Chapter 26
LOGAN
My packhouse isn’t clean enough.
“I haven’t vacuumed in two days,” I warn everyone, to which Fang mock gasps.
“Uh oh. I don’t know if we can stay here, then,” he says, grinning at Stella as she perches on her tower. She eyes him quizzically but then flops onto her back and shows off a magnificent belly.
“I forgot how nice this place is,” Maeve chirps. “Are your ceilings high enough?” she cranes her neck up. “Imagine how big of cat tree you could put here.”
“The acoustics are insane, too,” Fang adds.
They’ve been here before, but I would still like their approval—if this is the place we’re all going to live, I want it to be as appealing as possible.
I love Maeve. She’s my scent match, but Fang and Ivan are also my packmates and friends.
The new pack bed is installed, and it’s fitted with nesting blankets, throw blankets, and enough pillows for all of us.
I hope Maeve likes it.
It’s only been a day since Maeve left work, terrified of what happened to Alvin—but her scent is back to how it originally was, no longer that terrible, charred note in it.
I can still see the occasional tension flicker across her face, though.
I stay closer to her than usual, take her hand more freely than I used to—I want her to know that she’s not alone in whatever goes on in her head.
“Where’s Trooper?” she asks, placing her suitcase down and heading past the living room.
“If he’s not there, he’s usually—”
“Found him!”
Ivan, Fang and I follow her voice to the main bedroom, where the pack bed has been set up.
“Holy shit, Logan!” Fang exclaims. “How much did you drop on this thing?”
“Uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t remember.”
Ivan chuckles, while Maeve raises a disbelieving eyebrow at me.
Trooper is curled up into a comfortable shrimp shape at the foot of the bed, resting on a weighted lap blanket. He nuzzles into Maeve’s palm, pleased at the attention.
“I wanted to get the best bed possible,” I explain.
“If we’re going to live here—if we’re going to do this—I wanted all of us to be comfortable.
I don’t mind spending money on that. Even the cat trees are custom—there’s no reason for us to have a generic bed if Stella and Trooper can get the luxuries they deserve. ”
Fang nods. “I get it,” he says, then turns to Maeve. “So, what’s the plan, babe? We stay here a couple days, then go back at your place?”
Maeve looks thoughtful. “I think I want to take it day by day. Maybe we end up staying here longer. She glances at me, smiling. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” I say quickly. “This house is basically yours.”
Her eyes widen, and Ivan lets out a low whistle.
“I told you,” he tells her. “He’s down bad for you.”
“I’m right here,” I remind them, my cheeks burning.
Even with Ivan’s teasing, it doesn’t make it any less true.
My home is hers.
My life is hers.
I never thought I would have a scent match—it had been far too long, and I never imagined I could be part of a pack after all these years.
Yet the unimaginable has happened, and my soulmate is standing in front of me.
Who am I to not give her the world?
But Maeve’s brilliant smile as she turns to me is worth any embarrassment I might experience. She throws herself into my arms, hugging me tightly, and I lose myself in her scent.
Chamomile. Happiness.
“Stop teasing Logan,” she warns Ivan and Fang. “Or I’ll let him bite me first.”
The room freezes, and even she stiffens at what she allowed to slip out.
My mind goes fuzzy with her words.
I told myself it would be enough to be her scent match. I’m delighted to be in her life; she’s my friend, she finds me interesting. She lets me rant about my rock doves.
She’s fun—Maeve brings life and light wherever she goes, and I’m happy to just bask in it.
Being scent matched to her was more than enough.
Yet, when she talks about me biting her…
My inner Alpha growls, subtle and low, and I pray that no one heard it.
“Don’t threaten us with a good time,” Fang finally says, his voice thick. It breaks the tension in the air, and then, we’re back to unpacking.
But I keep sneaking a peek at that delightful mating gland that peeks out of her tank top.
The raised bump of skin is subtle, but now that she’s mentioned biting, I just can’t stop staring.
How would it feel, to bite her?
Would it hurt her at all? What if I’m too rough?
“Hey!” Maeve exclaims. She’s skimming through my bookshelf while I organize clothes in the dresser on the opposite wall of the bed. “You have the cat mystery books! Hold on. You have all of them?” she turns to me incredulously, delight all over her face. “Logan, there’s like twenty books here.”
“Oh. You and Ivan had mentioned you were reading it, and you made it sound interesting,” I say evenly. “I thought it would be nice to read something fictional, for once.”
Maeve opens and closes her mouth.
“Told you,” Ivan calls from the other room.
“Why do you have two copies of each one?” she asks.
“In case you wanted to read them, too. I mean, I didn’t want to assume. Or maybe the spine on one got cracked. Or something.”
Maeve stares and stares at me until tears fill her eyes.
Horrified, I rush to her side. “Maeve, what’s wrong?”
But she just cups my face in her hands, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses me softly. “You. Are. Adorable,” she breathes.
At the confusion on my face, she just laughs. “I would love for you to join our book club,” she says.
“I wasn’t trying to invade on your book club, I promise.”
I swear I wasn’t. I wanted topics to talk to Maeve and Ivan about, and if Maeve or Ivan ever lost their own copies, I was happy to share.
But Maeve still looks at me with those lovely eyes that I could swear see right through to my soul.
I love you, I scream in my head. I love you.
“You don’t have work today, right?” she asks softly.
I shake my head.
“I don’t either, but Ivan and Fang do. Are you okay with just me for company?” she asks, grinning.
Fang says something, but I’m too busy being mesmerized by the look in her eyes.
“It’s more than okay,” I say earnestly.
Finally, I’m about to have my Omega to myself.
“You make their food?” she asks in disbelief.
“It’s easy, once you have the right supplements to go along with the meat,” I shrug, motioning to my open fridge. “They also have freeze dried kibble.”
Maeve insisted on an in-depth house tour, and I’m happy to give it to her, answering any questions she has. Now, she’s poking around in my fridge, inquiring about numerous pre made cat food containers.
Having a conversation is never difficult with her. She’s happy to talk, and I’m happy to listen. Also, her questions always have a purpose. They’re never just to fill up space. I never have to worry that she’s bored, because we’re both genuinely interested in what we discuss.
She’s a dream. An amazing creature that life somehow placed right in front of me after forty years.
“Do you want me to make you something?” I ask. “I can actually cook human food, too, pretty well.”
“You don’t have to,” she says easily.
I chew my lip and close the refrigerator. “I…I don’t know how to explain this,” I say quickly, and she tilts her head curiously. “But…doing things for you? Providing for you, it…it makes me feel good.”
There has to be a better way to explain it, but I don’t know how.
Just taking care of her makes my body thrum and pleasure shoot up my spine.
She blinks, and then her lip quirks. “It makes you feel good?”
I nod, a flush creeping up my neck.
“How good?” There is pure delight on her face. Her chamomile scent swirls around me, sweet and delicious and everything I’ve ever wanted.
“Very good,” I breathe. My cock throbs in my pants, and I swallow nervously.
“So,” she purrs, “taking care of me makes you hard?”
My breath catches, and I nod. “It…it can.”
“Good,” she says, smiling. “Because when you take care of me, it makes me wet.”
I blink. “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.”
She makes it so I can’t breathe. Just being around her is so intense, that I’m not sure I was alive before I met her.
“Logan,” she says softly.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
Yes.
“I want to cook for you. And kiss you,” I admit breathily. “I want to touch you, and spread you out on the bed and make you come.”
At my admission, her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath. “I think I’m done with the house tour,” she says.
My cock is straining through my jeans. “Okay,” I say weakly.
“I want you to spread me out on the bed and make me come.”
“I can do that,” I huff.
“You said taking care of me makes you hard,” she whispers, crowding my space. Her chest brushes against mine, and I can sense her stiff nipples through her sheer tank top. “So, why don’t you make me come, and then you can cook me something to eat?”
I nod. “I would like that,” I breathe.
She stands on her tiptoes and sweetly nuzzles her nose against mine. “Please, Alpha,” she says. “Please make me come.”
While I may be shy, the Alpha in me isn’t.
I manhandle her, scooping her into my arms easily while she shrieks in delight. I let out a low growl, and her shriek turns into a moan.
“I love when you growl,” she says. “You rarely do it, but when you too, I immediately soak myself.”
I almost toss her on the couch and take her right there.
She always manages to leave my speechless, and right now is no exception.
Once we’re back in the main bedroom, I deposit her on the bed, and she eagerly spreads her legs.
I allow my inner Alpha to guide my movements, pushing my insecurities to the side and focusing on the fact that my Omega is requesting I make her come.
I position myself at the edge of the bed, and she lifts her hips while I slowly pull down her black sweatpants. Soon, the room fills with the sugary scent of her slick.
It’s almost as strong as it was when we were snowed in together, and it makes my cock throb.
“Any day now,” she teases, when I realize I’ve just been staring at her.
“It still doesn’t feel real,” I murmur. “That you’re mine.”