Chapter 2
JETT
Something's wrong. Sharon didn't show.
I waited at the venue for half an hour. Grabbed a coffee.
A couple of donuts. Had a fucking pie because apparently stress eating is my coping mechanism.
And now I'm heading to Savannah's house because the wedding planner never turned up.
Work is drying up anyway. Actors wanting to do their own stunts, thanks to Tom Wild.
He got the actors thinking they can get more money by doing it themselves, which they do, and my job, which was in demand, is drying up like the Sahara Desert.
This isn't like her. I remember when she was dating Ben—she was always put together, always trying so hard to be perfect for him.
The kind of woman who showed up early and double-checked everything.
So where is she? The strange part is that no one turned up.
Just me and the venue owner. No bride. No groom.
No one. After thirty minutes, the owner said she had other appointments and locked up.
I headed to Savannah's to figure out what the hell was going on.
I'm sitting in Savannah's living room after explaining what happened at the venue, clearly Savannah has her hands full.
Damn, I've never seen a pregnant lady carrying triplets, but by the stress lines on Savannah's face, her pregnancy isn't the one stressing her out.
Her alphas are Xavier took her temperature and blood pressure like three times while I was venting, telling me that if it reached 180, I would have to leave.
No idea what that means, but the dude is uptight.
Met him twice, and that was enough for me to know we could never be friends.
I stand up and walk to the window, watching the snow fall outside. My jaw clenches thinking about Sharon sitting alone at that venue, probably freaking out. That's not like her to just no-show something. Sharon cares. She actually gives a shit about things.
"Great, she's calling me back," Savannah says, picking up her ringing phone.
By she, she must mean Sharon.
She puts her on loudspeaker.
"No one is here, Savannah," Sharon says through the phone speaker. Her voice is small. Panicked. "Are you sure you got the time right?"
I'm sprawled back in the armchair across from the couch where Savannah's sitting.
I'm in a black band t-shirt that's seen better days, scrolling through my phone, pretending I'm not fully invested in this disaster.
But I am. The moment I hear her voice, my attention snaps completely to that speaker.
"Sharon, did you get there late?" Savannah says.
"Define late," Sharon says defensively. "I was only… okay, fine, I was late. He's my ex. I kept thinking, I can do this, then I was like, I can't do this. Then I don't know, Savannah. Sorry I let you down."
I sit up straighter. There's something in her voice as if she’s scared. She was supposed to be there at nine, and it's nearly nine-thirty now. But this doesn't sound like someone who overslept. This sounds like someone who couldn't make herself walk out the door.
"Sharon," Savannah says, and I can hear the patient exhaustion in her voice. "That is absolutely not on time."
I can practically see her throwing her hands up. "In the grand scheme of the universe—"
"Where is the bride?" Savannah interrupts, cutting through Sharon's bullshit.
There's a pause.
"That's the weird part," Sharon says, and I can hear the panic creeping into her voice. "There's nobody here. No bride. No staff. No one. I couldn't even get through the door. Did you confirm the meeting?"
Savannah pulls out her planner from somewhere in the sea of baby blankets and scrolls through the details. I watch her do it. She's got that look on her face. The one that means she knows something's about to get complicated.
"The meeting is confirmed," Savannah says slowly. "Nine a.m. today. Penelope Carter and Ben Burnside. Wedding planning consultation."
"Well, they're not here," Sharon says flatly. "I've checked the grounds. I've walked through every room. Nothing. It's like they decided to skip the whole planning a wedding part and just not show up."
I sit up. My attention sharpens. But now I'm actually thinking about this instead of just half-listening. My mind's working through scenarios. Ben ghosting on his own wedding planning? That's very Ben.
"This wedding is a disaster," Sharon continues, and I can hear her breathing get heavier.
"All of Penelope's RSVPs have refused. I got the final count this morning, and I thought there was a mistake. But no. She only invited forty people, which is weird considering she’s an influencer.
Anyway, thirty-eight of them said when I went through them all yesterday. "
"That's worrying," Savannah says.
"It's a catastrophe," Sharon says. "Who hates someone enough to refuse their wedding invitation? I mean, I hate my ex, and I still don't understand how he managed to get an omega to marry him in the first place. And as for his brothers, maybe they're the reason no one is turning up."
My spine goes straight.
"Jett thinks that he's God cause he's a stunt man and walks around showing everyone all his scars. Another obnoxious one. And don't get me started on Pine. And as for Cassian, the man would flirt with the damn table if he could."
The words hit different than I expected.
I stand up from the armchair, restless energy moving through me. My scent shifts. Cedar getting sharper. It irritates me that she said that. It irritates me more that it bothers me.
"No, Sharon. Keep talking about Pine," I interject, moving closer to the phone. My voice comes out gruffer than I intended.
"Savannah?"
"No, it's Jett, the one who can't stop showing off how he's God," I say, and there's an edge to my voice. I run my hand through my hair, frustrated. "Sharon, what happened? You're over thirty minutes late."
Silence on the other end of the line.
"I... we..." Sharon starts, flustering.
"Look Sharon, it's fine," Savannah says diplomatically, but her eyes are on me, watching my reaction. "But talk to me. What's going on? Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea."
I stop pacing. It clicks. Sharon was nervous about this job. About seeing Ben again. About facing all of this. She didn't oversleep or lose track of time—she froze. The thought of seeing my brother again after what he did to her made her unable to walk out the door.
Savannah abruptly cuts Sharon off, “I didn't know that Ben was your ex. I shouldn't have done this to you. I wouldn't want to arrange my ex's wedding if he was the last man on Earth."
Then she hangs up. I don’t know what Sharon said on the other line, she probably apologized again. That would be Sharon always thinking of others and not herself.
I tilt my head to the side, frustration and something else churning in my chest. Something that feels like guilt. Maybe I've been too hard on her. She was trying to work up the guts to see Ben again. He hurt her pretty badly, and that's my jackass brother for you.
"Your brother must have done a number on Sharon," she says as I move back to the window. I stare out at the snow falling.
I nod in agreement. My scent settles back to normal. Cedar, sweat, gunpowder. But there's something underneath it now. Something that wasn't there before.
"Ben isn't great at relationships. Then again, none of us are, but we're not as low as Ben." I pause. "Maybe I'm being too hard on Sharon."
Savannah nods. "Yeah, I shouldn't have given her this job. Not without explaining about Ben first."
Her phone chimes, and she reads the message out loud.
"I'm sorry I've let you down. I won't do it again."
That's Sharon. Even after everything, the panic, the judgment, the weight of this whole situation, she's apologizing. She's still fighting. She wants to do this job, even if Ben won't appreciate it. Even if she's terrified.
She's a fighter.
"Don't worry," I say, my voice quieter than before. Something in my chest feels like determination. "I'll support Sharon as best I can. Where's she staying?"
"Pine Inn."
I jump up with a spring in my step. I haven't seen her for five years, but I remember her. Hell, I never stopped remembering her.
Ben's girlfriend with the curves that made my hands itch every time she walked into a room.
Hips that swayed when she moved. Thighs that filled out her jeans in ways that pissed me off because she wasn't mine to look at.
She was always so put together back then.
Prim and proper. Buttoned up. Trying to be the perfect omega Ben wanted her to be.
But her hair never got the memo. Those wild curls had a life of their own, always escaping whatever style she'd wrestled them into, falling into her face, making her look just a little undone.
Drove me crazy. Made me want to mess her up completely. Made me want to watch that careful composure crack while those curls tangled around my fingers.
She deserved better than my brother's cold indifference. She deserved someone who actually saw her instead of trying to make her smaller.
My scent spikes again. Cedar and something protective underneath.
"Give her some slack," Savannah says with a knowing smile. Like she knows exactly what I'm about to do.
"I intend to."
I stand up, already reaching for my jacket, but Cassian's voice stops me.
Cassian walks in from the hallway, probably finished helping with whatever baby-proofing project had him occupied.
“Hold on."
He's looking at me with that expression that means he knows something I don't.
"You sure you know what you're doing?"
"I'm going to apologize to Sharon," I say. "What's complicated about that?"
"You sure it's just an apology?" Cassian leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "Because the way your scent spiked when Savannah mentioned her name suggests this might be more than professional concern."
I want to deny it. I should deny it. But Cassian's right, he usually is, and lying to my brother feels pointless when he can literally smell the truth on me.
"She was Ben's girlfriend," I say carefully.
"I remember her. A people pleaser who kept apologizing for taking up space, like she had to justify existing around my brother.
Ben was a little shit back then. Still is.
Sharon never deserved that, and she doesn't deserve me being hard on her now. That's why I'm apologizing."
"And you think you can give her better?" Cassian's tone isn't judgmental. Just curious.
"I think she deserves someone who sees her," I say. "Really sees her. Not just as an omega to be tolerated until something better comes along."
Savannah is watching me with a small smile, like she's seeing something play out that she expected all along.
"Then go," she says softly. "Sharon could use someone in her corner right now."
I don't need to be told twice. I grab my jacket and head for the door, my mind already working through what I'm going to say when I find her.
My cedar scent rising around me, like it is lifting me up and out the door to go apologize the sexy, albeit anxious, omega.
Do you think she would taste like chocolate covered strawberries if I drizzled chocolate on those fantastic tits?