Chapter 39 Lo
Lo
Idon’t even know what to say.
Mostly because I can’t see a damn thing.
The blindfold is soft. Satin, maybe, but it makes the ride feel a hundred times longer. Every bump in the road sends my stomach flipping, and the low rumble of the truck’s engine thrums through me like a pulse I can’t escape.
“Seriously,” I mutter. “Am I being kidnapped right now? Because if that’s what’s happening, I have to tell you, I will not be a well-behaved kidnappee.”
Ford chuckles from the driver’s seat, and I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Pretty sure that’s the first time someone’s tried to sass their kidnappers.”
I tilt my head toward him, even though I can’t see a thing. “Then you admit it. You are kidnapping me.”
Hayes’s voice comes from the passenger side, low and lazy. He’s enjoying this way too much. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?” My heart is doing this weird tripping-over-itself thing. They’ve both been weirdly quiet since they picked me up. No clue where Beck is. Just the promise of a “surprise.” Which is usually code for either something great… or insane.
And considering these men, odds are it’s both.
Hayes leans back, his shoulder brushing mine. God, of course they put me in the middle. “You’re gonna like it, Lo.”
“That’s what all good kidnappers say.”
Ford laughs again, and then I hear the turn signal click. Gravel crunches under the tires as the truck slows, and the air shifts. Cooler, wilder somehow. The scent of pine sneaks in through the open vents, sharp and clean. We’re definitely out of town now.
“Guys… where are we?”
No one answers. Which is completely unfair. My heart’s trying to punch through my ribs, and they’re just sitting there like this isn’t the most intense suspense of my life.
The truck rolls to a stop. The engine cuts out. Doors open, slam. I sit there, blindfolded and motionless, until Ford says gently, “C’mon.”
Warm hands—Hayes’s, I think—close around mine, tugging me out of the truck. My boots hit solid ground, and the smell of earth and trees wraps around me. There’s a whisper of wind across my face, cool enough to make me shiver.
“Careful,” Ford murmurs at my back as his hands steady my hips.
We walk. The gravel underfoot gives way to smooth boards. A porch, maybe? My mind is a storm of questions, but then we stop, and silence stretches so long I can hear my own breathing.
And then… Beck. He’s the one who always calms me, always makes everything else fade to background noise.
“You ready, Lo?”
My throat is dry. “For what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just slides the blindfold off with slow, careful fingers.
The night bursts into view all at once. Moonlight, shadows, and right in front of me, a house. Not just a house. A home.
Big and beautiful, white siding glowing under the porch lights, windows warm with golden light spilling out. A wraparound porch that looks like it was built for long summer nights and quiet mornings. And all of it… for me?
My breath catches. “What… what is this?”
Beck steps into my line of sight, his eyes locked on mine like there’s no one else in the world.
“It’s ours,” he says simply. “Your home, Lo. Our home.”
Something inside me splinters. Breaks open in the best way. Because for so long, I’ve been drifting. Half-waiting for the other shoe to drop, half-believing I don’t get this. Safety. Belonging. Them.
“You…” I bite my lip, trying to keep it together. “You did this? For me?”
His jaw tightens, and his eyes shine dark and steady. “For you. For us. For the pack.”
Ford moves up beside me, his hand brushing mine, grounding me in that quiet, steady way of his. Hayes is on my other side, grinning from ear to ear.
I press my hands to my mouth because I swear, I’m going to cry, and Hayes leans down, murmuring at my ear, “Told you it wasn’t a kidnapping.”
I laugh, shaky and wet, and Beck takes my hand, guiding me up the steps.
“Come on,” he says, and there’s a fierce tenderness in his words that undoes me completely. “Let me show you your new home.”
I let him lead me, because there’s nothing else I can do but follow. My feet move, my heart pounds, and every part of me feels weightless and heavy all at once.
Because this is real. This is ours. And I’m not afraid of what comes next.
The door swings open, and the first thing I see is the living room. A cathedral of sunlight and soft leather, windows soaring up to the ceiling.
Hayes throws his arms out. “Welcome to Casa de Awesome. Population: us.”
Ford groans. “Ignore him.”
“Excuse me,” Hayes says, strutting ahead like he’s on a runway. “I worked very hard on this vibe.”
“What vibe is that?” I ask, eyebrows up.
“Luxury wilderness chic.” He flops onto the couch, big enough to land a small plane, and sprawls vastly. “Perfect for movie nights. And naps. And maybe a little—”
“Don’t.” Ford’s voice is pure warning.
Hayes grins. “…snuggling.”
I snort. “That’s… honestly worse than what I thought you were gonna say.”
Ford clears his throat and gestures toward the kitchen. “Come on. Before he starts naming the couch.”
The kitchen is made of dreams. White cabinets, black countertops, a giant farmhouse sink, and an island that could host a cooking competition.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
Ford ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured you’d want space. For… baking with me. And stuff.”
My heart squeezes so hard I swear it’s bruised. “I love it.”
Beck slips an arm around my waist and murmurs, “Want to see the rest?”
Next stop: the library.
“Holy…” I gasp as we step into a room lined with dark wood shelves from floor to ceiling. There’s a ladder. An actual ladder on wheels, like in Beauty and the Beast.
Hayes grins. “Your castle, milady.”
“This is mine?”
Beck squeezes my hip. “For you.”
Ford gestures toward a cozy nook with pillows. “And for nights you want to read without us bothering you.”
Hayes leans in, smirking. “Or nights you want us to bother you while you’re reading.”
“Hayes,” Beck warns, his tone all Alpha steel, and wow, that does things to me.
We breeze through a sunroom that Hayes declares as “Perfect for plotting world domination or drinking wine at noon,” a gym (which Ford apparently demanded), and a den Hayes insists is the “man cave,” complete with a dartboard and a giant pool table.
And then Beck stops in front of a door at the end of the hall.
“This one’s yours,” he says quietly.
He opens it, and I swear the air goes out of my lungs.
It’s soft and warm and everything I didn’t know I wanted. A massive bed piled high with blankets and pillows, the light low and golden. The walls are painted in calm, earthy tones. It feels… safe. Nesting safe.
My knees wobble.
“You… you made me a nest room?”
Beck’s jaw tightens, bracing for me to hate it, but his eyes burn steady. “You deserve a place to feel comfortable. To feel… yours.”
Hayes grins. “Translation: we’re never getting you out of here.”
“Is it okay?” Ford asks.
I can’t answer. Not right away. Because my throat is tight, and my vision’s blurry, and my whole chest might explode.
Finally, I whisper, “It’s perfect.”
Beck steps close, his hand finding mine. Hayes leans against the doorframe, hiding something tender behind all that bravado. Ford just beams.
And then Hayes, of course, ruins the moment: “So… how many pillows before it becomes a fire hazard?”
I laugh through my tears, and Beck groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Why do we even let you talk?”
Eventually, they lead me into the last room, the main bedroom, and if the bed in the nest room was big, this one could host a summit. Hayes immediately sprawls across it like a cat in a sunbeam.
“This,” he declares, “is where the magic happens.”
“Hayes!” Ford barks, horrified.
“What?” Hayes spreads his arms wide, grinning. “I meant Netflix magic. You people have dirty minds.”
And I laugh so hard I nearly fall onto the bed, too.
Beck doesn’t say a word. He’s just watching me. And the way his pupils are blown wide and his jaw is tight? Yeah, I’m suddenly very aware that it’s not just the house humming with energy.
It’s them.
It’s the way Hayes’s laughter slides into something lower, darker, as his eyes rake down my body.
The way Ford steps closer, big and steady, and I can feel the heat coming off him.
The way Beck’s scent, rich and warm and so Alpha it makes my knees go weak, thickens in the air until breathing feels optional.
“Lo,” Beck says. “Come here.”
Every nerve in my body lights up like a power grid. I move without thinking, crossing the room until I’m standing right in front of him, so close I can feel the whisper of his breath against my forehead.
“You like it?” he asks, and there’s something dangerous curling under the question.
I nod, because words are… hard.
His hand slides to my jaw, tilting my face up. “Good. Because it’s yours. We’re yours.”
My heart is a riot in my chest. “Beck… ”
But then Ford’s behind me, his heat at my back, his breath skating down the side of my neck.
“You smell happy,” he murmurs, and God, the way his voice drops, low and husky, like he’s already half insane, makes my stomach swoop.
Hayes chuckles from the bed, but it’s softer now, darker. “She smells like home.”
My pulse stutters. Something deep inside me purrs at that. Because they’re right. This is home. They’re home.
Beck leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “You want us to show you another little surprise?”
Everything in me clenches, heat pooling low, slick already starting to hum at the edges. I can’t stop the sound that slips out. A shaky, desperate little “yes.”
And that’s it. That’s the match to the fuse.
As I stagger back toward the bed, I notice something I didn’t see before. A trunk in the corner of the room.
“What’s in there?” I ask.
Hayes smirks slowly as he edges towards it. “You really want to know?”
He pops the trunk with a slick click. The sound is soft, but it ripples through me. My breath catches when I see what’s inside.