Chapter 11
Lia
Relief settles into my bones the moment Walker presses the keys into my palm.
Not the frantic, desperate kind that leaves me shaking, but the deep, bone-heavy kind that makes my shoulders drop and my lungs finally expand.
Space. Real space. Countertops that stretch instead of crowd. Ovens that hum with potential instead of limitation. A kitchen that doesn’t feel like it’s going to actively fight me every time I try to work.
I can breathe again.
I think that’s also part of the problem.
Layered beneath the relief are their scents. The smell of citrus and honey, grapes and barrels, spring rain and mocha… it fills my nostrils and makes the Omega inside of me shiver. I remember that feeling, being wrapped up in scents that make whimpers and purrs want to slip up my throat.
I can’t do that again.
I’m not suited for a pack any longer.
I’m way too much of a burden.
And yet, it doesn’t stop my instincts from reacting. It doesn’t stop Walker’s presence from steadily grounding me. His sharpness and his warmth, making me want to bury my face into his chest and let him take the lead.
It doesn’t stop me from thinking about what an enjoyable time I had bowling with Eli and his daughter. How effortlessly they accepted me into their fold and how easy it would be to feel like family with them.
It doesn’t stop me from looking over at Knox, my heart skipping a beat at his bright smile that seems to be threaded with something playful.
All of them make my instincts perk up, whether I want them to or not.
And it doesn’t make things easier that it all feels so right.
I swallow and shift my weight, forcing myself to stay present. I can’t spiral. Not here. Not now. They’re all looking at me with my hand still outstretched, the keys burning an imprint into my palm.
I close my fingers around the set of keys and tuck them into my purse. “This is perfect, Walker. I really can’t thank you enough for letting me use this space.”
Walker nods once, curt and tense, like he’s got something locked away behind his eyes. “We’ll help you bring your things over. Just give us the rundown of what you need from your place.”
We.
My Omega perks at the word as a molten sort of heat runs down my spine. However, it recoils just as fast.
“I—” I start, then stop myself. I do need help. And pretending otherwise won’t make my body stop reacting to them like they belong around me. “That would be great, actually. Thanks. I may need to make another trip to the grocery store as well.”
Walker waves his hand. “I’ve got two other fully stocked kitchens on the premises. We can search through those first.”
Knox claps his hands together. “I’ll grab my truck.”
Walker glances at Knox. “You done with the trolley?”
Knox exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mostly. But I need to order a part for it. Should be in tomorrow.”
“Can I see the other kitchens, Daddy?” Amber asks, tugging on her father’s hand.
“Some other time, princess,” Eli says as he smooths the hair from his daughter’s forehead. “Right now, Lia needs some help, so we’re going to help her out, okay?”
Amber leans against Eli and peeks over at me. “Can I help too?”
My heart softens instantly. “Of course you can. I’d love the help. I’ve got a lot of stuff I’ve already baked that has to come this way. The extra set of hands would be nice.”
We move quickly after that. Decisions fall into place without effort. Pickles moves around us, watching what unfolds like the protective dog he is while Amber pets his head.
The first round of things to come to the vineyard kitchen are the pies, cinnamon rolls, pastries I’ve already baked that aren’t due to be delivered until the morning.
Knox and Eli grab my equipment and supplies from the pathetic studio apartment kitchenette and haul them in Knox’s truck, straight to the vineyard kitchen.
Amber insists on staying with me, keeping Pickles company and helping to pack up the ingredients I want to use up before I lose them.
It’s the best sort of mayhem.
“All right,” Knox says as he reaches down and scratches behind Pickles’ ear. “Anything else we need to grab?”
Amber holds up one of my spatulas from the kitchen countertop. “Uh-oh. Did we forget this?”
I smile. “No, we didn’t, since you’re holding it. Can you take that to Knox’s truck for me?”
“Of course!” Amber chirps as she rushes out of my apartment, heading for Knox’s truck.
Pickles bounds right after her, barking up a storm like a mother hen chasing after her own rambunctious little one.
Eli comes up to me. “You sure we can’t grab anything else?”
I gaze into his lovely blue eyes that are framed by those black-rimmed glasses he wears. “I’m sure. We’ve pretty much got everything.”
“You sure?” Knox asks as he comes to stand beside Eli. “What’s happening with these baked goods?”
I just shake my head. “I have deliveries I have to make today. I’m just going to grab a shower before I run those to their respective bakeries.”
“You need someone with you on those deliveries?” Knox asks. “There’s plenty of room in my truck.”
I give him a kind smile. “I’m sure. I appreciate all of your help today.”
Knox’s smile almost knocks me off my feet.
“All right,” Eli says as he picks up his hand, though it stops about halfway to my face before he lowers it. “Call us if you need anything.”
I find myself wondering what he was about to do with his hand.
“Well, we’ll take this last load to the vineyard and get it in the kitchen for you,” Knox says as he looks over at Eli. “You ready to go?”
“Ready!” Amber says as she comes running back into my place.
Pickles comes rushing back into the apartment and Eli gives him a pat on his head before closing the door behind him. Then, there’s nothing but silence. It rolls over me like a wave, the havoc settling down at the drop of a hat.
I stand there for a moment, hands braced on the counter, letting it roll over me.
Pickles nudges my leg. My brain takes its time, processing the events of the day. I feel the sweat of my pre-heat dripping down my back, and it makes my nose wrinkle. Already, their scents invade me, my lungs crying out for more of them as the shivers start up.
A hot shower will snap me back.
And maybe another round of that tea from Dr. Quinn.
I quickly strip off my clothes, fold them up to set off to the side.
Pickles hops into the mass of blankets and pillows I have on the floor, and I turn on my television for him to have something to watch.
I crank the shower water valve as far as I can to the left so that the hot water quickly steams up the small bathroom.
The sound of running water fills the space, cocooning me, and I tilt my head back to inhale the steam. To try to cleanse my palate from the swirling scent of Alphas that have hovered around me for much too long today.
It doesn’t work.
Their scents cling to me, ghosting across my senses like fingerprints I can’t scrub away. Walker’s intensity. Eli’s warmth. Knox’s bright curiosity. My Omega stretches, restless inside of me.
Instincts I haven’t felt in a very long time tug their way to the surface. Instincts I’ve spent years keeping leashed ever since my last pack rejected me.
I can’t put myself out there again.
I’m not ready.
“Come on,” I whisper to myself as the shivering mounts. “You can do this. Just hold strong. A nice hot shower, some tea, and a bit of quiet will do you some good.”
My pep talk doesn’t work.
Slick dribbles from between my legs and a whimper bubbles up the back of my throat. I lean my forehead against the tile and close my eyes, drawing in deep breaths. I feel my shoulders rising. I feel the flush of my skin creeping deeper into my body. Every time I shift, I feel how sensitive I am.
I just have to let it pass.
I have to let this burn out of me.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself. “Stay strong.”
The longer I stand under the running hot water, however, the more my mind escapes to places it shouldn’t go. I think of Eli and that kind smile of his. The way he raised his hand, and how large his hand had been. I envision his hand cupping my breast, his thumb gracing over my puckered peak.
I moan as my hand slides up toward the removable shower head.
I think of Walker and his commanding nature. How he always knows what needs to happen. That stoic face of his that seems to hide a grin that would look amazing upon his lips. I groan as my nipples pull taut.
I squeeze my thighs together, an electrical current of energy rushing through my hips. I think of Knox and those overalls of his. How they sling low on his hips, held up by only his tool belt. Those strong forearms of his, shown off in the flannel he keeps rolled up to his elbows.
“Maybe just one orgasm,” I say breathlessly as I flip through the settings of the showerhead, listening to the clicks.
Until the stream of water is thin and pressurized.
Yeah. An orgasm will set me right again.
I bet Walker’s a growler. I bet Eli sweet talks his Omegas. I bet Knox is a dirty talker. He seems like one. I ease myself down onto the tile of my shower and let my legs fall open. I tease myself with the stream of water, running it up my thighs and smelling just how strong my scent is.
Being around the three of them in that kitchen billowed their scents around me in a way that made me want to burrow into all three of them.
I want their scents everywhere.
I want a nest with them in it.
“Oh, yeah,” I whimper as the stream of water moves up my slit.
Eli’s lips are plump. I bet they’d feel warm against my skin. I close my eyes and imagine him kissing the nape of my neck. Leaving little love bites in his wake. I see Knox’s strong hands, lifting me until I’m staked right on Walker’s thick cock.
My clit throbs. My thighs quiver. The stream of water moves through my folds, tickling the tip of my oversensitive clit, and my hips begin to buck.
This won’t take long.
“Oh, Alpha,” I groan out.
I close my eyes and envision them maneuvering my body. Walker buried inside of me. Eli tilting my head back so that I may kiss those lush lips of his again. Knox suckling on my tits, his finger working my clit while Walker bucks up into me.
I want a big, fat knot. I want to feel full again. Whole again. Loved again.
I move the stream of water faster, using my fingers to part my folds just so I can feel more.
“Please, please, please, please, please,” I beg.
You beg so good for us, Walker’s voice echoes.
“Fuck,” I whimper.
It’s almost like I can hear Knox chuckling. Look at that trail of slick, just waiting to be gulped down.
“Dirty boy,” I say breathlessly.
Eli’s voice takes over next. Such a good girl for us.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I pant.
It’s like they’re there without having to be there, like they’ve crawled under my skin and imprinted themselves upon my soul. I’m lost in the dream of them having their way with me.
Slick dribbles from my entrance, coating the tile floor and swirling down the drain.
My body quivers. Goosebumps race across my skin.
My jaw drops and my body pulls taut as electrical currents zip through my veins.
I feel that coil beneath my belly button tightening, the stream of water trembling in my grasp as my hand begins to falter.
“Just a little more. Come on,” I whisper as my sweat intermingles with the water sluicing down my skin. “Right there! Yes!”
I cry out as my head falls back against the tile.
My muscles contract and release as slick drips from my swollen entrance.
My heels press into the tiled flooring. The world tilts.
Silver stars burst behind my eyelids as my muscles quake with ecstasy.
I allow myself to succumb to the darkness and pleasure searing its way through the marrow of my bones.
Before the showerhead falls from my grasp.
It takes me some time to gather myself, but after I wash up, I step out of the shower. My hair is freshly conditioned, my body freshly scrubbed. The steam has taken over the mirror completely, but I can still see the flush of my skin in the impeded reflection.
My body feels loose, no longer the tightly wound coil I was back at the vineyard. Like the tension has finally drained out of me.
Like my ARS is finally giving me a break.
Thank god.
“Tea,” I whisper to myself.
Tea, and then bakery deliveries.
I wrap a towel around my body before wrapping my hair in a different one, and I make my way out into the kitchen.
I pull out my electric kettle and fill it with water so that I can make myself one of those teas Dr. Quinn wants me to drink.
I feel my preheat ebbing back into the recesses of my body, and I heave a sigh of relief.
I hate the long build-up of my preheat.
I try not to think about my Alpha Rejection Syndrome and how much it’s changed my life. I try not to think about my former pack, all of us getting swept up in our hormones and marking one another when we had no business being together like that.
We were all young. Impulsive. I was ready for the start of my life after landing my first big freelance baking contract with one of the artisan bakeries in Stone Creek City. They were ready for a good time.
The kettle goes off, ripping me from my memories.
After brewing the tea, I set about dressing myself.
I pick a fresh outfit from my closet and slip into a pair of comfortable flats.
I grab my keys and my phone, shoving them both into my purse.
I double-check the kitchen one last time, just to make sure I don’t need anything else before I grab my cell phone charger.
But something possesses me to make a group text chat between the four of us.
Lia: I’m heading out to make my deliveries before I come back to the kitchen to prep for tomorrow’s baking. Thank you guys so much for your help today.
Their responses are almost immediate.
Eli: Remember, any one of us can ride with you if you want.
Knox: Or all of us, convoy style
Walker: We’re here if you need anything.
I stare at the screen longer than necessary, my chest tightening in that dangerous, hopeful way.
I can’t give in.
Not yet.
Lia: I’m good, really. I’ll see you back at the vineyard later.
There’s a pause before the replies come in.
Eli: Drive safe.
Knox: Don’t forget to eat.
Walker: I’ll wait for you, so I know you get here safely.
That makes me smile.
They all make me smile.
And that’s dangerous.
I grab the first stack of pastries and step out of my apartment and into the fresh spring air. But the deep breaths do nothing to calm my swirling thoughts. I need to screw my head on straight. I need to focus.
Right now, I’m an Omega with a business that needs to make deliveries. I’m not a slave to my instincts.
I can’t dwell on how comforting it is to be seen.
I can’t dwell on what my instincts do around those three Alphas.
But I’m also not sure how much longer I can pretend that my instincts don’t matter.