Chapter 26 Eli #2
She pulls away from me, and I watch as she hunkers down next to my daughter.
“I love your pajamas,” Lia says.
My daughter beams with pride. “Thanks. I changed twice. The first set of pajamas I put on weren’t sparkly enough, and celebrations need sparkles.”
Lia’s smile is bright. “You’re right about that.” Then she leans over and studies Knox’s pajamas. “You weren’t joking about those Christmas pajamas, huh?”
“Oh, watch this,” Knox says with a grin. He presses something on the chest of his shirt.
And his pajamas light up like a Christmas tree.
“Whoa!” Amber says as she points. “Daddy! Look! Can I get pajamas like that!?”
Walker chuckles from the kitchen as the smell of macaroni and cheese fills the air. I hear him chopping away at vegetables while Pickles lets out a playful bark, his tail swishing against Knox’s lap.
“That’s amazing,” Lia says in between her giggles. “Walker, you need any help in there?”
“You’re helping by existing,” Walker says. “Sit and relax. Won’t take me fifteen more minutes to pull this all together.”
“Well, in that case, Knox?” I ask as I look over at him.
“Yep?” he grunts out, shoving himself off the couch.
I motion to the kitchen. “Let’s get the table set. I’ll dance around Walker to get everything, and I’ll hand it off so you can get it on the table.”
Knox rubs his hands together, his pajamas twinkling. “Perfect. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving.”
“What did you bring for a sweet treat, Lia?” Amber asks as she cuddles up next to her.
To the Omega that’s officially stolen my heart.
“I brought lemon poppyseed pound cake slices,” Lia says. “How’s that sound?”
“Mmm,” my daughter hums as I venture into the kitchen, “that’ll go good with the ice cream we have in the freezer.”
“She’s not wrong there.” I open the cabinet where I keep the plates and bowls.
“Lia,” Walker says, stirring what looks like some sort of sauce in a small pan, “come taste this real quick. I’ve tasted it so much that I’m not sure what’s missing.”
Lia’s at his side in a moment, and I swear the air in the kitchen shifts.
I hand the dishes off to Knox before opening the silverware drawer, but I can’t help the way my gaze gravitates to Lia when her lips wrap around the sauce spoon.
Heat draws up my thighs, and I have to look away.
But the hum she lets out tells me everything I need to know.
It’s a sound that shoots straight to my groin.
“Walker,” she says, her voice a sort of half-moan, like she’s trying to torture me, “that’s incredible. I don’t think it needs anything.”
“You sure?” He places the spoon in the sink. “Eli, can I get another spoon?”
“Sure thing.” I hand one to him.
He dips up the sauce and gives it another taste. “You don’t think it’s a little too heavy on the peppercorn?”
“Is that what that is?” Lia asks. “It’s got a nice spice to it. Are we putting that over the ‘turf’ part of this surf ’n turf.”
“We are,” Walker says as he tosses that spoon into the sink as well. “If you think it’s done, then it’s done.”
Lia smiles as she looks down at the sauce. “It’s definitely done. You did a great job with it.”
Walker doesn’t smile or preen at her words. He doesn’t pick her up and swing her around. I watch him while he watches her, somehow arrested by a moment that isn’t even mine to share.
I watch him lift his hand and hook a finger gently beneath her chin.
“You’re not doing this alone anymore,” Walker says, “understand?”
The room goes still all around us. Outside of the sounds of Amber cooing at Pickles on the couch, everything ceases. Lia stares up at Knox with that innocent little stare of hers, and I look at Knox only to find him staring at them as well.
I feel my heartbeat in my throat. Lia’s scent blooms through the kitchen, filling the space with the wondrous scent of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven.
“I hear you,” she whispers.
“Good,” Walker says as he takes his finger from beneath her chin and boops her nose. “Now, let’s get you a glass of wine.”
“On it,” Knox says as he slips behind me.
I’m still shocked at the scene that just unfolded, though. She didn’t argue. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a joke, or even outright reject him. She… accepted his words.
As if they’re finally truth to her.
And for the first time since I smelled her in Dr. Quinn’s office almost three weeks ago, I finally allow myself to wonder if this could really happen.
Could the four of us actually build something real?
Something safe?
I look over and find my daughter no longer paying attention to Pickles. She’s watching the scene in the kitchen with wide, curious eyes, her hand aimlessly petting down the dog’s back. In a flash, a series of still-life images hit me.
Knox, curled up on the couch with Amber and Lia while they watch a movie. Walker, cooking dinner for all of us so that I can finish my grading. A house big enough for the four of us to live in. Amber, always having a chaperone on a field trip or for a future school dance.
I’ve only ever had that montage hit me one other time in my life.
How lucky am I to experience it twice.
I smile as I look back into the kitchen, surveying the scene unfolding. Knox hands Lia a glass of wine before his hand falls to the small of her back. He tosses me a wink as he leads Lia back to the couch where Amber and Pickles are, and Walker goes back to tending to his food.
I turn and watch the way Amber holds her hands out for Lia. The way Knox and Lia sink to the couch and curl around my daughter as if it’s second nature.
I imagine her growing up with three steady Alpha figures in her life.
I imagine her growing up with an Omega who bakes in the kitchen and laughs at my dumb jokes and guides her through things I can’t.
I imagine her living the rest of her life surrounded by a love I thought was lost when her mother died.
A slow smile spreads across my face and I grab the silverware to put the finishing touches on the kitchen table. Maybe I’m allowed to want this.
Even after what happened with Gloria, even after all the loss Amber and I have experienced, it’s okay for us to move on and claim another life for ourselves without disrespecting the memory of her mother and all she gave me.
“Dinner will be ready in ten,” Walker says.
And as I get the silverware set up, I send up a small prayer like I do every evening.
Thank you for sending them to me, Gloria. I love you.
Because here, at this moment, with them all filling my house, it’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s the only thing that feels right.
Gloria sent our pack to us.