”
“No!” Quinn turns into dead weight in my arms. “You said you’d carry me.”
“I’m not as strong as your Uncle Blake,” I wheeze, my steps slowing.
“Trade you,” Jared says, materializing at my side.
“I can—” I struggle to drag in another breath. “I can do it.”
He gives me an amused smirk. “You’ve still got half the hill left.”
Before I can protest further, he lifts Quinn from my arms and tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
She squeals in delight, and Sprinkles comes racing back to bark circles around them.
Jared bounces her. “Hang in there, princess. Those feet are not touching ground again until you get home. Them’s the rules.”
“You just made that up,” Quinn says.
“Correct.” He carries her ahead, her giggles trailing behind, and the path curves, leaving Emily alone beside me.
The trees close in where the path bends, and I let the quiet stretch another few steps before I give up on waiting for it to feel natural.
“Have you heard from Grady since he left?” I ask.
“He’s been sending texts.” She sighs. “Short ones that are getting less and less frequent.”
“Is he doing all right?”
“Seems like it.” She pauses. “His family is keeping him busy after not being at home for a while.”
“He’ll be back in no time.”
She studies me for a moment. “You should reach out. He misses you, too.”
Guilt shoots through me. Emily and Jared hadn’t been the only fallout when things went down with Carson, and I’ve missed the easy friendship I had with Grady, too. Every time I think about reaching out, I find another reason not to.
The easiest reentry would be the Saturday Market, which we bonded over originally. won’t open again for another three months.
Do I really want to leave it that long?
No, and it’s become clear I need to be the one to mend the bridges I broke.
As I open my mouth to tell Emily I’ll reach out to the Beta, my boot catches on a root where the gravel drops to packed dirt, and I pitch to the left.
Panicked, I grab for the nearest thing, which is Emily, my hand closing around her forearm as she turns into me, and then somehow her jacket is bunched in my fist, and her free hand has found my shoulder, and we’ve come to a full stop, facing each other with no space between us.
Neither of us moves.
This close, her jacket zipper bites cold within my grasp, where I’m still holding on.
Her lips are level with my jaw, and the months of careful distance have vanished.
My heartbeat fills my ears, which is why it takes me a moment to register the second one, distinct and rapid, where her breasts flatten against my chest.
“I got you,” she says, very quietly.
“Yeah, you do.” My focus drops to her lips, and the scent of my pheromones perfume the air.
Her nostrils flare, and a purr rises between us, but then Sprinkles’s bark breaks the spell.
Her arms drop away, and she steps back, though the space between us is smaller than it was before as we start walking again, her sleeve brushing mine with every other step.
We catch up to Jared and Quinn, who had stopped to wait for Sprinkles to mark some territory before we move on together.
Around the next turn in the path, the Homestead comes into view. Holden stands on the porch, one hand on the railing, a kitchen timer ticking on the small table beside him.
“There she is,” he says, and Quinn wriggles until Jared sets her down.
She bolts for the steps, Sprinkles thundering after her, and Holden catches her at the top of the stairs, tucking her into his side.
Only then does he notice the three of us still standing on the path, and he grins. “Are you all staying for dinner?”
He extends the invitation as a foregone conclusion, because no one ever turns down Holden’s cooking. But if we join the Wright Pack, it will be noisy, and Emily and Jared will be focused on everyone else, and I’m selfish enough to want their attention for myself.
I shake my head before I can second-guess it. “I’m making dinner back at my place. Need to break in my new kitchen.”
Holden lifts a brow, but he doesn’t push as he reaches down to scratch Sprinkles behind the ears, his fingers disappearing into the dog’s thick fur. “Okay. Let us know if you end up staying late and need somewhere to crash.”
Surprised by the easy acceptance, I return Quinn’s hug when she races down the steps to take her backpack from me. Then Holden grabs his kitchen timer and ushers Quinn inside, Sprinkles padding after them, his nails clicking on the hardwood. The door closes behind them.
Embarrassed by my impulse to stake a claim on Emily and Jared, I motion for them to follow me around the porch to the path behind it that leads to the smaller cabins.
They fall into step behind me, their footsteps matched to mine and muffled by the hay over the path.
It’s a short walk, without enough time for the silence to grow awkward. Jared hums under his breath, a tune I don’t recognize, and Emily walks with her hands in her jacket pockets.
I pull my keys out and unlock the door when we reach it. I step inside first, giving them room to follow, and the warmth of the cabin wraps around us.
The lamp on the side table that I left on so I wouldn’t return to a dark house warms the room, and I take off my shoes at the rack near the door.
The bookcase along the far wall is filled now, spines stacked in no particular order except for height, and the sight of it still gives me a quiet satisfaction every time I walk in.
Emily and Jared take off their muddy boots and meander through the space, taking it all in, as small as it is.
“The furniture really turns this place into a real home,” Jared says, settling his lanky frame on the couch in front of the TV. “I won’t lie. I’m a little jealous that as soon as you drop Quinn off, you only have a two-minute walk home.”
Emily flicks his shoulder. “Are you saying the cottage is too far away?”
He catches her hand and brings it to his lips. “If we could pick it up and put it down on the island, I wouldn’t say no, and neither would you.”
She hums noncommittally. “It’s hard to make a beer run on the island.”
“That is a downside.” He leans his head back onto the cushions. “A beer sounds amazing right now.”
Seeing them interacting so casually in my space fills me with a deep sense of contentment, and my mind starts working on how to make this happen more often.
But first, I can prove I’m capable of taking care of these two Alphas.
“You’re in luck. I picked up a new micro beer to try the last time I ordered groceries.” I turn toward the kitchen and open the fridge, only to come up short as my mind blanks.
The plan made perfect sense on the dock. Pasta, maybe. Something with the tomatoes I picked up yesterday. But the only things in my fridge are beer and eggs.
I puff out a breath, drag a hand through my hair, and turn back to face them.
“I didn’t think this through.” The admission costs me more than it should. “We can head back to the Homestead—”
“No.” Emily cuts me off, already moving past me into the kitchen.
She pulls open cabinet doors to scan the contents of the shelves, her fingers tapping the wood as she inventories.
“You’ve got enough here,” she says, peering back at Jared. “We’ll figure it out.”
Jared hums in agreement and drags himself off the couch. He joins us in the kitchen and reaches past me for the loaf of bread on the counter behind me. His arm brushes my shoulder, and I step aside on instinct, then stop myself and step back in, crowding into the space instead of yielding it.
When Emily turns and extends the knife, I take it. Her fingers linger on mine for half a heartbeat before she moves away.
“Dice,” she says, and points to the onion now sitting on the cutting board.
I obey, the knife finding a rhythm on the board as Emily pulls a pot from the lower cabinet and fills it at the sink. Jared rummages through the refrigerator, emerging with butter, and finds the garlic and onion powder in my small spice rack.
The kitchen is too small for three people, shoulders knocking and hands reaching for the same things, overlapping without apology.
At one point, Emily leans past me to grab something from the far end of the counter, her hand settling on my lower back to steady herself. It lingers there, her palm warm through the thin cotton of my shirt, and I don’t move away or react beyond the slight catch in my breath that I keep to myself.
And for the first time in a long while, I can imagine this working.